#how to get on megas taglists
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megamindsecretlair ¡ 9 months ago
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how do i get added to your tag list?
Ahh, thank you so much for being interested!
To be added to any of my taglists, make sure you confirm that youre 18+ by telling me or its in your bio. You can DM me, send me an ask, or comment/reblog on the fandoms you want to be included in.
I *usually* automatically tag ppl who comment or reblog with comments or tags because likes dont let me know if you want more or wanna be tagged in it. Reblogging it without comments lets me know you're supportive but not if its okay to tag you for more.
I got anxiety okay 😭 if yall only knew how much strength it takes to tag ppl out the blue 😭🤣🤣🤣
You can also use this post to tell me which fandoms you want me to tag you in. 🖤🖤
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jji-lee ¡ 2 months ago
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⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> hyuck's group
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pussy feens (virgins) !
lee donghyuck is obsessed with anything camera related, no wonder he's a photography major. unfortunately for him it's an expensive hobby for a broke student like himself. he just lost his job at the convenience store cause he was too scared to help a hot girl find flamin' hot cheetos... he's a 24 year old virgin can you really blame him?
women gender studies major mark lee has to be the face of feminism. this may just be a ploy to try and get laid though, not like it's working anyways, the girls think he's gay. he's the dad of the group always making sure his boys are in check, and respecting women like they should. they'd have to actually get near a woman to respect her though...
zhong chenle's head is probably so huge because of how big his brain is, i mean who else is successfully completing an aerospace engineer major? not only is he a super mega nerd but he has an unhealthy obsession with stephen curry... what girl would wanna sleep with that? but who needs girls when you have your best guy friends who also get zero female interactions?
finance bro jung sungchan should have an easy time getting a girl.. right? wrong. he has no rizz whatsoever. but he's pretty popular amongst other men so he gets the guys access to all the biggest parties. parties which they spend all night stuck to one another... maybe they should try splitting up next time...
park jisung is the embodiment of shyness. no one knows how he's the only one in the friend group to have lost his virginity. he's cute and soft spoken... the the public. but when he's with his friend group no one can make him stop talking, certified yapper. and what's worse is that his rants usually consist of stars and planets, blame it on his astronomy major... or was it astrology?
these virgins met on a porn discord chat. they realized that they had the same taste in twitter porn and eventually made their own group chat to share videos. with some time there were less porn links and more personal talk. how sweet a bond forged by naked women and tragic backstories. but don't underestimate them, they'd ride and die for each other.
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yn's group -> masterlist -> intro
notes : literally all nerds cause they have nothing else to worry about but keeping their grades up tbh. didn't realize how smutty this smau is gonna be so pls prepare urselves for dirty bad words and descriptions im sorry 😞
taglist : @kimsaerom , @n0hyuck , @nanaxwi , @neverbeurs , @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyuckiebb-blog , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @yesohhsehun , @prettybluei , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @the-swageyama-tobiyolo , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @injunnie-lemon , @jeonghansshitester , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @livingdoll-hara , @minkyuncutie , @luvsooby
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rapunzelbro ¡ 10 months ago
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Imagine Vox getting flustered by their S/O
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I wrote this but it formatted wrong so I made an individual one. MEGA MEGA thank you to @silverhetdanes for helping me with ideas. She’s my cowriter on some stuff when I run out of ideas pls give them a follow. This was a request!!
Masterlist Taglist form
Vox is never one to get flustered easily
Being dramatic as hell? Yes without a doubt. But flustered no
You and him met on your own terms with no contract even involved.
Dude just loved your presence and you worked with him with no sort of deal holding you hostage
Eventually hitting it off and you start dating
This means a lot more one of one time and meeting his other friends or associates whatever he refers to them as
Valentino lowkey tries to get you to make a deal with him to be one of his dancers but Vox gets soooo pissed you'll never forget the look at his face, well screen.
But how did he get flustered you may ask?
You were getting ready for your show and doing your makeup in your dressing room and Vox came in unexpectedly
You didn't have a shirt on or a bra
Bro gets so flustered because he has never seen you like this before??
He wanted to wait until you were comfortable before you two got there but holy shit
You look at him and think nothing of it
Vox.exe has stopped working
Dudes screen went full blown glitch mode?
Like you know the screen with the box that moves around trying to hit the corner?
That shows up followed by the 'screen of death' and bro starts overheating?? Hands sparking??
You quickly cover yourself and shut the door behind him trying to figure out how to help this flustered robot.
You trying to take his hands to calm him down like you usually do and getting burned not realizing how hot he was truly getting
“Shit!"
Hearing you say that pretty much shifts his focus on you helping him cool down
“s͛⦚h͛⦚i͛⦚t͛⦚ s͛⦚h͛⦚i͛⦚t͛⦚ a͛⦚r͛⦚e͛⦚ y͛⦚o͛⦚u͛⦚ o͛⦚k͛⦚a͛⦚y͛⦚”
Dudes voice glitching like hell but him focusing on you rather than what he saw helped him a ton
You calming him down saying how you weren't upset he saw you like that
“I just wanted to wait until you were ready"
"I've been ready just waiting for you V."
Dude honestly loves you so much and doesn't want to ruin the one good thing he has going for him
After your show he definitely takes you out somewhere nice to apologize
You two definitely make out and this time he doesn't over heat when he sees you undressed
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nerdallwritey ¡ 6 days ago
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About to Strike (Part 1)
***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: ONCE AGAIN I've yapped too much and this chapter became longer than tumblr likes, so I've split it into two posts. It's the same drill as Cheeks All Flushed: The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!
Summary: Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink.  He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well.  “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms.  OR The gang finally makes their way into the Shadow Cursed Lands.
Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 21.3k (This particular part is 10.7k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, oral (male receiving), hand job, vaginal fingering, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, protective Astarion, soft Astarion, whimpering Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), lots of party banter, AND JAHEIRA!! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 and 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 6 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.
a/n: SURPRISE! Part 6 is COMPLETE and she's A LOT. The back half is mainly smut and feelings and Astarion processing emotions a little which we LOVE to see. I hope to the gods that you guys find this to be a good followup to Worth the Peril, but I'm excited to FINALLY be in Act 2 and get into the big romantic scenes that happen there. Thank you all so much for sticking around and loving this goofy version of Astarion and his favorite bard :) You guys are the best and I adore and appreciate every single one of you! Please enjoy these silly little vignettes from the end of Act 1 and the start of Act 2! (Thank you as always to my beta @kermitwazowski for reading!) As a reminder, last time you got Mega Hurt in a fight and Astarion kind of took that personally.
Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!
“Would you relax?” you whispered sharply to the vampire currently brooding to your right.
“How can I be when this… ancient woman just tried to murder you?” Astarion threw a dramatic hand forward, gesturing to Jaheira, who was walking in front of you towards the Last Light Inn. You all had just arrived at the well lit sanctuary in the Shadow Cursed Lands, only to be interrogated by the High Harper, and vouched for by Mol, who’d managed to find her way here as well.
“I handled it,” you hissed. “It’s going to be okay.”
“While I admire your optimism, darling, I still don’t trust her.”
Karlach buzzed behind you, clearly in disbelief. “Mate, you must be joking. That’s the Jaheira!”
Astarion slowed his pace a bit to meet Karlach’s eye. “And, I take it, you know the old crone?”
“Astarion!” Wyll sounded surprised. “You’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate longer than I have! And you don’t know the tales they tell of Jaheira and her party of adventurers?”
Your crew of seven came to a halt in front of a moss covered fountain to gawk at the elf.
He clicked his tongue. “Mmm… that’d be a no.”
“He’s lying,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.
“I am not!”
Gale lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Come now, Astarion, surely you’ve heard passing tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate? Or perhaps read a book of their exploits?”
Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. “I do not know of this ‘Jah-hee-rah’ person. Her heroics must not be that impressive if I have never heard of her.”
“Nor I,” Halsin cut in.
“Yes, well, being freakish outsiders from the Astral Plane and the middle of the forest will deprive you of basic history lessons.” Astarion crossed his arms.
You snorted. “So what’s your excuse?” The others snickered. 
Astarion placed an annoyed hand on his hip. “Did you all forget that I was kept as a slave for two hundred years of pure misery and torture?”
The group remained silent for a moment before you stepped forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re still not over that?” 
He smirked. “Would you believe it’s taking me a little longer than one might expect?”
“Shame,” you pouted. Then you looked at Karlach who was angling her head around the fountain to track where Jaheira had gone. “You want to enlighten these three, Karlach?”
Karlach looked back at you all and her eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, yes please!” She rolled her shoulders and bounced on her feet as if she were preparing for battle, rather than recounting basic Baldur’s Gate history. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Years ago - over a century-”
You turned to Astarion and caught his eye. A century! your expression seemed to say.
Astarion shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and unwrapped one of his crossed arms to hold dramatically in front of himself. So what?
You rolled your eyes. So you should have been there!
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. I don’t know what to tell you.
You huffed some hair out of your eyes and tuned back in to what Karlach was saying.
“-Jaheira was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Seravok - a Bhaalspawn trying to plunge the city into war.”
Once again, you caught Astarion’s eye. “And you don’t recall any of this?”
He pursed his lips as the others turned to look at him. “Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall tensions being rather high around the city all those years ago.”
“Liar,” Shadowheart accused again. “It had to be more apparent than that. Why don’t you just admit you know who Jaheira is?”
Astarion’s response was venomous: “I was kept on a very tight leash, thank you, so apologies for not getting the names of the heroes who ‘saved’ the city that kept me enslaved for another hundred years.” 
You approached him quietly and took his hand. He scowled at Shadowheart but wrenched his gaze away to look at you. His expression softened mildly.
“It’s okay,” you said gently. “I’m sure she would have come for you and your siblings had she known.”
“Yes, probably come to kill us for being abominations,” he muttered, but squeezed your hand anyway.
“Ah, don’t be like that, Astarion,” Wyll said cheerfully. “I’m sure she would have helped you! You’re quite fun once you get past all the prickly bits.”
“Gee, thanks,” Astarion said flatly. 
Karlach took the awkward silence that followed as an opportunity to keep fangirling. “My mum used to tell us stories all about them - the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Adamant. Tough.”
“Probably a good ally to have on our side,” you said. Your companions nodded in agreement.
“I’ve told myself those stories thousands of times since,” Karlach continued. “I never thought I’d meet Jaheira. She’s a hero, and I was always… some Outer City kid.”
“Well, excellent news, Karlach,” Gale said. “Given our circumstances and the path we currently find ourselves on, it’s quite possible that we might be considered heroes one day.”
“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “We don’t even know what we’re up against yet. It is likely some of you will perish before we are able to slay this unknown enemy.”
Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “Charming as always, Lae’zel.”
“I am not charming. I am merely stating fact.”
Halsin cleared his throat. “Another druid you say, Karlach?”
Karlach grinned and nodded. “She’s the best! Can’t believe she wants to talk to us about working together. What a day!”
And what a day it had been. 
Or, tenday, more like.
~~~~~
The day after you’d told Astarion’s sleeping form that you loved him, he’d been nothing but clingy. 
You awoke to find him still curled tightly into your side, but now he was fully awake, his eyes wide and unblinking. It was unnerving.
“Can I help you?” you asked.
He blinked rapidly before an easy grin rested on his lips. “Just making sure you still have a pulse, darling.”
You snorted. “Checking on your food supply, I see.”
Astarion angled his head to nuzzle his nose along your throat before kissing your pulse point. “What can I say,” he murmured against your skin, “we vampires have two instincts, as we learned from that book yesterday: ‘feed and make little vampires.’” He scrunched his face into a silent roar, baring his fangs and forming one of his hands into a claw. He slashed it through the air playfully.
“Yes well, the latter probably won’t be happening for a little while,” you said, shifting to sit up, but wincing in pain over the wound in your torso. 
Astarion was rolling off the pillows within seconds and coming around to help you sit up. His eyes were concerned, but he pouted and his voice was teasingly whiny when he said, “Pity.” He rested his forehead against your temple. “I do so miss being inside of you.”
You nearly choked on your own spit, which had him pulling away from you and laughing. 
“Whatever,” you muttered, watching as Astarion pulled his shirt over his head. 
“Hungry, my sweet?” he asked, still smiling.
“You’re really freaking me out,” you said, giving him a sideways look, “with how nice you’re being.”
Astarion rolled his eyes. “Fine. Starve.” With that, he exited your tent with a theatrical swoosh of the flaps that acted as a door.
You exhaled a disbelieving laugh, watching as the flaps swished back and forth before settling back into their closed position.
“SHE’S WHAT?!” you heard Karlach shriek, followed by loud, bounding footsteps approaching your tent. 
Astarion called after her in annoyance, “Don’t bother her!”
“Soldier!” Karlach’s head and shoulders popped their way into your tent. “So happy you’re awake!”
“Hi Karlach,” you laughed. “I’d get up but-”
Karlach shook her head. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m sure Shadowheart and Halsin will want to change your bandages and pump you full of potions but… I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” you said. “Thank you for helping while I was unconscious.”
“You’d do the same for any of us,” she said earnestly, still on her hands and knees in the entrance of your tent. 
You heard a dull thump outside that had Karlach yelping in surprise. 
“Out,” came Astarion’s sour tone, his tongue putting extra emphasis on the “t.”
Karlach looked back over her shoulder and then over to you. “He kicked my boot, the bastard! Proper hard, too!”
“I’d do a lot worse if you weren’t a walking furnace.” Another thump informed you that he kicked Karlach’s boot again.
Rather than retreat, however, Karlach settled her elbows into the dirt and rested her head in her hands. “Ask nicely.” She met your eye with a mischievous grin. 
You heard Astarion squawk incredulously. “Darling, tell her to move!”
Clearing your throat to keep from laughing, you said firmly, “Astarion. Be nice. That’s my dear friend, Karlach, you’re kicking.”
He muttered something you couldn’t make out, followed by a loud groan. 
Through gritted teeth, he said, “Dear, sweet, Karlach-” 
“Liking the sound of this,” Karlach nodded.
“-would you be so kind as to remove your humongous form from the entrance of my lovely bard’s tent?” It sounded as if the words were causing him physical pain.
Karlach looked back at you. “What do you think, Soldier?”
“He could probably do better,” you said with a smirk. But it was then that your stomach decided to growl loudly. 
“Woof,” Karlach said.
You could practically hear Astarion’s eye roll. “You know, if you let me in, I could remedy that little problem you’re experiencing.”
Karlach slanted her mouth to the side. “He’s probably right, Gale left behind a bunch of-” she waggled her fingers, “-magic-y warm food for you before he, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Wyll headed out this morning.”
You cocked your head to the side. “And you didn’t go with them?”
“Are you kidding?” she asked. “And miss you possibly waking up?”
You smiled at her fondly. “That’s very sweet of you.”
“Besides, I don’t trust myself around all the explodey mushrooms down here.”
Astarion cleared his throat loudly.
“Alright, Fangs, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Karlach looked over her shoulder at him before looking back at you once more. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where to find me.” She pointed to her temple, referring to the tadpole connection, and winked. She crawled backwards on her hands and knees, purposely taking her time, before she fully exited the tent. 
Astarion took her place instantly, crawling into the space with a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, bread, and a pair of healing potions. He placed the entire thing on your lap, along with a fork, before settling onto the ground next to you. 
You blinked at him. “Breakfast in bed?” 
He scoffed. “It isn’t as if you can join us at the breakfast table.”
Smiling softly, you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you, my love. This is very kind of you.”
He still scowled, but his face softened when he took your hand from his cheek and kissed your palm. “I expect the same kind of pampering in return if I’m ever to practically die as foolishly as you.”
You laughed before picking up the fork and stabbing some egg. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
~~~~~
And for the first few days, it did feel like pampering: Astarion staying by your side at all times - reading to you, laying with you, changing your bandages… He only ever left to feed himself. He refused your blood, citing that you needed it more than him, even though your bleeding had slowed to a halt by the third day. 
It all felt very nice.
Until you felt well enough to get back on your feet.
The others had dutifully been wrapping things up in the Underdark; defeating monsters, freeing deep gnomes from their drow and duergar slavers, rescuing the halfling woman’s husband, and exploring an abandoned wizard’s tower and the temple to Shar, to name a few. Lae’zel had even gifted you a new longsword she’d found, Phalar Aluve - a sword with the ability to sing or shriek - claiming that this weapon would not have allowed you to be wounded as fatally, had you had it during the duergar battle in the decrepit village.
On the day they raided the Zhentarim cache Astarion had mentioned all those days ago, he’d remained dutifully by your side, much to your dismay and protests that you’d be fine without him for a few hours.
“Absolutely not,” he’d said, looking down his nose at you. “As if Halsin or Shadowheart could care for you as properly as I have.”
“You forget,” you’d responded, mildly annoyed, “that they’re the ones who taught you how to care for me.”
“And I’m the one who shall continue to care for you,” he huffed, finishing changing your bandages once again. By this time, you could sit up on your own with mild to no pain at all. You were perfectly capable of changing your own bandages, but Astarion had insisted on continuing to help you. 
You supposed it was nice that he wanted to take care of you, given how much he usually hated being responsible for anything, but he was taking the job a bit too seriously.
Luckily, Karlach and Lae’zel had lugged some chests they’d been unable to open at the Zhentarim storeroom back to camp, allowing your beloved rogue to take part in the raid, despite not attending himself, and thus allowing you a moment of peace to roll off your pillows and put on fresh clothes without his help.
You emerged from your tent to look at the spoils from the storeroom, standing up straight and walking on your own. Astarion hadn’t noticed at first, too busy fiddling with the lock of a particularly large chest, but the commotion created by your companions forced him to look in your direction. 
“You’re up!” Wyll exclaimed.
“Do you need any help?” Gale snapped the book he was reading closed.
“Give her some space,” Shadowheart said, assessing you with her eyes from a few feet away.
Astarion got up and hurried over to you. “What do you think you’re doing?”
You smiled at him reassuringly. “I promise I feel well enough to be out here. I just wanted some fresh, Underdark air.” You looked over his shoulder at one of the open chests. “Find anything good?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Nothing worth you getting out of bed for.” He looked you up and down and noticed your change of clothes. He sighed. “I could have helped-”
“I’m fine,” you maintained, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes.
Halsin approached the two of you and nodded approvingly. “It is good for her to be up and moving around. It’ll stretch the healing muscles and allow her to join the fray again much more quickly than if she stays in bed all day.” 
Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh, what do you know?”
“Astarion,” Shadowheart said in warning. “If she says she’s okay, let’s believe her. I’m sure she’ll tell you if something’s wrong this time around, right?” She made pointed eye contact with you. 
You held up your hand as if swearing an oath. “I promise.”
He watched you closely, narrowing his eyes and sniffing pompously. “Fine.” 
He made no move to leave your side.
You rolled your eyes and walked over to the chest he’d been working on, the thieves’ tools still stuck inside the lock. You patted the top of the chest and said, “Don’t let me interrupt you.”
Astarion watched you carefully before he made his way back to the chest and sunk to his knees. 
Not far off, Lae’zel was polishing her greatsword. “Does this mean you are well enough to accompany us to the crèche?”
“Well, I-”
“No,” said every other person at camp at once.
“Chk,” Lae’zel thrust her greatsword into the dirt in front of her. “Heal faster.”
“Trying my best,” you said with a shrug. 
Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to assessing her greatsword.
“If you’re going to be up and about,” Shadowheart said, “you should probably start packing up your belongings for when we need to enter the Mountain Pass.”
“Augh!” you exclaimed loudly, clutching your side. Astarion was up immediately and you leaned your weight on him, throwing your arms around his neck for support. “So sorry, Shadowheart,” you said in a fake strained tone, “my wound… it prevents me… from hard labor…” You flopped fully into Astarion’s side, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue as if you’d just perished on the spot.
“Oh good,” Astarion said blandly, “she’s finally dead and I can get on with my life.”
You kicked him.
“Uh huh,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. “Such a shame she’ll never be able to annoy us again.”
“I’ll haunt you forever…” you murmured, wobbling your voice like a ghost.
 Shadowheart stepped forward and patted your arm. “I’ll ask for blessings from Lady Shar on behalf of your passing.”
“Thank you…” you murmured again.
Astarion bumped his hip into yours forcefully. “Would you get off of me?”
You pulled back and smiled at him. “See? I’m fine.”
He humphed and returned to unlocking the big chest, only to find it full of more thieves' tools. He sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the edge of the chest. You peered inside and laughed.
“Aw,” you said sympathetically and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to get some food.”
“Let me-” 
“No,” you said firmly. “Keep going through your useless chests, my love. I’ll be right over here.” You walked over to the makeshift kitchen area Gale had set up. 
Astarion watched you go, and you felt his protective eyes remain on you for the remainder of the night. 
~~~~~
It was like that now: Astarion trying to do things for you while you insisted you could do them on your own. 
It had bewildered you when he actually helped you pack for your trip back to the surface. He had little to pack of his own, given that he’d more or less lived in your tent throughout your stay in the Underdark. He was relentlessly cautious with you, insisting that Gale cast Fly on you so that you didn’t have to ascend the impossibly long ladder back up into the Goblin camp. And he rarely let you out of his sight, even when safely surrounded by your other companions. 
The Mountain Pass was beautiful: bathed in what seemed like permanently golden light that had Astarion blooming in the sun’s glow once again. When your group accidentally stumbled into a hostile party of undead while looking for a place to camp, Astarion had taken your hand and pulled you behind him to shield you with his body. 
“I can help!” you’d pleaded, watching your friends sling spells and swords at the skeletons.
“Let us handle this,” Astarion had growled, slashing his daggers through a ghoul that came a little too close to you for comfort. He kept you both to the outskirts of the fight.
Try as you might to help, Astarion held you back, glaring at you for drawing the attention of a ghast when you cast Thunder Wave in its direction. You gave him an apologetic smile before he fatally stabbed the ghast in the chest. 
Bloodied and burnt out, you and your companions finally found a decent place to camp, close to the monastery that Lae’zel was sure housed the crèche. She took the lead on making a plan to enter the building and find the cure that had been promised to her all her life. You sat by the fire, listening idly to her plans, knowing full well that no one - except maybe Lae’zel herself - wanted you fighting so soon after your injury. You also knew that, should the cure be legitimate, your friends would happily accompany you back into the crèche where you could have the tadpole removed. You chose not to linger on the thought of your adventure possibly coming to an end so soon.
Unsurprisingly, Astarion sat by your side, mending a pair of pants. His knee was pressed lightly into your upper thigh as he hunched over the fabric to see his thread better. 
“You could be doing that in my tent, you know,” you said quietly, watching his fingers nimbly weave the fabric back together with needle and thread. “It’s probably easier to see what you’re doing surrounded by candles from all sides than just this fire. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”
“I’m quite skilled at seeing in darkness, thank you,” he said, not looking over at you.
You exhaled softly and leaned your head on his shoulder, effectively stretching your right side, which housed your wound. He paused momentarily, then kept going. 
“I’m okay,” you said softly, barely audible above the roaring fire and the heated discussion of possible battle strategy amongst your companions a few feet away. “I’m not going to get hurt like that again.”
Astarion sighed and halted his work on the pants. “You can’t promise that,” he said, sounding annoyed. He spoke his next words quickly, equal parts irritated and vulnerable: “You have no idea what’s coming and neither do I or any of us and I know you’re capable of protecting yourself but the least I can do right now is make sure you heal properly and don’t get hurt again because if I lost you… I wouldn’t know what to do.” He cleared his throat and looked back down at the fabric in his lap. “Or… whatever.” 
You smiled softly and lifted your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. “I adore you.”
He exhaled an amused breath through his nose. “You’re fine, too.” 
“Thank you for looking out for me.”
He sighed dramatically. “It’s been dreadful.”
You laughed. “I can’t even begin to imagine the sacrifices you’ve made.”
He brought his hands up to count on his fingers. “I’ve barely slept, I’ve been drinking animal plonk as opposed to your delicious vintage, I’ve hardly killed anything in the last few days, and I haven’t been able to sleep with you for just as long, if not longer.”
You were glad he wasn’t looking right at you, otherwise he’d surely see the flush on your cheeks. “You’ve been sleeping with me nearly every night.”
He nudged your unwounded side with his elbow. “You know what I mean.”
You smirked. “I miss you too,” you said. “And I’m sorry. You don’t need to be giving up all of that for me.”
He leaned his head on top of yours which had found its way back to his shoulder. “Just… heal, would you? You wretched thing.”
You reached your hand to rest on top of his knee. “You must be starving.”
“In more ways than one,” he growled teasingly in your ear. 
“I’m serious.”
“As am I. But your blood stays off limits until I’m sure you’re done bleeding.”
You made a frustrated noise. “I haven’t bled in days, you stubborn leech. And you nearly killed me the first time you drank from me, so really, what’s the difference?”
“Yes, but we weren’t us back then. You were just some bard that I crash landed on a horrid beach with.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed through pursed lips.
Now Astarion bent to kiss your cheek. “I’m just being extra careful, my sweet.” He moved his mouth to your ear. “And… it’ll be all the more exquisite when I finally taste you again.”
“Ah,” you said. “So you’re edging yourself.”
Astarion sputtered, “That’s not-” Then he smirked. “And what would you know about edging?”
You swallowed thickly. “Enough.”
He chuckled darkly. “Noted.”
It was quieter now, as your companions had dispersed to their own tents to prepare for tomorrow’s journey to the crèche. 
Still, Astarion kept his voice down. “I have an important question for you though, my darling.”
“And what would that be?”
“Whose belongings should we peruse first tomorrow while everyone’s gone?”
~~~~~
The only interesting items you’d found while snooping around camp the next day were cheap erotic novels hidden among both Shadowheart’s and Wyll’s possessions. 
Everyone, minus Halsin, who was sticking around the edge of camp planning a way through the Shadow Cursed Lands, had made their way to the crèche only a few hours before. 
“‘The Salty Mermaid,’” you’d said, waggling your eyebrows at Astarion who was rifling through Wyll’s tent. 
“You’ll never believe this, darling.” He turned to show you the same book, its illustrated cover even more worn than the copy you’d found in one of Shadowheart’s bags. 
“Shut up,” you said, leaning forward to snatch the book from his hand and holding the copies side by side. Both depicted a shirtless man gazing into the eyes of a beautiful, topless mermaid, her torso turned tastefully away from view. Their mouths were parted slightly in anticipation of a steaming kiss, ocean mist spraying over them and the rock they were perched on in the middle of the ocean. Wyll’s copy looked as though it had been read dozens of times over the span of many years, while Shadowheart’s was newer and gave the impression that it had been opened frequently, given the way the cover refused to rest against the first page.
“This is outrageous,” Astarion said, sitting behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at both books. 
You turned your head to look at him. “Didn’t take those two for naughty book lovers?”
“What? Oh, no, everyone in this camp is a deeply sad, depraved creature, that’s not it.”
You snorted. “Okay, so what-”
“It’s that they didn’t think to include us in their little book club!” His hand gestured wildly between the covers. “You and I read all the time!”
“We don’t know they’re reading them together,” you pointed out. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
Astarion looked at you skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”
You thought for a moment. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Your nights had been occupied spending time with the man currently wrapped delicately around your midsection. You couldn’t be sure that your companions hadn’t started a book club without you. It brought a small smile to your face, imagining your friends bonding with each other without your help.
Astarion didn’t wait for you to answer. “Let’s at least see what all the fuss is about.” He leaned forward slightly, careful not to jostle your right side and took Wyll’s book from your hand. He flipped open to a random page as you set Shadowheart’s book on your lap. You leaned your head against his, which was still resting on your shoulder, and read along with him. He tilted his head slightly to read slowly and seductively in your ear. 
“Fabian ran his calloused fingers along Allura’s scales. Her tail quivered in response.” He held out the “s,” as if hissing, and nipped at your ear.
You flinched in surprise and smacked him gently on the side of the head. 
He chuckled and continued. “‘Taste me,’ Allura pleaded. Fabian smashed his lips against hers and their tongues twisted together like two eels in the Sword Sea.”
You barely withheld a laugh. “Trying to seduce me with eels again, I see.” 
Astarion narrowed his eyes, rereading the passage in disbelief. “Oh, gods dammit.”
You nuzzled the side of his head with your own. “It’s working better this time,” you admitted.
“Oh?” Astarion pulled back and met you with a wicked grin. 
You nodded and watched his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you before pulling back just out of his reach. He opened his eyes and gave you a puzzled expression. 
“I didn’t say it worked completely.” You pushed his nose lightly to turn his face away from yours and back to the book in his hands. 
“Why you-” He dropped the book unceremoniously and brought both his hands to your cheeks to kiss you firmly. You laughed against his mouth before giving in and opening up for him.
“Astarion,” came Halsin’s voice from a few yards away. 
Astarion immediately disconnected the kiss and shot a deadly glare at the bear. 
Halsin hadn’t been looking. Instead he’d been focusing down at what he was holding - a half carved piece of wood, something that was beginning to look like a rabbit. When he finally looked up, he halted in his tracks. 
“My apologies,” he said, holding his hands up in a showing of peace, “I merely wanted to ask Astarion for a better knife. It appears my proper carving tools are lost somewhere within our wares.”
“Hi Halsin,” you said nonchalantly. 
Halsin chuckled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your fun.”
“Fun? What fun? We never have fun.” You nudged Astarion who was still staring daggers at Halsin. 
Astarion sighed and settled his chin back on your shoulder. “Relax, darling, I’m sure Halsin knows all about the kind of fun we have together.” 
Halsin nodded. “Far be it from me to interrupt a spry couple preparing to partake in one of nature’s greatest gifts.”
“Ugh,” Astarion groaned in disgust and you felt your cheeks go red. “You make it sound awful.”
“It’s only natural-”
“Did you check our Traveler’s Chest for your carving tools?” you desperately tried to change the subject. “It’s possible one of us packed them in there by mistake.”
Halsin snapped his fingers. “Of course! And the Traveler’s Chest would be…”
You pointed in the direction of the chest, which was thankfully on the other side of camp. 
Halsin followed your gaze and nodded again. “I shall investigate the chest. Sorry once again.” He started to leave the two of you but turned back around.  “Remember to be careful of your wound.” He gestured to your right side and you absently held your hand to the tender area. “Nothing worse than an injury worsened in the throes of passion.”
“Goodbye, Halsin,” Astarion waved him off. 
Halsin chuckled once more, then left the area. You and Astarion remained silent for a moment, watching him go. 
You looked over at him. “Moment over?”
“So incredibly over,” Astarion lifted his chin from your shoulder and crawled around to sit next to you. “But the druid’s right. You’re still hurt.”
You huffed some hair out of your face. “And you’re still a drama queen.”
Astarion gasped and held a hand to his chest dramatically. “How dare you.”
“I’m fine!” you insisted. “Watch this!” 
You stood and leaned your body to the left, stretching your right side and lifting your right arm over your head.
“See?”
Astarion cocked his head to the side. “Impressive. Now stretch the other way.”
You remained upright and ramrod straight. “I don’t want to.”
“Because…?”
“Because…” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck you! You know why.”
“Because you’re still sore-”
“Yes, because I’m still sore.” You sat beside him again and muttered, “killjoy.”
Astarion stood and reached for your hands, holding them in both of his own. “Call me whatever names you like, it won’t change my mind.” He leaned forward and kissed you softly. 
You frowned at him. “Asshole.”
Kiss. “Darling.” 
“Bat brain.”
Kiss. “Beautiful.” 
“Priss.”
Kiss. “My- hey.” He pulled himself back to look down his nose at you. “I’m not a priss,  I’m simply surrounded by frumps. And Shadowheart.”
You scoffed and reached up to brush your hand through his curls, mussing them ever so slightly. 
“Hey!” he exclaimed, pushing you away and reaching up to fix his hair. 
You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him. 
He glared back and rolled his eyes. “Did I not just call you ‘beautiful?’”
“One of your frequent pet names,” you waved him off playfully and went to pick up Shadowheart and Wyll’s discarded books. “It means next to nothing.”
Astarion turned to watch you. “That’s not true.”
You laughed. “You call everyone ‘darling.’” 
“That’s different.” 
“How so?”
If he were still alive, you’d be able to feel his body heat as he stepped closer to you. He looked up towards the sky and moved his hands around as if searching for the correct words. 
“‘Darling’ has always been a lovely blanket term of endearment for victims whose names I didn’t bother to learn but needed to entice.”
You stiffened, thrown off by his honest answer. “Oh.”
He met your eye. “People like feeling seen, and ‘darling’ does the job quite nicely. Call it a habit now, I suppose.”
You smirked at him. “You know my name, right?”
He smiled sideways in return. “Who are you again?”
“Good answer.”
“Honestly though, darling,” he said, before shaking his head and saying your name instead. “‘Darling’ isn’t anything special to me, that’s true,” he placed his hands firmly on your upper arms, just below your shoulders, “but you are.”
You exhaled a shaky breath, trying but failing not to shrink under his intense gaze. “Another good answer.” 
Astarion rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “Look at me, please.” 
You met his eye again and saw his features soften. 
“I’ve never called someone ‘beautiful’ and not meant it.”
You raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really. In all the times you had to seduce people, you never called someone you weren’t attracted to ‘beautiful’ just to make things go faster?”
Astarion rubbed absent minded circles into your arms with his thumbs. “In those instances, I preferred referring to them as, ‘striking.’”
You snorted. “You can’t be serious.”
“I could say ‘dead serious,’ but that would be atrocious, so I won’t.”
“‘Striking,’” you repeated, laughing a little at the vagueness of it. “I guess that could mean anything.”
Astarion nodded. “Exactly.” He shifted his hands up to your shoulders. “But you, my sweet, are exquisite.” 
You smiled shyly. “I could say ‘aw shucks,’ but then you’d kill me, so I won’t.”
He pushed himself away from you again. “You are infuriating.”
Dropping the books once more, you reached for his wrist as he backed away. “No, no, I’m sorry,” you said as you brought his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me more about how beautiful I am.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before his features settled into a seductive grin. He reached forward and pulled you closer by the waist. His voice was low and flirtatious when he said, “I told you on that first night I had my way with you that you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He shifted his head to nip at your ear, “I meant that.”
A shiver went through your body and you closed your eyes. “Really?”
Astarion scoffed. “I wouldn’t willingly attach myself to just anyone, darling.” He kissed your neck. “For one thing, there’s this gorgeous neck of yours.”
You let out an amused sigh. “Go on…”
“Your eyes,” he said, shifting up to bear his crimson gaze into yours, “they sparkle like anything. I can’t say I’ve ever seen eyes more lovely.” You blinked at him, unsure of what to say. He continued, “Especially when you’re laughing. Preferably at something clever I’ve said.”
That made you laugh. “You’re not always as clever as you think.”
He smiled back at you. “So long as I keep seeing that dazzling smile, I shall make a fool of myself.” After a beat, he clarified, “But only for you.”
If you weren’t careful, you might cry. “You sweet, stupid man.”
“Speaking of that smile; that mouth of yours. I could eat you right up.” 
He bent to kiss you deeply but you pulled away to giggle. “And you have!”
“And I have,” he agreed, succeeding in kissing you this time. 
Your mouth moved against his slowly, keeping in time with him, and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. As the kiss became more intense, his tongue licking into your mouth, your heart picked up speed, which sent Astarion groaning against your lips.
“That delicious heartbeat,” he said dreamily, breaking the kiss. “It’s as sweet as any song you’ve ever played, my love.”
Your eyes shot open as he brought his face down to your throat again to kiss your pulse point. Based on his body language and the sensual way he continually kissed your neck, you had a feeling he didn’t realize what he’d said. He kept talking.
“Your heartbeat means you're alive,” he placed a kiss on your collarbone. “And that you’re here,” a kiss to your chest. “With me,” a kiss atop your clothed left breast, above your pounding heart. “Not to mention it’s the source of my favorite meal,” he pulled back to look at you with a goofy grin that he quickly morphed into one of seduction. When he saw your bewildered expression, his face fell into one of concern. “What is it?”
You shook your head and blinked rapidly, attempting to keep your composure. “Astarion,” you said, your voice full of adoration, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s wrong?” His tone was instantly serious and stern. “Did something happen?” He inspected your right side as if you may have started bleeding again. 
Laughter bubbled out of your chest at his sudden shift in demeanor. This man cared for you so deeply it almost hurt. And it was so blatantly obvious to everyone but himself.
“There’s nothing wrong, dummy,” you said, tapping the tip of his nose to bring his attention back to you. 
He looked at you questioningly and saw nothing but affection in your eyes. “Then…” he leaned in closer, drawn in by the softness of your features, “what is it?”
You leaned in as well, watching his mouth and subconsciously wetting your lips in preparation for what you were about to say. “I…” you eyes began to close, “lo-”
“Tsk'va!”
You and Astarion froze, your mouths inches apart. 
“That wasn’t you, was it?” he muttered. 
You narrowed your eyes at him, swatting his cheek lightly and pulling away.
Lae’zel was standing not too far off, covered in blood, staring at the two of you with an intense ire that had you both nearly jumping away from each other. “You feeble wretches are delighting in intercourse whilst the Lich Queen lies to her kin about purification and I nearly lose my life as a result.”
Astarion straightened and looked at his nails, bored. “Oh, is that all?”
You gave him a look before stepping forward to offer comfort. “What happened?”
Lae’zel looked between you and Astarion before furrowing her brows and marching off to her tent. “She may yet purify me!” she called angrily, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone.
The rest of your party stumbled into camp not far behind. They, too, were drenched in blood and looking worse for wear. You approached them immediately, Astarion reluctantly on your heels. 
“Is everyone okay?” you quickly looked over everyone and didn’t note any major injuries.
“We’re alright,” Wyll assured and nodded to Shadowheart, “no thanks to Shadowheart.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she groaned. “Let’s see if we survive the night.” She gestured towards Lae’zel who was angrily shedding her armor and shrieking frustratedly with each discarded piece.
You looked back at the others and repeated, “What happened?”
“Our little dream visitor had some rather enlightening news for our githyanki friend,” Gale sighed, wiping his brow. 
“Well hang on now,” Karlach said. “Her people, or rather, some random doctor lady, tried to kill her first!”
Wyll nodded solemnly. “Not to mention that fearsome god of hers threatened our lives.”
You inhaled sharply. Even Astarion looked surprised. “What?”
“Why do the gods favor you people?” Astarion crossed his arms. “They never answered me when I called.”
“Now, now, Astarion,” Gale said, “this was not a meeting on the most benevolent of terms.”
Astarion rolled his eyes. “So were you able to kill her or something? Is that why you’re all drenched in what smells like an absurd amount of gith blood?”
“Kill a god?” Wyll laughed lightly. “Be serious, Astarion.”
The vampire shrugged. “I don’t know what you lot are capable of, we just met.”
“‘Just met?!’” Shadowheart scoffed incredulously. “And you think you could have taken on a god? You and what? Those sharp teeth of yours?”
“If you’d like to see what they’re capable of, darling, you need only ask.” He flashed her a malicious grin. 
“Astarion,” you caught his eye and shook your head slightly. 
“If killing that overgrown creep were an option, I gladly would have taken it,” Karlach punched at her open palm. “I can’t stand bullies.”
Halsin now entered the fray. “Peace,” he said calmly. “Everyone should get cleaned up and inspected for injuries, then we can discuss the events of the créche.”
You turned to look for Lae’zel, but her tent was empty. You assumed she’d gotten a jumpstart on the cleaning process. 
“Why is my book in the dirt?!” Shadowheart exclaimed. “Astarion!”
“I think it’s time I go for a hunt,” Astarion kissed you swiftly. “You can handle this, can’t you darling?” Then he took off at a brisk pace down the side of the mountain. 
~~~~~
After Lae’zel and the others had cleaned themselves up and bandaged their shallow wounds, you’d all sat around the fire to discuss what had occurred at the crèche and what the dream visitor had told Lae’zel of Vlaakith’s deception towards the purification process.
That night, Kith’rak Voss and his group of rebel githyanki warriors had visited you and your companions, telling you all that the Astral Prism held the key to Vlaakith’s undoing. He’d also promised to explain more and provide help once you reached Baldur’s Gate. 
“Why must they always be so cryptic,” Astarion had muttered to you from where you stood behind Lae’zel, allowing her to take the lead on this. “If the Prism is a source of unnamed power, then I think we have a right to know about it.” He pouted and you elbowed him lightly. 
As you were preparing to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands the next day, Elminster appeared, bearing a message for Gale from Mystra. 
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you’d steamed after the old wizard left, “you’re not blowing yourself up, Gale. I won’t let you.”
“She’s right,” Astarion agreed. You turned and gave him a surprised look. He shrugged. “Sacrificing Gale to the Absolute is a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.” When you rolled your eyes, he amended, “And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.”
“I am touched, Astarion,” Gale said before turning his attention back on you. “Let’s save such certainty about my fate for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we’re truly up against.” 
Thus your party kept packing up in preparation to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands, which Halsin had discovered an entrance to, not far from your camp. 
Upon entering, the suffocating nature of the dark hit you instantly, and you felt a shift in your party the more you shuffled into the area. 
Astarion held out an arm to stop you from going any further, away from the lit fire you’d found near the entrance. “Can you feel that?” 
“You mean the impending sense of doom?” Karlach asked. “Yeah, I feel it.”
Astarion ignored her. “The dark, it’s… hungry. Best watch the shadows.”
Lae’zel scoffed. “How can darkness feel anything, let alone require sustenance?”
“That’s not-” Astarion sighed. “Oh, nevermind. Just… stay close to the light.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Wyll said, grabbing a torch from the lit fire near the entrance. 
Shadowheart gazed into the distance, straining her eyes to see into the dark. “This place… there’s power in these shadows, I can sense it.”
Astarion snorted. “Shadowheart feeling one with the shadows. A little on the nose there, darling.”
Shadowheart shot him a deathly glare that had him look over at you for protection. You patted his shoulder in response.
“She’s right, though,” Gale agreed. “I’ve never seen such a concentration of shadow magic. We must forge on, but carefully. It will corrupt any who lack the power to control it.”
“Best get a move on, then,” Halsin siad, grabbing a torch in one hand and your party’s ox cart with the other. 
Wyll took the lead with his torch, while the rest of you grabbed your own. You and Astarion brought up the rear as you all made your way through the darkness. He was uncharacteristically quiet as you went. 
“Everything okay?” you asked him quietly, making sure the others wouldn’t be able to hear you. 
Astarion’s eyes were darting around, on high alert, but he looked over at you when you reached for his free hand with your own. “It feels like we’re being watched,” he said, returning his eyes to scanning your surroundings. “Hunted, even. But there’s nothing out there,” he looked in your direction but was focusing on the darkness behind you, “only more darkness.”
You nodded, and joined him in scanning the surrounding area. 
“I much prefer it when I’m the one prowling in the shadows, about to strike.”
“Ooh,” you said, shaking your voice as if telling a scary story, “scaaaary.”
Astarion looked at you with a scowl that you could see was concealing a laugh. “Sorry, did you want something?” He stepped closer to you, bringing his face inches away from yours. “Or just looking for a distraction?” He looked down at your lips. 
“I-” you looked at his lips as well and watched as his mouth formed into a grin. 
“Look alive, lovebirds,” Karlach turned back to face you two. “Movement up ahead.”
Instinctively, Astarion pulled you to him, shielding your right side with his body from possible attacks.
It was then that your party came across a group of Absolute worshippers, seeking passage across the Shadow Cursed Lands to Moonrise Towers with the help of a drider named Kar’niss, who brandished a magical lantern of some kind. You all played along, brandishing your True Soul statuses in order to gain favor and join the cultists on their journey deeper into the shadows. You even offered to play the Spider's Lyre, which Wyll had found and given to you in the Underdark, in order to summon the drider. 
Astarion made it a point of keeping you close, despite the cultists giving you no trouble.
“I’m fine,” you murmured, bumping his hip with your own.
He scoffed. “Oh, so you trust the arachnid is totally sane and won’t turn on us at any given moment?”
“Well-” He made a good point. While Kar’niss had done nothing to prove he was an imminent danger to you, his words were erratic and he’d snapped at you earlier for offering to carry his lantern.
“Wait…” Kar’niss hissed suddenly, holding his lantern aloft in front of what appeared to be a long abandoned house. “Something’s wrong, Majesty.”
“He’s right,” Astarion said quietly, drawing his daggers, “I can sense blood pumping in that building.”
“Should we do something?” Wyll asked.
“Shhh,” Shadowheart hushed. “We don’t know where they are, exactly. Do you want them to spring out at us while they still have the element of surprise?”
“Not particularly,” said Wyll, just as Lae’zel said “Yes,” and drew her greatsword from her back.
“Who’s there?” Kar’niss called. “Show yourself!”
From within the house came a male voice, shouting, “Harpers, attack!” 
“Harpers?” Karlach repeated.
The man continued yelling orders. “Kill the cultists… and get that lantern!”
“HERETICS!” Kar’niss shrieked. “VILLAINS IN THE DARK!”
“Soldier,” Karlach turned to you, a frantic look in her eyes, “Those are Harpers!”
Your own eyes widened. Harpers were known for protecting the innocent from evils across the realms. It made sense why they would want to attack cultists of the Absolute. 
“Wait!” you shouted and ran forward as Astarion called your name, trying to stop you. “We can help!” You spoke to the man leading this gang of Harpers.
The man looked you up and down as Astarion approached you with his knives still drawn, ready to pounce. “Hurt her, and you die,” he growled, dropping into a low stance.
You exhaled. “Sorry about the guard dog.”
“Careful,” Astarion said lowly, “I bite.” He gnashed his teeth at the group of Harpers surveying you closely. 
A woman with long curly hair stepped forward. “Prove we can trust you.”
You nodded and took your lute off your back, strumming a quick tune that had the deep purple magic of Shatter sparking at your fingertips. You turned back towards the cultists, who were now sandwiched between the Harpers and your party. You friends took the hint and drew their own weapons. 
“What are they doing?” Kar’niss eclaimed. “We thought they were True Souls! Traitors! Heathens!”
“Darling, are you sure about this?” Astarion asked, watching you carefully, checking for any signs that you weren’t ready to fight. 
You looked over at him and winked, casting a powerful Shatter that sent the cultists flying in every direction. 
The battle that followed was thankfully not as bad as it could have been, thanks to the help from the Harpers. Astarion had remained by your side the whole time, maneuvering the two of you out of the way whenever an attack landed closeby. He dutifully shielded your right side, stabbing the hobgoblin rather brutally when he lunged at you. 
When the battle ended and it was clear that no one had been injured too severely, you approached Kar’niss’ lantern and picked it up. Its chilly glow appeared to protect you all far better from the Shadow Curse than your long since discarded torches. 
The male Harper who you’d pleaded to at the start of the battle now approached you. “Incredible magic,” he said, indicating the lantern. “I can feel the light lifting the shadows - even those within me.”
Astarion laughed quietly at his remark, and you kicked the vampire in the shin. 
“Find us at the Last Light Inn,” the Harper said, pulling out a map and pointing to a small building by the river. 
“Thank you,” you said, marking the location on your own map.
“Be safe,” he said with a nod. “And be brave. We expect no less. Thank you for your help.” With that, he and his other Harpers made their way deeper into the shadows, accompanied by their own torches. 
“Could we not have gone with them?” Karlach asked.
“Probably had other Harperly duties to take care of,” Gale reasoned. 
“We should probably start heading that way anyway,” you said. “My magic’s depleted and I could use some sleep.”
“Agreed,” Halsin said, stretching his arms above his head and grabbing the ox cart once again. “It will be a relief to rest these weary bones upon a mattress for once.”
“Hmm,” Shadowheart mused, “is grass not cutting it for you anymore?”
“Far from it,” Halsin said. “But even I can appreciate the pleasures of a warm bed every once in a while.”
~~~~~
“Unfortunately, there is only one room available,” Jaheira said flatly when you all entered the inn and approached her at her desk.
Astarion scoffed. “Didn’t you just say outside that there were beds, plural, if we needed rest?” 
“It would seem I lied,” she said, looking through a book that you assumed showed current room assignments. “Oops.” She didn’t sound remorseful. “Looks like you’ll have to decide amongst yourselves who gets the room. The rest of you can make camp in the back. There’s plenty of room under Isobel’s light to keep you sheltered from the Curse.”
“Thank you, Jaheira!” Karlach said excitedly.
Jaheira smiled at Karlach’s enthusiasm and held out a goblet of wine to her. “Please,” she said, her tone suddenly very kind, “be welcome.” She handed a goblet to you as well. “Have a drink.”
“Oh my gods,” Karlach muttered, sharing an excited look with you. 
“To your very good health,” Jaheira said, raising her own cup towards all of you. 
Karlach was practically vibrating with excitement next to you. 
“You’ll have to excuse my friend, Karlach,” you said with a smile. “She’s very excited to meet you.”
She giggled, embarrassed. “Tsh. Yeah.” Her face fell just then, as if realizing she wasn’t being formal enough with her hero. She stooped into a low bow. “I mean… It's an honor. M’lady.”
“I will gladly drink to your health as well, Karlach.” Jaheira’s eyes sparkled with amusement. 
You raised your goblet to mimic Jaheira’s and went to take a sip, but were instead met with the back of Astarion’s hand. Your mouth crushed against his skin.
“You did not seriously just take a sip from a drink given to you by a stranger,” he said in horrified disbelief. 
“I was trying to,” you offered Jaheira an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t expecting to kiss the back of your hand,” you said through clenched teeth. 
Astarion took the goblet from you. “Give me that.”
Karlach had been just about to take a sip, but thought better of it and watched Astarion. 
He sniffed the contents of the goblet. “Klauthgrass,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. 
“It doesn’t spoil the taste,” Jaheira offered, “if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Astarion rolled his eyes and shoved the goblet back into your hand, training his own hands above his sheathed daggers. “She’s trying to feed you a truth serum.”
“Astarion,” you said calmly, as if soothing a startled animal, “it’s okay.” You set the goblet down and reached for both of his hands, pulling them away from his daggers. “She just wants to protect her people. You can respect that, can’t you, my love?”
“Ah,” Jaheira nodded. “‘My love.’ It is admirable that the cub wants to protect his mate.” 
“She’s not-” Astarion sputtered. “We’re just-” He groaned loudly. “I don’t trust you,” he pointed an accusatory finger at the Harper. 
“Oh no,” her tone was flat again. “How ever shall I sleep tonight.”
Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink. 
He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira.
Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well. 
“Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet.
“You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms. 
Shadowheart laughed. “Isn’t the whole reason you’re being so dramatic because your mate almost died?”
“Watch yourself, cleric,” his words were icy, but Shadowheart couldn’t contain her snort.
Jaheira took another sip. “Well over a century old and yet it hasn’t lost a hint of its flavor.”
“Let’s have a taste, then,” Wyll pushed his way forward and took the goblet from you.
“I must see for myself if Astarion’s suspicions are warranted,” Lae’zel took Karlach’s goblet, “and if the wine is as good as this woman says.”
“No, no,” Astarion said sarcastically, “let’s all partake in the poison! Shadowheart? Gale? Halsin? What’s stopping you?”
Shadowheart crossed her arms. “I’ve packed my own wine that I don’t plan on sharing with you all, thank you very much.”
Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be reading a book he’d found discarded somewhere in the bar. “Pardon? Is something the matter?”
Astarion rolled his eyes and turned to Halsin who held up his hands in surrender.
“I rarely imbibe, the stuff goes right to my head. I doubt anyone wants to see that.”
“Mmm, yes, save it.” Astarion turned back to you and the others. “So we’re all going to tell the truth now, that’s great. Go ahead, Jaheira, ask away.”
“There’s an air about you,” she said, addressing you instead of the seething vampire to your right. “Something… alien.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Astarion muttered.
“Answer me true and do not lie,” she didn’t flinch when Astarion scoffed, and pressed on. “The parasite is changing you, isn’t it?”
You could feel the effects of the serum willing your mouth to form a truthful answer. You let it. “It’s trying to change me. To win me over. But I’m resisting its temptations.”
Jaheira looked you up and down. “And you’re certain you will continue to resist?” 
You nodded. “Yes.” The truth.
“Good,” you saw Jaheira’s shoulders relax. “I will take your word for it. And hold you to it, too.”
You looked over at Astarion, whose arms were still crossed. He scowled at Jaheira who turned to address him this time.
“I have every reason to be cautious.” She exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’ve traced people like you.”
“Oh, have you.” Astarion rolled his eyes for what was likely the tenth time this evening.
Jaheira tilted her head. “People with parasites in their brains. All the way here from Baldur’s Gate.”
“A long journey, indeed,” Gale said.
Astarion laughed humorlessly. “Good of you to finally join us, Gale.”
Wyll cleared his throat. “And what of the city?” 
Jaheira turned to him this time. “The cult of the Absolute is spreading through the Gate. Quietly, quickly, and with unsettling deliberation.” 
“Gods…” Wyll breathed. “My father…” Gale patted his arm reassuringly.
“We tracked them to this ancient village,” Jaheira looked down at a map in front of her displaying the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands, and pointed to a village not far off, “only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago.” 
“Who was - is - he?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 
Jaheira paused briefly when she saw Karlach yawn. “General Ketheric Thorm. Remember that name. He’s the leader of the Absolutists.”
“How can we help?” you stepped forward, determined.
“Ugh,” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really, my sweet, is now the time to be playing hero?”
“The vampire is right,” said Jaheira. “We can save this discussion for the morning.”
“Vampire?” Astarion repeated, laughing lightly. “What do you- I’m not-” He slumped. “What gave it away?”
She smirked. “Nearly everything about you. And I have experience with your kind.”
You and your companions snickered, and Astarion shot you all death glares. 
“Yes well… it’s been such a delight chatting with you, Jaheira, but I think now’s the time to discuss the room situation.” Astarion turned around so that his back faced Jaheira, effectively cutting her out of the conversation. 
She laughed. “When you decide who gets the room, it’s next to the bar, on the right.” Just as she was about to leave and take care of other matters, she turned back. “Do keep it down if it’s you two who get the room,” she gestured to you and Astarion. “The walls aren’t as thick here as you think they are. Those sitting around the bar will hear you and tell me all about it and I’d… prefer to remain in the dark if it’s all the same to you.”
“Jaheira!” Astarion scoffed. “What do you think of me?”
“Prove me wrong, vampling,” she winked at you and went on her way.
Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips. “Go on, Astarion. Make a case for why the two of you are in desperate need of the room.”
Astarion looked at his nails. “Well, darling, it’s just that we’ve had such little time to ourselves-”
Halsin interrupted. “I’m… going to set up camp outside. I yield my claim to the room and will gladly sleep under the stars. Or… I suppose there are no stars here. Regardless-” he turned on his heel and walked out the front door to reunite with your ox cart full of camp supplies.
“I’ll join him,” said Wyll.
“Right behind you,” Karlach agreed.
“Okay,” Gale looked around at those remaining. “That leaves four of us, considering you two as a unit.” He pointed between you and Astarion, the latter of which looked offended, but you grabbed his hand and squeezed it before he had a chance to argue.
Lae’zel adjusted her greatsword in her arms. “It is tradition among githyanki that those who performed best in battle should have the most comfortable sleeping chambers.”
Gale furrowed his brow. “Is that true? I’ve yet to read anything about that in my extended research on the githyanki people.”
Lae’zel shrugged.
Shadowheart spoke next. “It’s just that I drained so much of my magic healing everyone on the battlefield today. I think I deserve to sleep in comfort to replenish my power since we have no clue what tomorrow brings.” Then she quickly added, “Since we’re in her domain, I’d say it’s as if Lady Shar herself wills it.”
Astarion snorted. “Like hells she does.” He turned to Gale. “And what’s your excuse?”
“The knees,” Gale said, bending his knees for you all to hear an audible crack. “Too many nights on the ground will do no favors for one’s aching joints.”
You could see where this was going. There would be a constant back and forth until a loud argument inevitably broke out in the middle of the inn. You knew it was a bit devious, but you decided to get the jumpstart on ending the argument. 
You took Astarion’s hand. “Come on, Astarion,” you said with a sigh, “we can rough it outside for another night.”
He didn’t budge. “You can’t be serious, darling.”
“I am serious- Oh.” you paused in trying to get Astarion to follow you and reached for your right side. “Ow,” you said slowly.
Astarion said your name, his voice laced with worry.
“Oh gods,” you blinked your eyes several times, tears filling your vision.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Astarion brushed hair out of your face and placed his hands on your cheeks. 
“I don’t know,” you said shakily. “I suddenly got a sharp pain in my side. I think my wound may have opened again.” 
“Oh for gods’ sakes,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and held out her hand to scan you for injuries with her magic. “You know what, if it’s that important to you, you can have it.” With that, she left after the others.
“Are you alright?” Gale asked. 
“I know what would make her feel better,” Astarion said, catching on to your ruse. 
“Do not say the room,” Lae’zel glowered at him.
“The room,” Astarion said anyway. 
“Chk,” she spat. “Fine. Have your precious alone time. But when they kick you out for pleasuring each other too loudly, I get the room in your stead.”
“Uh… if that’s the case, she can have it after you two.” Gale smiled painfully. “I shall concede as well. If only so I can grab some shut eye without your loud-”
“Ooowww,” you moaned.
“Good gods, man!” Astarion exclaimed, clutching you to his chest as if you were made of glass. “How can you think of sex at a time like this! My precious treasure is wounded!”
“I mean, Lae’zel alluded to it first-” Gale pointed to where Lae’zel had been standing, only to see that she had already left. “Ah. I guess I’ll take my leave as well.”
“Ow! Gods, it hurts!” you wailed.
“Get out of here!” Astarion practically yelled at the wizard.
Gale sighed. “Goodnight you two.”
“Goodnight Gale!” you called after him sweetly.
When he turned back to look at you, you were limp in Astarion’s arms, one of your own arms thrown dramatically over your eyes.
“Now look what you’ve done!” It was Astarion’s turn to wail. 
“Alright!” Gale turned and held up his hands in frustration. “I’m going!”
When he was finally gone, Astarion pulled you into him for a long, passionate kiss. “You are the perfect woman,” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. 
“I’ll have to remind you of that the next time I annoy you,” you laughed and took his hand, leading him to the room.
Jaheira’s voice sounded from the second floor, “I would appreciate it if you did not yell while my Harpers and our guests are trying to sleep.” Despite her stern tone, her expression revealed mild amusement. 
“Sorry, Jaheira,” you whispered loud enough for her to hear you from the railing she bent over. 
“Good night, cubs.” She waved her hand and left you and Astarion to settle into your room.
~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (WHOOPS!) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.
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smolvenger ¡ 11 months ago
Text
It's Christmas, After All (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)
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Summary: It seems you are spending Christmas alone...until Loki joins you.
Word Count: 4987
Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ (Thigh riding, blowjobs, sex on a chair and table, doggy style, p in v sex, orgasm denial), Spoilers for Loki season 2, lots of angst in the beginning with loneliness until it becomes tooth rotting mega indulgent fluff. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, y'all!
DICK-Tionary: Smut starts at "Gladly" and ends at "Panting, you held onto each other as he helped you down."
A/N: Hi there @loz-3!! I am your Secret Santa for @fictive-sl0th's event! Happy Holidays and I hope you enjoy it and don't mind how super indulgent and wild it gets! Happiest of holidays to you!!! :) I hope it makes you happy this season and all year around!!!
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @loz-3
It should be a special day. 
But here you were. Doing the same things as normal. Your same coffee. Your same breakfast. Your same place. Scrolling the same apps on the same phone. The same sky. The same weather. Only with some festive decorations around the place. Once it had cheered you up to see lights amid the gloomy weather. Now it made the place seem gaudy.
Social media was all the same. Smiling, happy people with their families and significant others and friends. How was it that people had big friend groups in real life as adults and did things together constantly? It felt like no matter how hard you reached out at work….they weren’t interested. You saw one girl from college with her husband and two little kids all in matching pajamas. You wished partly to get one of those pajamas. Because no matter what tacky red plaid set you got, you at least belonged to a group that all wore the same set. That you were included. One of something.
It didn’t feel like a holiday or a special day. Especially not Christmas- the day that was supposed to be the best of the year. To think you didn’t have work. Then at least you would have something to do, to get your mind off everything. 
But no. Only quiet, lonely, long hours on a day of gathering and joy. Only there was no one to gather with. And the joy you were trying to make yourself feel…was nothing.
You were living on your own with a roommate. And she was off with her boyfriend to be all heart eyes and then eat casseroles with his family.
Your parents had booked a trip. They said they were sorry but next time they would bring you. And off they were at some tourist spot. You wished you could go- as tacky as the place was, as much as you had seen it top to bottom… it meant you could at least play cards and drink wine and cook meals with them on this holiday.
All of your friends lived far away in other places. Some were doing amazing things. Incredible jobs and opportunities. Greatness was reached for them…..but not for you. Some lived in town but grew apart- getting married. Or onto their own lives. Regularly posting pictures about their own “best friends.” Best friends who weren’t you.
You had befriended the Avengers, but off they went to either save the world or to their own families to celebrate. You knew Thor and Loki would go to Asgard for a feast with their family to commemorate Yule. Much less Loki- the handsome, charming trickster god probably had better things to you than deal with you...at least any more than friendship. A tiny one began between you two as you talked. But no…you were overthinking. What would he even see in you? You likely weren’t even his type! At least he didn’t notice your ogling when he was in the room. But…he was a god. He could have whoever he wanted….and not likely you. 
You looked down at the texts you sent over to your sister and her husband. They were the only true, close friends in town you had. 
“Hi there Sydney! I'm just asking- could I come over for Christmas? I want to just hang out!”
It was sent and Read on December 20th. No reply.
Then at the text over with your brother-in-law.
“Hey, there Sam! Can I come over and celebrate with you guys? I can bake something and bring it over! Plus I can’t wait to see your faces when you open my gifts!”
Sent December 22nd. No reply.
Once you have done everything together with your sister. Then she got married and suddenly…she had someone else. And you had no one. You then still tried to reach out to them. Going to movies, enjoying little family dinners, hanging out, and even sleeping over at each others’ houses. 
Now…nothing. You looked at another text you sent them.
“Hey, Sydney! I’m free tomorrow- want to watch that movie we both discussed for the longest time seeing?”
Sent on December 18th. Read. No response. 
It was like you no longer mattered to them anymore.
You wanted to yell at them. You wanted to march over to their place, open the door, and scream at both of them. Throw an angry tantrum like a child. How dare they ignore you. Leave you alone- they were all you had. The only live friends they had outside of a bunch of superheroes and gods who were always busy. You wanted to throw something at them. Yell that they never replied to your messages. That suddenly you were ignored and unimportant. That they were all you had and accusing them of treating you like dirt. Call them out for their shortcomings as you cursed and called them harsh words. You wanted to tear them both apart. 
But…that was Destroying what good relationships you had with your sister and your brother-in-law. At least that’s what your mother would say. 
But…you knew there was a chance they were both working on Christmas with their jobs. They worked night jobs and slept all day. They refused to go to things you planned to do with them due to “needing to sleep.” They had to make ends meet and It wasn’t fair on their end.
Yet on Christmas, it wasn’t fair on their end. 
You ruminated more on them. Sydney and Sam, spend their days sleepily cuddling, binging streaming shows, cooking, and working nights. Discussing baby names and having one when they clearly couldn’t afford the rent increase. Their impracticality and sometimes immaturity. yet you loved them. But it was like they were in a bubble. Wrapped up in their little world. At least, Happy and in love. You wanted to be in love, to be loved, wanted, included….and here you were…alone.
Unloved. Unwanted. Unincluded. 
You knew if you watched any Christmas movies, you would be surrounded by images of people smiling in groups. People were with their spouses, lovers, friends, and families all smiling and happy. Even if there was conflict like in any movie and someone was left in solitude…later they would all hurry in full of chatter and laughter and smiles.  Because belonging, being wanted, was now just a fantasy.
You sat down on the couch and cried. What was worst of all - It was your favorite holiday. The lights, decorations, hope, music, food, beauty, joy- yet you were spending it alone. 
Because you weren’t wanted anywhere by anyone. 
You were spending it and closing the year as a failure. A lonely, awful failure. 
The tears rolled down, making you gasp for breath and continue to sob. Curling up in the fetal position on the couch, crying, crying away until you were gasping for breath and snot running down your nose.
You heard some talking outside. It was colder- though a couple you knew, Mr. and Mrs. Malloy, was walking around. They lived in the big house across the road. They were dressed in their designer furs holding portable cups that you knew were homemade chocolate-peppermint espresso. Mr. Malloy with his brown hair, sharp green eyes, and a face that looked more like Handsome Squidward than an actual person. Mrs. Malloy with long, shiny red hair that was soft and full of products and curled to perfection, and her face was perfectly done with makeup products that were three times your car insurance. You could already smell the cologne and perfume from in your house. They smelled of money and loved to flaunt it to everyone. 
As they strutted, a stranger walked by. Hands in pockets. A tall man in a big red puffer winter jacket with a black beanie hat that hid the top of his head walked by. It was hard to make out his face. They accidentally bumped into him.
“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” barked Mrs. Malloy, gripping her cup with her designer gloves. “I almost got coffee on me!”
“I’m sorry,” voiced the stranger. He bowed his head down, genuinely ashamed.
A decent person in the Malloy’s position would have acknowledged and accepted the apology. Perhaps even laugh it off- the coffee was still untouched and their clothes intact. Assure the stranger it was alright.
The Malloy’s were not decent people. 
“Sorry doesn’t cut it! Just leave!” sneered Mr. Malloy.
The couple huffed and walked away past him. Taking sips from their drinks. Their noses up in the air. 
The stranger behind lifted an ungloved, white hand towards them. His fingers swirled in the air. Then he fled to the far corner to watch.
 Then as Mr. and Mrs. Malloy looked down their cups, sensing something was off. When they did, they let out a scream.
Out of the lid, instead of steaming espresso were a lot of tiny brown snakes that slithered out of the cup and down onto the ground. You let out a gasp where you stood watching. 
The couple tried to stomp at them, but in vain- the tiny snakes were as invincible as cockroaches. Mr. and Mrs. Malloy screamed and ran away to their three-story house in fear.
You burst into laughter so much your cheeks hurt and your face felt warm.
It then hit you- you knew only one person even capable of that.
The man returned from his corner, his face turning to see you. He gave you a wink. You gave him a smile and a wave. 
With a tilt of his head, the jacket turned to a dark brown peacoat and his hair was long, dark, and curly. An ivory face with cheekbones that could cut steel and sweet blue eyes. Hands casually in his pockets. The most beautiful man in all the realms you had ever seen.
At once, you threw on a jacket. You hurried to open the door. Loki walked to you with a smile.
“You’re here?!” you asked.
He gave a shrug
“If I have to tolerate my father’s Yule feast for one more minute, I was going to go mad,” Loki announced.
You took a step closer to him. The air was chilly, though not cold enough for snow.
“But why here? Why me? You could go anywhere….” you mused.
He let in a tight breath, raising a hand to brush through his curls.
“I may be a god of lies and deceit…but I…I didn’t want you to be alone today, my dear,” said. “And you, a great beauty of Midgard, alone on an auspicious day- it didn’t seem right.”
Chest fluttering from the complement. You…in just your sweater and jeans, a great beauty?! Yes, he could flirt and charm a statue to blush. That was his nature. Compliments rolled off him like his magic. You better not think any more of it.
Your whole self was bursting with gratitude and happiness. To have company, especially on Christmas of all days. To not be alone anymore.
Wiping off a few stray tears, you ran forth and tackled him in a hug, crying and laughing as he hugged you back. Accepting it. You were both lonely souls, not wanted, not chosen. So it was fate that a god should cross paths with a mortal with whom he shared so much of his pain. 
“Come inside and get warm,” you offered.
He smiled, looking at the grey sky. The ground was grey with gravel and green from the grass.
“Let’s make something to get warm from,” he suggested. 
With a flick of his hand, the temperature shot down. You shivered further into your coat. Then it began to snow down big, white puffs. You smiled, letting a hand out to feel them. How soft they were! Their tiny, intricate patterns where none were the same. A small laugh came out despite you. 
“It’s beautiful! Now it really feels like Christmas!” you praised. 
You didn’t realize the god of mischief looking at you, the white flakes falling on his dark hair and the rims of his long eyelashes. A softness on his features. His own heart picked up at the happy look on your face. His smile was soft.
“Alright- now let’s go inside,” you offered.
His hand reached up magic pouring through and around.
 His magic went around in little golden slivers that went around the place. You gasped as it transformed everything it touched. Your jaw dropped at the transformation.
 It was turned into a perfect Christmas home- a crackling fireplace grew from the wall with two green stockings. A turkey dinner complete with every side dish you could name was served on the table. Its delectable smell made your mouth water. A record player opened with the overture of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker ballet, the beautiful, playful, and mischievous music ringing through and sounding better than any ho-hum Christmas song the radio blasted ten billion times. Because it was from him. From Loki.  And as you looked at the tree, with even more glittering gold decorations around it, a few resembling the horns on his helmet, a beautiful star sparkled on top. You gasped when you saw the skirt- there were piles of presents in green wrapping paper with gold ribbons. They weren’t there before. 
You went to one like a little child full of both innocent greed and wide-eyed curiosity. You picked it up and shook it, feeling something in there. 
“Are the gifts…real?” you asked.
“Of course- and a good portion of them are for you!” he replied.
The music moved onto the second part of the ballet’s first act- “Un fete du noel.” Soft strings and flutes over repeating lower strings full of anticipation and joy. 
“Oh, but Loki…I..this is…so much, I-”
“If it weren’t for you, I’m sure I’d be either strangled to death or stuck in a tree of my creation! And I promise you they aren’t all pranks. Only one-quarter of them.”
“Thank you!” you gasped.
You went up and hugged him. So overjoyed, you pecked him on the cheek. He blinked in surprise. As you turned around, the god himself blushed pink. 
Giggling, you picked up a present. The pranks were ones that were empty until the ribbons became little sparkling fireworks that made you laugh. 
Then there was one that was empty when suddenly your clothes were transformed from your plain sweater and jeans to the fancy Christmas outfit of your dreams. It was a deep green dress made of velvet with a fitted waist and a long skirt, like something the ladies of White Christmas would wear. You felt….felt beautiful in it.  You smiled at him in thanks. 
They own were things you long craved for, and wanted. Beautiful things. And practical things. Things outside of your budget. Things that would help make life easier. Or a little beautiful. The very things you wanted. If you wanted it desperately there it would be laid. Lovely, lovely things. You were crying- but tears of happiness. 
Loki merely sat on the couch, smiling at you. Beneath his peacoat was his average Midgard wear. A shirt and brown khakis that were both deliciously tight. A tie that made him seem like a professional office worker. As he eventually took off the coat and rolled up his sleeves, you stifled the urge to gawk at him.
“Oh, and your presents!” you gasped to Loki.
“I’m out of my father’s palace, what more could I need?’ he asked smoothly.
You felt warm and tingly inside but ignored it.
“Oh no! You deserve something too! I…I got you two gifts! They were on sale and I couldn’t pick just one.  I hope it’s…it’s alright!” you offered. 
You ran into your room. The music still tinkling, moving onto the Dance of the Snowflakes. He used his magic to open the curtains to see the window. The beautiful snowy day. People ran out to play, children giggling. To think…though he was a Frost Giant and feared, his magic could do a little good.
 You emerged out with two boxes. One small and one big in red wrapping paper. He opened up the smaller box and found a set of fine brushes and combs. He grinned at them, testing the bristled with one of his beautiful, long fingers. 
“I didn’t know how you cared for your hair- I always thought it looked nice- I thought you could use some!” you suggested.
He gave a small laugh looking at them. 
“They’re perfect! I could always use them- Mother used to scold me for not tending to my hair! These I will treasure,” he assured you.
He then began to open the second bigger one. His eyebrows lifted as he got to the box and removed the lid. Inside was a thick, knitted black scarf. He smiled at it, testing it by wrapping it around him. It fit around him like it was made for him.
“You know me well, my dear. Thank you,” he replied. 
With grumbling stomachs, you went over to the table. He conjured black cloth napkins and had one placed delicately on your lap. It was like being at a much fancier restaurant than being at your apartment. 
You sat down and enjoyed the dinner- the meat was tender and full of flavor. The sides were all of your favorites, hot and freshly made. The desserts and sweets were full of powdered sugar that melts in your mouth. You had to suppress the sounds you made at tasting them. Loki had to remind you to slow down and taste it, enjoying it.
You showed one of your favorite Christmas movies. He asked questions and you laughed and explained everything. He looked at the commercials that played on the TV and then one featured Santa Claus. He tilted his head at it.
“Hmm, he looks like my father. Father was one of the inspirations for this Claus figure- did you know that?” he commented.
“Really! Though- Santa Claus is much nicer! I assure you!” you promised him.
The fire roared and it was quiet. He conjured two mugs of mulled wine. You sipped and smiled at the hot, spicy drink. The alcohol burning you a little, but relaxing you. You both let out a cheer for the holidays. The sun outside began to set early as it always does on a winter day. You both chatted- about Thor, your family and work, about the Avengers, the gifts, all sorts of things. He then looked around the place, finishing the wine with a last sip as he sat on the chair. 
“Loki…I cannot thank you enough. I know I said thank you a hundred times today- but…why did you do all of this….for me? Not just to get away from Odin, but…you didn’t have to give me all of these gifts and a nice meal and make my place pretty…”
He cupped his mulled wine mug with both hands.
“Because…because…my dear, because….” he began to stutter.
He paused. His blue eyes were big, but never left yours. A god full of magic…and he was nervous!
“I really don’t know how to say this,” he continued. 
Your throat went tight and your heart raced wildly. Wondering if this was a dream.
“But I feel sometimes…you and I…are tied together. No matter how hard I try to stop, you always appear there in my head. At every time of the day. You….you who have stayed by my side. Listened to me. Cared for me…And I find I want to return to you. Even if I had to crawl on my knees to get to you, I would. Because, my dear, I…I have…soft feelings for you, my dear…tender feelings…”
Unable to take it, you set down your mug and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss. were on him like an animal. His hands reached over to your waist. You kissed him- tasting the hot spiced wine he had been drinking. His hand went to you.
It wasn’t long until he had backed up. He sat on a chair and at once you straddled him. 
His breath hitched- he was getting hard and you felt him right on your pants. You held his face and kissed him. He was groaning as you did. There were wet noises from the kissing.
“Dear girl, darling, sweet girl…I want to take you on each surface and ruin you in every way,” he said.
“Then start here- with this one,” you offered with the chair. “Ruin me then.”
With a flick of magic, your clothes changed. You were in deep green lingerie of a babydoll and high lace stockings and a lace thong you were certain was green too. He was only in black pants and a santa shirt that was wide open, showing his delicious wide chest with black chest hair and six-pack.
He smirked at you and said one word.
“Gladly.”
Holding onto him, you ground against him as you kept kissing his neck, his shoulders over his shirt. He moaned at the touch. You went to his neck-sucking on as you touched each bit of him. His large, delicious hands feel the lingerie on your mid body and your legs. You heard him chuckle. 
“I see my little pet is eager,” he began.
He set you on his thigh and you gasped.
“Here you go- ride this first. Get yourself ready- and I want those sounds of yours loud. So I know what pleasure I can give you.”
You began to roll your hips. He moved it up and down, eyes brimmed with lust as he watched you.
You let out one moan- his leg hitting your thin panties, already getting wet. Then as you grinded on his leg again, you let out another louder one like he commanded. You saw his erection even on the darkness of his pants as you did. His hands touched your body beneath the babydoll, squeezing your hips. Then going up, holding both of your breasts, squeezing and feeling them.
His chest was revealed- wide and strong pectorals, with a little hair. Abdominal muscles with a six-pack made of ivory. You rode his thigh for another minute, letting your thong get ruined with how soaked you became. Then you leaned forward, grinning. You began to kiss his chest. Then you used your tongue and licked it. The hot skin beneath you, a little salty from his sweat. He moaned in turn.
“Yes…I like that…that too, my dear- keep…keep going…”
You then stopped, smiling at him.
“I have to thank you first…for everything you did today,” you giggled.
At once you got on your knees, eagerly finding the zipper of his pants and undoing it. Out sprang his large cock, white pearls dripping off of the tip. So hard it was touching his stomach.
“See…see what effect you have on me, pet? What you do to me- even when you just smile at me…we need to take care of that…”
“Yes…let me….” you grinned.
You set your lips around his cock and began to suck at it. He let out a groan. His hands find the top of your head. You sucked at it like it was candy, as saltier than the rest of his skin. As you did, you swirled your tongue over the tip and he hissed out your name. He began to experimentally thrust a little inside you. Though your eyes burnt, you took as much of it as you could- for he was a god even with the size of his length. His shudders through him.
“Yes…good girl, my good, good little mortal- taking your god's cock in your pretty lips, on your knees- yes-good fucking girl,” he voiced out. 
You felt him tense up, a small release as he gasped. You then went up, wiping off his cum that dripped down from your mouth. At once you got up and had him watch as you swallowed. His own body stilled. His cock still raging hard. One of the benefits of being a god- he was always horny and ready and didn’t take long to want more after he came.
“Norns,” he voiced in awe.
Then you mounted him, still hard.
You kept at it, lapping up his skin- kissing him on that delicious chest and on his shoulders. You could feel yourself get even wetter as he did.
“My darling-I-I cannot take it-I- have to be inside of you…” he breathed out, his voice raspy. 
His hands gathered your skirt to your waist and he ripped apart the thong of your own creation. Your wetness cold from the sudden exposure. You wrapped your legs on the couch to mount him. At once you plunged inside. You let out a cry from the size as you adjusted. You began to ride him- your breasts bouncing. 
“Ah- ah!oh-oh-Loki- fuck, yes- there-yes, I love-I love you-fuck!” you were moaning’
“Yes-yes-take your god like a good girl- all of it-all of me-”
He groaned and made a small sound. As he pounded away. You felt yourself speeding up, the high, about to reach bliss when….when he stopped. His hands are on your waist.
“I want to take you like a whore now,” he said. “Would you like that?”
“Yes…yes please,” you said. 
He picked you up, legs around. He kissed you, still tasting himself on your lips and breath. Your hands still fisted around his curls. still around and brought you to the table. The plates and silverware made a sound like a crash as they fell to the floor as he shoved them aside. 
He had you bend down over it. He let out a guttural breath with a smile at the sight of your bare ass over it for him. He gave you a strong spank and you let out a small yelp. Gripping the table on the other end for what was about to happen. 
“Who is your god?” he asked.
“L-Loki is.”
He spanked you again. You let out a cry.
“Who gave you all of this-?”
“Loki did!”
“And you will pay back by being my obedient little girl, will you?” he asked.
“Yes, yes please-”
He thrust inside you from behind. You let out a cry. His breaths were low pants. He pounded in, the table shaking. What plates and silverware and food there was shaking with it. Your hand became a tight fist as he pounded on. It was so rough, hard, and filthy, you couldn’t help but love it. 
He pulled you roughly up, your own moans with each filthy thrust of his.
“Yes-even here- you will take…take your god's cock in every way. Yes- yes, there-fuck-norns-what you-you do to me-your god,” he hissed out, his breath right behind you.
You felt it bubble up again. You let out another moan as you tilted your neck behind him, feeling it.
“Yes-yes Loki- Loki-please…please- I’m about to-to cum, please, let me-let me cum-” you pleaded. Your own folds inside shaking from the power.
“No…wait…”
He pulled out of you. You let out a small sigh. Your body shaking. Taking so much. Desperate for release.
“When you cum, I want to see it,” he breathed out.
He flipped you around and positioned you to wrap your legs around him. You embraced him. At once he entered again. Then thrust into you, slow at first. 
“Eyes on me. No one else- watch me. I want you-want you to look me in the eye when you cum. So no man. No god- no one can give you this pleasure-”
He began to pound into you again on the table, you bounced Your breath was hitching in high gasps.
“Ah- oh- hmm-yes-yes there-oh gods-Loki-”
“Eyes on me, darling-look at me-”
His hands then wandered to your clit. So powerful and large, they began to strum it. You let out another moan.
“Look- at-me,” he commanded.
You were so hazed you forgot- his voice commanding-your had your eyes focused on him. His jaw tightened, fighting his own release too.
“Eyes. On. Me- who gives you pleasure?”
“You do!” you cried out.
“Say my name, darling-”
He fiddled with your clitoris faster, you fought it, it was finally going to break at this rate.
 You let out a shout. It was building up in you. He pounded you into a fury. So many quick deep thrusts, the table going wild.
“Yes- say it darling- say it, I’m cumming- yes- cum with me- look at me- look at me- yes, I feel it- I’m going to-going to cum- I command you- say it- say my-say my name!!”
You let out a breathy cry of “Loki!” as it broke on you and you climaxed so hard his face and the room spun.
Panting, you held onto each other as he helped you down. He conjured you a glass of water to sip on. 
“Are you ok?” he asked. “It was a lot.”
“It was perfect. Presents, a meal, and an orgasms- you’re spoiling me rotten already,” you teased.
He smiled and chuckled at the phrase. You both got in blankets snuggling before the fire.
So much time had passed it didn’t occur to you that your phone dinged with an alert. You picked it up. An hour ago, your sister and her husband sent a reply saying they were sorry since they fell asleep and now saw you and that you were welcome to see them. You let out a laugh.
“Would you like to, my dear?” he asked.
“Not in this…” you gestured to the babydoll. “But I do want to keep it…I have my favorite gift to enjoy tonight?”
“The ravishing little number you have on?” he asked.
“Oh no…it’s a handsome gift, tall, dark hair, blue eyes,” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around him.
“Merry Christmas, pet,” he whispered.
It was indeed.
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hannibals-favourite-meal ¡ 1 year ago
Text
.⋆。What He Deserves。⋆.
Alpha!Bucky Barnes x omega!plus size reader
The morning after Bucky claims you, he realises how much he truly loves you
Warnings: implied smut, nudity, mention of claiming, fluff, brief talks about Bucky’s past
WC: 478
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
4k Celebration
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Dawn crept over the horizon slowly, the weak winter sun just barely breaking through the curtains on the far side of the bedroom, creating small beams of light that fell over the bed. There were pillows and sheets strewn everywhere, leaving the bed bare save for a singular blanket that covered the occupants.
Bucky had been awake for hours, in fact he hadn’t even fallen asleep. Too overwhelmed with new emotions to even think about shutting his eyes, he had just watched you. You were sprawled on top of him, your naked body fitting perfectly on his own, chest to chest, your legs intertwined with your nose firmly pressed against his collarbone.
The wound on your shoulder was already healing, it would leave a scar but that was the whole point wasn’t it. A perfect circle of small cuts that, if Bucky leaned down and put his mouth to it, would match the pattern of his teeth. Unable to stop himself, he rubbed his thumb against the broken skin and fresh wave of your scent washed over him.
Bucky groaned as he inhaled, the smell of you so raw and untainted it made his skin prickle with goosebumps.
“Alpha?” Your voice came out as more of a rasp, still thick with sleep.
He winced. “Sorry mega, didn’t mean to wake you.” You hummed and nuzzled further into his warm chest, your hand coming up to rest just over his heart. Bucky smiled and kissed the top of your head.
“’S okay.” You sighed, a happy calmness spreading through the fresh bond. It immediately settles in his stomach, a feeling of peace and home. His grip gets just a little tighter but you don’t fight it, instead your soft body goes completely limp in his arms as you let out a contented mewl.
Snores began to escape your lips once more and Bucky just watched you. This was all he had ever wanted but never thought he could have, or deserved. You were his everything and by the grace of whatever god was out there, you let him worship you and love you with his whole being.
And now you were mated, joined together for eternity.
You chased away his nightmares with a smile, banishing them to a place where they could never hurt him again. You guided him into the light with your laughter, you showed him that touch doesn’t always bring pain. You proved to him that he was more than his past, more than a puppet for someone else’s bidding. 
“I love you more than I ever thought possible.” He spoke quietly into the early morning light so as to not wake you once more. He let his eyes finally slip shut, content with you in his arms, your scent keeping him grounded.
He couldn’t wait to wake up and start the rest of your lives.
Request: Do you think I could get a a/b/o with either “I burn for you,” or “I love you more than I ever thought possible” with either Kylo Ren or Bucky Barnes?
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gingiesworld ¡ 4 months ago
Text
Nerf Wars (Drabble)
Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader
Warnings : Fluff
18+ MINORS
Word Count: 993
AN: Per my girlfriend’s request for a mega fluffy one shot
Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)
Wanda had her hands full with the twins and Y/N, although Y/N was supposed to act like an adult, they never really did when they were alone with the twins, so every time Wanda came home from work, the house always seemed to be a mess, she would find the three of them doing something out of sorts.
“I’m going to get you back!” She heard Y/N yell as she opened the door, sighing as she heard the twins squeal and laugh. She dreaded seeing what she had walked into today, but she knew that this time with the twins was important to Y/N since their work took them away from their family for long periods of time.
“Nooo!” She heard Billy squeal, dreading to see what state the living room was in. She sighed when she stood in the doorway, the chairs and sofa were up turned as the three had their nerf guns out, firing at each other from either side of the room.
“We’re unstoppable!” Tommy yelled as he managed to get Y/N in the eye.
“Ow!” Y/N cried out as they took cover, only then aiming their gun above the chair and aiming blindly at the twins, not seeing as the two decided to sneak out from behind the sofa and made their way towards Y/N. The two stopped in their tracks to see Wanda, who only pressed her finger to her lips, silencing them before motioning for one of the guns which the twins gave up without question. She made her way to Y/N, standing over them with the gun aimed at their head.
“I thought I said no more nerf wars in the living room?” She questioned with a raised brow, making Y/N look at her, their eyes wide.
“Hello love, how was work?” They asked her sweetly, making her smirk at their sudden change of attitude.
“I warned you, you get the twins riled up and they get too excited to go to bed.” She told them, raising her brow as Y/N put their gun down, the twins watching with growing smirks as Y/N’s smile dropped as Wanda kept the gun aimed at them.
“I know but we wanted to have fun.” They tried, making her shake her head before she shot them in the forehead, making them groan before she took the nerf guns from them.
“I want this living room back to the way I had it in the time I get the twins ready for bed.” She ordered them as they sighed.
“But that’s not going to be too long though.” They whined as they rose to their feet.
“They’re both too excited right now, so yes, it will take some time because they have got to calm down.” She told them before she turned to the twins. “I want you both in your pajamas and teeth brushed and in bed. Now.” She told them, watching as the twins both ran up the stairs, smiling as she turned to see Y/N working on getting the living room back to the way it was. Once she had hid the nerf guns, she made her way to the twins bedroom, seeing the two of them tucked in bed.
“Please don’t be mad mama.” Billy spoke sadly as Wanda sat on the edge of his bed.
“I’m not mad.” She reassured them. “I just don’t want your O’pa to know that I love seeing you all like this, it makes it more fun for me too.” She smirked, not noticing that Y/N was leaning against the doorframe.
“We love it when we play our games with O’pa.” Tommy told her. “It helps to forget that they will be leaving us again soon.”
“I know you both miss them when they’re not here, but they make the world a safer place.” Wanda told them.
“But what if we lose them?” Billy asked as Wanda sighed, not really knowing how to answer him.
“You’re never going to lose me.” Y/N spoke up, sitting on the edge of Tommy’s bed. “You three are the reason why I fight my hardest to come home, you three are my home.” They sighed before they decided to tell them. “Besides, I’m not going on missions anymore.”
“What?” Wanda questioned as Y/N nodded.
“Yeah, I spoke with Steve and told him I can’t risk it, not when I have my family here, so I’m going to be training the new recruits and then I will be coming home to you three every day.” They told them.
“So, you’re not leaving us again?” Tommy asked as Y/N shook their head no.
“I’m not leaving you again. I’m going to be here, I’m going to be there cheering you both on at your games and decathlon meets.” They told them before they turned to Wanda. “I have missed too much and I don’t want to miss anymore, I want to be here for you guys and I’m scared that one day I might not make it home if I went on another mission.” Both Billy and Tommy moved from their beds and dived in their arms, hugging them tightly before they tucked them both in bed, placing a gentle kiss upon their heads before they joined Wanda in their own room. “I’m sorry I never told you, I was waiting for Steve to speak with Fury and for the decision to be set in stone.”
“I don’t care about that.” Wanda whispered, resting her hands on their shoulders. “You’re going to be home, with the twins and with me, and that’s all I have ever wanted.” She leaned up and gave them a soft kiss, finally free of the gnawing feeling that something might go wrong and she might lose the love of her life.
154 notes ¡ View notes
milfswriter ¡ 1 year ago
Note
pls 🙏🏻 I gotta know rheas opinion on a size kink
Size Kink Headcannons
Rhea Ripley x reader
Summary: size kink hcs. That’s it
GODDAMMIT WOULD YOU STOP WITH THOSE GIFS 😵‍💫😩 @rhea-ripley
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Absolutely no one can tell me Rhea doesn’t have a size kink. It’s just not possible. Especially with how much muscle she’s been gaining lately. WOOF 🥵
I can’t help but imagine her being like 6’3 or 6’4 cause I’m 5’8 and I want her to look down on me.
She loved the way she towers over you, how her hand can cover your entire face. How you can’t reach the cupboards even when tip toeing while she barely has to lift an arm to open them.
The way she’d throw you around in bed like a ragdoll. Lord have mercy. And the fact that she could pin you down with one hand while the other’s fucking you into oblivion.
Oh and don’t get her started with you wearing her clothes. The way you’d drown in her hoodies and t-shirts never ceases to turn her on.
You’d never have to carry a single thing in your entire life. Why would you when you’ve got the biggest muscle mommy ever??
And let’s not mention how often you suddenly get picked up over her shoulder because you were taking too long chatting with Bayley or doing your makeup
Best. Cuddles. Ever. She’d wrap you up so good in her arms and you’re just drowning in there
Baths together 😵‍💫 the water so warm as you climb in and lean your back against her chest, her muscular arms rubbing yours up and down before going lower and lower
I could go on forever but I’d stop here for everyone’s sake ;)
Taglist:
@ara-a-bird @jungwoospeach @neganwifey25-blog @yourmisosoup @cameronsdruthers @dementedtrashcat @1c4ntg3ty0u0ffmym1nd @sweety-jamieluvss @rebecca-quin @mega-met-44 @babybatlover @potatohead2019 @charlieg1rl @marcelineormars @obsessed-with-wwe-women
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idlerin ¡ 2 years ago
Text
LOVE SICK
a suna rintarou social media au
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pairing. suna rintarou x f!reader
synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).
tags. social media au, college au, fake dating, matchmaker, romance, crack, humor, fluff! (mostly), very light angst, kind of self destructive behavior, hopeless romantic emphasis on hopeless!
warnings. time stamps are irrelevant !!, foul language (aka cursing), drinking/alcohol
status. on-going (02/15/24 —)
— playlist.
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teasers
[name]’s reading list | suna’s playlist | [name]’s in trouble !
profiles
ppl who think love sucks + [name] | inarizaki dogs
episodes !
chapter names may be subjected to change as the fic goes along.
( ❥ ) — has narrative parts
( the email )
ACT I
01. romance 101 w [l/n] [name] !
02. aren’t you like, cupid
03. absolutely insane
04. sweetest girlfriend
05. it’s all cliché and full of obvious red flags ( ❥ )
06. passion is a passing thing
07. pretty please ( ❥ )
08. we can be friends ( ❥ )
09. relationship lore
10. ur like an exothermic reaction ( ❥ )
ACT II
11. ultra galactic curse
12. for the act
13. lol didn’t think u were mine
14. attachment issues showing
15. the grumpy x sunshine trope
16. shitty romance books
17. will they/won’t they
18. i wanna want you
19. touch some grass
20. and the world stills
ACT III
21. being with you is ecstasy
22. mega ultra galactic curse
23. you hate me? so enemies to lovers?
24. dead, shattered, devastated
25. keep your eyes on me
26. i’m just a girl
27. supersonic love
tba !
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taglist is CLOSED !
to be added to the taglist you can just send in an ask or comment :)
notes. hi so this was like supposed to be posted on valentines but i got impatient and hey its still the month of love so whatever ehe will not start till i finish nonsense since i need to learn how to do stuff one at a time! but yeah super excited to make this bc i love fake dating and i love suna rintarou hohoho thank you guys sm for 400 followers i love you all <3
icons used as pfps are not mine but the content of this smau is. please do not repost this on any other platform. Š idlerin 2023
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megamindsecretlair ¡ 4 months ago
Note
Hey fren! ✌🏾
Whenever you got the time, can we get a nice little piece with Kofi, Tyrone, or Trevante (your pick lol) where him and his girl get into bad. It leads them to be mad as hell at each other to where they aren't speaking for like a day or two.
And our man finally gets tired of the tension and decides to make things up, but our girl is damn sure good at holding grudges so it takes him a leeettle bit more convincing to get her out of her feelings.
Also, no rush if you do decide to do this one! Love you babes 😘💜
A/N: I hope this hits. What can I say, the anon inspired me. Please note that this is not Mr. Black.
Don't Forget About Us
Pairing: Tre x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Established relationship. Smut, FLUFF, PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), anal play, dirty talk, cursing, all consensual.
Summary: See ask. You reached a breaking point with your boyfriend. He was constantly gone, nose buried in work making you go to bed alone and tired and lonely. After a screaming match, you both need time to cool your heels. But not for too long.
Word Count: 6,841k
AO3 Link
A/N: It's not that I lied, it's just that I failed lmfao. I hadn't had plans to release this but well, I miss himmmm. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.
Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @blackerthings @logansblackgf @henneseyhoe @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @westside-rot @prettypink-princesss @thadelightfulone @the-crystal-one @miyuhpapayuh @thecookiebratz @twocentuar @esachicaa @enchantedillumination @xo-goldengirl @tranquilfandomer @we-outsiiiide @hihellogoodbyebruh @babybratzmaraj @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @mochaaahooligan @ashleykeri @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @iv0rysoap @00aijia00 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @luckygirlszn @thecapodomme @chaos-4baby @multiversefanfics @tvchi @kittyken006 @avoidthings @makayla171
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For the first time, in a really long time, you did not want to get out of your car and walk through the front door. You didn’t want to spend another restless night worrying over your boyfriend. He was such a work-a-holic and you were tired of the arguments. 
The same old record scratch repeating over and over. You missed him like crazy. You wanted him warm and safe in your bed every night and you were sick of feeling guilty for wanting that. He would kiss you and make promises, but slowly, his word was losing its meaning. 
You groaned and dropped your head to the steering wheel. You could not stay out here for much longer. You knew that and yet your legs felt like lead weights. You couldn’t make your body move even though your mind screamed at you to move. You honestly didn’t know how much longer you could continue doing this.
You heaved another groan and finally got out of the car, the quick beep letting you know that your car was locked and armed. You walked up to the townhouse you two shared, entering through the front door. You walked inside to the lights on and music playing somewhere in the background.
You closed and locked the door, removing your jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door. You slipped out of your heels, sighing as that particular burden was removed. You followed the sound of the music to the dining room.
Your boyfriend stood there in soft black lounge pants and a black long sleeved tee to match. It molded well to his body, showing off his muscles. He smiled, instantly lighting up the entire room with that mega-watt smile of his. 
A gold chain rested against his chest and golden studs glinted in the dim lighting. He held out a glass of wine, cocking his head. “Hey baby,” he said.
You sighed, wanting to melt into his arms. Wanting to hug him and turn your brain off for the rest of the night. A surge of bitterness shot through you, coating your tongue in acid. But you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to pick a fight. Didn’t want to be that type of girlfriend. 
You smiled and grabbed the glass of wine from him and took a small sip. You felt awkward standing next to the man of your dreams and not knowing what to do. Whether or not it was okay to reach across that gap and touch him. 
You scooted past and looked at the dinner on the table. Steaming short ribs were covered in gravy, sitting next to a vegetable medley and seasoned mashed potatoes. It looked amazing and your mouth watered, momentarily forgetting that you were mad at him. 
Tre moved around you and slid your chair out. You thanked him and moved in front of it. He pushed the chair in as you sat down and then took his seat at the side of the table. He uncovered a bowl of salad, dishing some for you into the small bowl beside your plate. 
You smiled and began eating, falling into a familiar pattern. You spoke about silly things like your work and his, the crazy people there, or what your friends were currently up to. You spoke about your family and their latest shenanigans and Tre spoke about talking to his grandmother earlier. 
Safe, normal topics that didn’t disrupt the nice meal Tre prepared. You let yourself breathe for a moment, soak up the rare moment that he was home long enough to enjoy this. You laughed with him and you enjoyed seeing the little crinkle in his eyes. That devastating smile. 
You relaxed in the chair, taking a moment to appreciate the comfortable lull in the conversation. You swirled the last bit of wine in your glass on the table, watching the red liquid swirl. 
“You want some more?” Tre asked.
You smiled and shook your head. “I should probably get ready for bed, I got an early meeting,” you said. 
Tre sighed. “I get it,” he said. He looked down at your hand briefly when the shrill tone of his phone rang in the living room. 
You sucked your teeth while he cursed, grabbing his phone and looking at the caller’s name. It’d be so much easier if you thought he was cheating. That you could explain away in your mind. Men were dogs, it was what they did, blah blah blah. You would be hurt, you would get over it and move on with someone who actually loved you.
But no. You had to compete with four walls and a computer screen. You had to compete with spreadsheets and wet signatures and copy paper. How the hell did you beat something like that? Where would you even start? 
“I’m sorry, I thought I put it on silent,” he said.
“It’s fine, take it,” you said. You smiled and stood up, getting ready to clear the table. Tre placed his hand on yours, stilling your movements. You looked at him without looking into his eyes. Your eyes were focused on his lips, on the tight lipped grimace. 
“You don’t have to do that,” he said. 
“You cook, I clean. That was the deal,” you said, intentionally misunderstanding him. You pulled your arm but he didn’t budge. You sighed but refused to meet his gaze. His phone continued ringing and he cursed again, reaching out with his left hand to silence the ringing.
“Pick it up, Tre. Really, it’s fine,” you said. You yanked your arm once more and he let you go, let you bring the dishes to the kitchen. You hated doing dishes. But a deal was a deal. If you cooked, he cleaned. If he cooked, you cleaned. You packed away the remaining food, placing it in the refrigerator. You started filling the sink after plugging it, adding soap so it could bubble up.
Tre’s heavy footsteps entered the kitchen, feet tapping on the smooth tile. His massive frame took up your peripheral vision but you focused on the rising, steaming water. 
“You won’t even look at me anymore,” he said.
You choked on a laugh, not expecting that to shoot out of his mouth. You bit your lip so that you could stop, so that it wouldn’t turn into theatrics and hysterics. You swore you’d never be this type of girl. You swore and you swore. 
“You’re not here long enough for me to look at you,” you said. 
“That’s not fair, damn. I did all of this to spend time with you,” he said. 
You sighed. Feeling the oncoming headache. Was it even worth it? All you did was argue and yell around in circles. The yells like lashes against the wall. It was grating and nerve-wracking and you wanted off the struggle bus. 
But if you didn’t say anything, would anything ever change? Did you want it to? You watched the water foam and bubble up as it rose in the sink. You were leaning on the sink, feet crossed at the ankle. 
“Until the next time you need to go into the office. Or the next time your boss needs you to look at an expense report right this second, at three in the morning. Or you have this meeting or that meeting, your phone is constantly on. You might as well move into your fucking office. You never turn that shit off,” you said. 
You turned off the water, the sharp creak of the handle loud in the silent kitchen. Music still pumped in from the other room, but it was too muted to understand the lyrics. Knowing Tre, it was something sweet and sensual. Finding songs with the perfect mix of longing and need. 
You pulled on kitchen gloves when Tre’s phone rang once more. You smirked with no real humor behind it. “If you really wanted to spend time, you would have turned your phone off.” 
“This is my job, baby. This is what I get paid to do. This is how I afford all of this,” he said.
You rolled your eyes and started scrubbing the plate. You poured your frustration into getting every last stain off of the plate. Every last smear of gravy or mashed potato. “I know that! I’m not saying quit your job, I’m not saying never work. I just want you home at a decent fucking hour,” you said.
You put the clean plate on the other side of the sink so that you could rinse it off later. You started in on another plate. The action would be relaxing if you didn’t have Tre’s fucking phone going off. His boss was worse than a thirsty bitch after your man. You swore, there were some moments where you caught his boss looking at you like you were the devil herself. 
“Sometimes things come up that need my attention,” he said.
“At three in the fucking morning? What email or graph or fucking presentation is so important at three in the morning? When do you sleep? When do you rest?”
Tre growled, stepping closer to you. “It’s just for a few weeks while we try to finish up this contract. Our work on it will depend on if they’ll sign with us again,” he said.
You mentally said the words along with him. He’d said it so often, you had it committed to memory. “And what if you don’t have a few weeks? Because your body is breaking down, because you never rest, because you never chill? What then? You gonna rest when you’re dead?”
You glanced at him, at the pain in his eyes. His mouth was fixed in a grimace, eyes cold. No matter what you said, he was always going to think his way was the highway. He wasn’t going to budge. He was turning into a mountain before your eyes. You rolled your neck and continued washing off the dinner plates and wine glasses. 
“I’m trying,” he said quietly.
“No, you’re not. If you were trying, this wouldn’t be the first dinner we’ve had together –”
His phone rang and you laughed, shaking your head. What was the point? Tre cursed and picked up the phone, screaming into the phone. 
“I’m in the middle of something,” he said. He listened for a few moments, turning away from you as he continued with the conversation. You chuckled, amazed at how easy it was to sway him when it came to work. Yet you were pleading with him to do right by you.
Truly, why bother? Why fight for a relationship that he clearly didn’t want or need? You felt like you were a hindrance. Like you were in the way of him working himself into the ground. The sad part was that you just wanted him safe. And he just wanted to work. 
He was gone for about ten minutes, likely somewhere in your double home office, clicking away on his computer. You fell into a silent rhythm, washing the utensils and then rinsing off the dishes, draining the other side. 
You took off the kitchen gloves and then washed your hands. Tre re-entered the kitchen, sighing. “I’ll see you next time you decide to come home,” you said.
Tre smacked his lips. “I don’t know what else you want me to do here, baby. You said come home and I’m home. You said you wanted a home cooked meal and here it is,” he said. 
You rubbed your head. “I want you home! And that means your phone is off, your mind is not on work, and you are here with me. Otherwise–” You shrugged and shook your head, the words pushing against your tongue. Pushing you to speak. 
“Otherwise there’s no reason to be together.” You sighed, feeling like a weight had been shoved off your shoulders. You could breathe now that the words were out in the air. You couldn’t take them back. Couldn’t recall them. 
Tre’s face crumpled before he turned around, throwing his hands in the air. “What the hell? You want to break up now?” He asked and turned back to you.
“I don’t know! I’m tired and I’m mad and I don’t want to look at you right now. Go to work, stay here, I don’t care. But you’re sleeping on the couch!” You yelled. 
“Tell me if you’re trying to break up with me,” he said.
“I don’t know. You make me so mad and sad. And I’m tired!” You yelled. You brushed past him. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to a stop. You yanked your hand back. His phone rang and you turned to look at him. You looked pointedly at the phone in his hand and then at him. 
“I hope that you don’t look up five years from now, sad and alone, because you chose work over living your life,” you said. You left him in the kitchen, left him looking at you as if you’d slapped him in the face. 
Tears stung your eyes but you refused to cry. Refused to weaponize your tears to manipulate him into staying. You weren’t going to beg a man to stay. You made your desires clear, multiple times, over many arguments during the past few weeks. There were only so many times you could repeat yourself before you understood that Tre was doing this intentionally. He chose work over you and that hurt most of all. 
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Over the next few days, Tre slept on the couch while you continued to sleep in your big, cold bed. You avoided each other as much as possible, both unwilling to look each other in the eye as your words echoed in the silent halls. 
You managed to move around each other, never speaking and communicating with sighs and grunts. He was spending less and less time at work, coming home earlier and earlier. It was something. But was it enough for you? Was he only doing this because he thought he didn’t want to leave you? 
You were coming home more often to Tre already having dinner started or finished, phone nowhere to be seen. Your tempers flashed hot and burned easily, so by the fourth day, you were not surprised that Tre was leaving notes for you. Reaching out to grab your hand sometimes or looking at you with rare heat in his eyes.
That was definitely something you missed these past few weeks. He’d been too tired or too worked up to hold and caress you. To make love to you like you missed. Your previous hurt was still etched into your heart and you weren’t sure what it would take to believe this version of him. Believe that he wanted to change and this wasn’t just an act. 
You were on the couch, curled up with a smutty book. Somebody had to get laid around here. You were in the middle of a juicy part, snuggling deeper into your emerald throw blanket as the words played a movie in your head. Tre’s thick thighs entered your field of vision. 
You glanced up and was met with gray sweatpants showing a very impressive bulge. Tre at rest was already a monster to begin with. Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him. He grinned, scooting past you to sit on the couch. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, showing off plenty of tattoos that your mouth watered to trace with your tongue. 
Tre cleared his throat, taking off his glasses and man spreading by putting his feet on the table. You were already annoyed by that, but he cracked open his own book, adjusting his body to get more comfortable.
Was this motherfucker for real? A flush of heat made you grip the throw blanket tighter around your shoulders. You curled into your end of the couch, pulling your legs to sit underneath you. Your thick thighs didn’t allow you to stay in this position for long, but you hoped the building ache kept your mind off of the fact that he was being an ass. 
You focused on your book, on the heat and passion of the sex scene you were reading. But the actor you casted in your mind was quickly replaced with Tre. The female main character was swapped with you. You pictured Tre doing the same nasty things as the characters in the book. 
You sighed for the tenth time, getting hotter by each word that you read. The male main character started talking nasty, growling in the girl’s ear. Your body shivered, practically hearing Tre’s voice saying those same nasty things in your ear.
Fucker. He knew those sweatpants were dangerous. You huffed again and Tre cleared his throat. “Something the matter, baby?” He asked.
“Nope, all good,” you answered too quickly, but you didn’t care. You were having an entire crisis where you sat while he sat there so peacefully. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye to see the hint of a smirk on his lips. 
You loved a well-read man. You knew that he truly was reading and he also knew that it further turned you on. You huffed and adjusted yourself on the couch, moving your legs to the side of you. It relieved the burning ache in your thighs and calves and you hummed in relief.
You narrowed your eyes, determined to re-cast the characters in your mind. But instantly, your mind was creating an entire scene in your head. This was ridiculous. You weren’t going to be subject to this torture, not while Tre refused to apologize.
You stood up and let the couch throw blanket fall from your shoulders. Cold air hit your skin and you wanted to sigh in relief again, but you refused. You smiled at him and he smiled sweetly at you. “Goodnight baby,” he said.
You knew his back hurt from sleeping on the couch but you refused to be the first one to budge in this matter. He needed to do this because he wanted to and not because of some game between you. Though, it looked like he was winning so far. 
You trudged up the stairs, intent on going straight to sleep. You laid down in the dark, thoughts of Tre blowing your back out lulling you to sleep.
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Tre became unbearable. He was always catching you at the wrong moment, leaving you flustered and like he was inflicting ten plus psychic damage to your kitty. It was well on its way to purring every time he walked into the room wearing a combination that made your head spin. 
First it was the gray sweatpants. Then he came home drenched in sweat, wearing compression shorts underneath his basketball shorts. He had a small white towel tucked in the waistband of his pants and you wanted to tug it down further so that you could see his Adonis belt.
If that wasn’t enough, you were trying to ignore that he was in the shower while you were laying in bed. He yelled for you to help grab him a towel because he forgot his. When you passed the soft towel to him through the door, you saw his reflection in the mirror. He winked at you as your eyes traveled down, down, down and then you shrieked and backed away. You felt insane for peeping on your own boyfriend, but his ass was well rounded, sculpted, muscles jumping. 
You fanned yourself thinking of it. You had to get him back. Had to start playing dirty yourself. You went deep into your closet, pulling out the skimpy lounge wear. The too tiny shorts, the lady boxers, the oversized T-shirts. 
You walked into the kitchen one Saturday morning, surprised to find him drinking coffee at the rounded dining room table. He had a newspaper in his hand, glasses on but he was looking over the rim. Now he was just being dramatic. 
You sauntered into the kitchen, wearing a purple oversized T-shirt, the kind that rode up whenever you leaned over. You did such a thing, reaching up for the mugs at the higher shelf. Tre moved them some time ago, telling you he did it on purpose so you’d ask for his help. 
“Need help, baby?” Tre asked, his voice gruff.
“No, thank you, baby. I got it,” you said. You managed to snag a mug without it falling on your head and then started the coffee machine. It hissed and roared to life, and you went around the kitchen, opening cabinets and closing them. 
Tre cleared his throat. “Are you looking for something?” He asked.
“I’m trying to decide if I want to move things around in here. Or get rid of what we aren’t using. What do you think?” You asked. You lifted on your tiptoes, looking into the spice cabinet. 
“Whatever you think is best, baby,” he said. He cleared his throat again and you looked at him over your shoulder. 
“Are you okay, baby? Do you need something for that throat?” You asked.
“No, ma’am,” he said and flicked the newspaper, returning his attention to it. You moved to grab your coffee, doctoring it up how you liked. Then, you sat at the table with him and crossed your legs, in plain view. Tre watched your movements covertly, a smirk playing about his lips. 
You smirked back. It carried on like this for another week, tension so thick in the house that you could cut it with a knife. He teased you mercilessly with things you’d told him were sexy on him. His loungewear or his jeans. The way he manspread all over the couch. 
You continued to tease him, parading around in your bonnets and pajamas, short shorts, and leggings. You’d caught him staring a few times, biting his lip and that noticeable bulge getting thicker and thicker. 
You were at your wit’s end by the time the following weekend rolled around. He had been consistently coming home, spending more time around the house doing things for himself. Getting back into his vinyl records, playing the odd game, or doing a few pushups and crunches on the floor of your home gym. 
You were in the laundry room, pulling warm clothes out of the dryer and placing it in a wooden basket, when Tre cornered you in the room. He blocked you from leaving and bit his lip, looking you up and down. You weren’t wearing anything revealing, just some gray joggers and a tank top. He looked at you like he could see you naked beneath it. 
Tre hummed and walked into the room, making you back away with a smirk on your face. “You think you’re slick,” he said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, all sugary sweet and innocent. You adjusted the laundry basket on your hip and continued backing away until your butt hit the countertop. 
The marble surface was smooth and cold on your butt, providing some relief to the raging heat burning through you. Tre leaned in, smelling heavenly. Like green sage and sandalwood. He gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer and pressing a feather light kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
“You’re driving me crazy, please forgive me,” he whispered.
You were tempted. Tempted worse than a kid facing down two cookies if he waited and didn’t eat the first one. You took a deep inhale of his scent, bringing your nose closer to his neck. His thick beard tickled your cheeks but you kept going, wanting to crawl into his skin. 
“Are you going to take me seriously?” You asked.
He groaned, stepping closer. “Haven’t I shown you that I have?” He asked.
“But how do I know that you won’t go running the next time your phone rings?” You asked. 
He sighed, nudging your jaw with his nose. He inhaled your scent as well, breathing in the tropical, fruity lotion you wore. His breath fanned across your overheated skin. Your knees were weak, wobbly, and you were struggling to stay upright. 
As if you summoned the damn thing, his phone rang in his pocket. Your smile dropped, body cooling. You smiled at him, hoping he didn’t see the hurt on your face. “Duty calls,” you sang.
You pushed against his body and he stepped back with a sigh and a frown. You avoided looking at his eyes, walking out of the laundry room. The air had turned stifling in the laundry room but now you had room to breathe. For your heart to calm down. 
You went into the bedroom, wanting to sit on the bed while you folded laundry. But the soft click of the door made you turn around to see Tre. He turned his pockets inside out, showing you that there was no phone. He turned in a slow circle, lifting his shirt, and you got a great view of the curve of his ass and his back. 
He held out his arms. “Phone’s off,” he said, sounding pleased as punch.
You held onto the laundry basket, using it as a barrier. You’d need it. Because if you gave in, if you let your libido speak for you, you were getting pregnant that damn night. After nearly two weeks of teasing and edging, you were ready to combust. Ready to explode. Your fingers curled around the stiff wood of the basket and you smirked.
“Cute,” you said.
He smiled. He stepped forward slowly, looking at you with that cute, mischievous smile on his face. “Forgive me,” he said.
You tilted your head. “Why should I?” You asked. Maybe you could pick a fight and keep him at bay. Keep that fire out of his eyes. He had to stop looking at you like that. Had to stop keeping one hundred percent of his focus on you.
“Because I heard you, baby. I don’t want to wake up five years from now, alone and watching my life pass me by. I want to build with you, grow with you, and show you that I am listening. I will do better because I know that I want you here, home, with me,” he said. 
Was it possible to get pregnant with just a few words? There was a strange twinge in your belly that told you it just might be possible. You wanted to melt into a puddle and grin like a loon. 
“Pretty words,” you said, some part of you enjoying poking him. He was unfazed. He put his hands on the laundry basket. When had he gotten so close? 
He smiled as he gently tugged it from your hands. You stepped forward, not wanting to get rid of your last remaining barrier. That last bit of resistance. You didn’t want to believe this. Didn’t want to get comfortable with it only for him to fall into old patterns and leave you looking like Bozo the clown. 
However, with him looking into your eyes and the way you’d been on edge the past few days, your arms started to slacken. If you didn’t find relief soon, the type of relief only he could give, the next time you brushed against a table you were going to cum on the spot. 
Tre tugged the basket from your hands and placed it on the ottoman at the end of the bed. He invaded your personal space, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “What is it gonna take for you to forgive me?” He asked.
You looked towards the ceiling. You were on fire. You were in shambles. You were not okay with his proximity. It took everything in you not to jump his bones. But you were always folding first. It was time for him to grovel a smidgen.
“I’d have to know that you’re really, really sorry,” you said. You smiled, grabbing his hands and leading him to the bed. He raised an eyebrow, smiling and following you. The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed and you sat down. 
You were eye level with his bulge, growing thicker by the second. He was back in heather gray sweatpants, dick print protruding through the fabric. 
“How can I show that?” He asked, a light teasing in his voice.
You laid back on the bed with a self-indulgent smile. “Ravish me until I say otherwise.” you said.
Tre chuckled, leaning over the bed so that he could start tugging on your joggers and panties. He pulled it off of your legs in one quick snap and you shrieked from the rough action. Perhaps you weren’t the only one at your limit. Ready to snap. 
Tre dropped to his knees, licking his lips as he caught a glimpse of your gleaming pussy. He smoothed his hands on your thighs, nudging them apart. He hummed, getting his first full look in a month and a half. Your pussy throbbed from the look in his eyes. 
His thumbs dug into your meaty thighs, finding pressure points that made your teeth instantly chatter. He leaned forward, taking a deep breath, inhaling your scent. He sighed with his mouth open, air fanning across your damp pussy. Had you known that you were gonna have sex today, you might have cleaned up a little. Freshened up better. 
But Tre had no reservation as he kissed your thighs. Kissed the side of your knees. He moved your thighs over his shoulders, rubbing his nose in your essence. You sighed with a light moan, closing your eyes. This was it. You were going to go off like a bottle rocket any moment. 
“Baby, I want you to know that I am so, very, very sorry. I made you feel alone and I never wanted to treat you that way,” he whispered to your pussy. You almost felt like an intruder. You peeked at him over your belly and saw his eyes completely focused on the center of you. 
His tongue darted out and licked up the slit of your center and you hissed, leaning away from him. With his hands wrapped around your thighs, you had nowhere to go. He successfully immobilized you as he continued to slowly coax you open. Your slick dripped down your pussy and you moaned, thighs tingling. 
“Fuck,” you moaned. Unable to stand it. He had to go faster. Had to get you off as soon as possible. Couldn’t he tell that you were dying over here? 
“I will never, ever, ever, abandon you like that again. You are what is most important to me. I will make sure you know that every day,” he said. He followed up his words with licks and groans, slurping on your essence. Your moans turned into desperate whimpers. 
“Every, single, day,” he said, punctuating every word with a lick to your clit. His lush lips latched on and began to suck, wringing desperate cries from you. Pressure built in your tummy, building and building, going higher and higher, until white light flashed behind your eyes as you came on his tongue.
He moaned, continuing to eat you out through it. You were sensitive as hell, twitching with every new lick, every new moan, every new suckle. But it felt so good, that you were heading into another orgasm. Or it could be prolonged from the first. You weren’t sure as you thrashed your head back and forth, upper body twisting on the bed.
You pushed at his head, tiny cries and whimpers. Tre kept going, grabbing your hands and pinning them to the bed. You whined, moving your hips. But you only managed to move your pussy against his face, his beard tickling your pussy and thighs. 
“Please, baby, please, baby, please,” you chanted.
“Cum f’me one more time,” he groaned. He increased his efforts, abusing your poor little clit. The sensitive bud was driving you insane but you continued to beg for more. You screamed into the room, releasing another orgasm. Tre’s satisfied hum vibrated against your pussy as he licked you until you came back down.
He pulled away from your pussy, long spit chain still connected you two. Your body was on fire, damp with sweat, as you panted and huffed from such intense orgasms back to back. 
“Look at you, All nice and creamy. All wet and ripping. You making a fuckin’ mess,” he murmured. His voice was rough, deep, sending shivers up and down your spine. 
Your pussy clenched and clenched around nothing. You didn’t know if you had another in you, but you were struggling against his hold. You needed him inside you right fucking now. You looked at Tre as he still glanced at your pussy. His beard was shiny with your mess. He finally let you go, wiping more of your juices into his beard, getting it nice and coated. It grew rough in the weeks he wasn’t worshiping your throbbing hole. 
Tre stood up, rubbing the bulge over his pants. You sat up, licking his stomach and then looking up at him. He grinned at you. You grinned back and then bit his stomach, grabbing a big bite without clamping down. Tre chuckled, stomach jostling in your mouth. You released him and smiled.
You tugged his pants down, freeing his long glorious dick. Slightly curved, you missed his dick. You kissed the tip, unable to resist being apart for too long. You looked up at him and then opened your mouth.
Tre chuckled, grabbed the base of his shaft and tapping it against your tongue. He rolled his hips, rubbing his thick head against your tongue. He groaned, throwing his head back for a brief moment. 
“You forgive me, baby?” He asked. He coated your lips with his precum and then slipped back inside your mouth.
“I’m getting there,” you groaned around his dick. It sounded a bit muffled but Tre laughed so he must have heard you. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, looking at you like you hung the moon. 
It sent a wave of feel good chemicals flooding your system and you closed your mouth around his dick. Tre hissed, pulling out of your mouth. He stroked back inside, holding your face while he face fucked you.
You relaxed your throat and mouth, letting him use you exactly how you needed. You moaned at the salty taste of his precum hitting your tongue. You swallowed what you could, trying to re-learn the shape and feel of his dick. The curve made him accidentally poke your cheek and you looked up at him.
Tre moaned, sighing with a quick, rushed, “fuck.” He continued stroking, taking what he needed from your mouth. You slobbered and slurped on him, getting his dick nice and wet. He slipped out of you suddenly and you whined, looking at him. 
“I wanna cum in that tight, dripping pussy, baby. On them knees,” he said and licked his lip. The gold chain around his neck twinkled from the overhead light. You grinned, getting off of the bed.
You stood up and turned around. Before you kneeled on the bed, Tre stopped you and lifted your tank top off of your shoulders. You lifted your arms and let him pull it off of you. You smiled over your shoulder while Tre kissed your neck. You moaned, tilting your head so he had more access.
His fingers came around your chest, fondling your breasts and pinching your nipples. You moaned, desperate tinny cries. He stepped forward, making you bend over the bed.
You climbed on, bending your knees and sticking your ass in the air. Tre hummed, running his hands over your ass. He squeezed and kneaded, putting you at ease and making you respond to his humming. 
He placed two quick kisses to the globes of your ass, following it up with love bites. “Hey!” You said.
Tre chuckled. “Missed your cute ass. Forgiven me yet, woman? I’m trynna love on you,” he said. 
“I don’t know. I think better with dick inside me,” you said. The air whooshed from your lungs as Tre shoved in, leaving you no room to prepare. You screeched, falling forward onto your face. 
Tre hummed with deep relief, like stepping into a jacuzzi after a long day. You shrieked and shivered, feeling stretched out to the max. Fuck. You forgot how big he was. How deeply and completely he filled you up. 
“Thinking more clearly, baby?” He asked, his voice full of teasing. You could hear the smile in his voice. Fucker. 
You drew in deep breaths, getting acclimated to his size. You got onto your elbows and then stretched your back, giving you a better arch. Tre groaned, pulling back and then slamming back in.
“Fuck,” you choked out.
He repeated the motion, pulling out to the tip and then slamming back in. Your ass smacked loudly against his thighs, wet slaps echoing in the room. 
“Gon’ answer me?” He asked. 
“Fuck, yes, I’m thinking more clearly,” you whined. Your mind was clear. Fuck whatever he did, he just needed to keep stroking into you just as he was doing.
He made it worse. He started increasing his pace, slamming you back on his dick in quick, hard thrusts that shook your whole body with the force of it. You choked on your whines and moans, choked on his dick spearing you from the inside out. 
You creamed on his dick and he moaned. “Goddamn, you feeling so good. So nice and wet, baby. You hear that?” He asked.
You nodded, but eventually let out a squeaky, “yes.” Yes, you heard your pussy sucking him down greedily. Yes, you heard the evidence of your arousal. He made you cum so many times already, but you were building towards another one. 
“Hmm, I feel you clutching this dick. Show me what’s yours, baby,” he groaned. His voice was rough with his arousal, deep with his lust. He stroked so deep, hitting all your good spots. 
He grunted and smacked your ass, gathering some of your slick with his fingers playing with your clit. You cried out and jerked forward, interrupting the rhythm. Tre removed his fingers, picking up the pace once more. Then he brought those wet fingers to your ass, rubbing his thumb around your tight, puckered hole. Your teeth chattered as he continued to push inward, push past that bit of resistance.
Now, you really felt full. “Oh, baby, fuck, please,” you cried out. 
“Be a good little girl and cum on this dick,” he growled.
“Shit,” you whispered as you did just that, flooding his dick with fresh slick. He slipped more easily inside of you, grunting as you clenched around his throbbing dick. He moaned, increasing his strokes until he was soon following after.
His hot cum shot inside of you, painting your creamy walls with his cum. Your back bowed and he wiggled his thumb in your ass. Drool leaked from your lips as you came down from your climax.
Tre slowed his movements, pumping the last of it inside of you. He stilled his hips, kept you plugged up with his dick. You shivered and twitched on him, completely spent and out of breath. He kissed down your spine, rubbing your back. You groaned. Somehow, he zeroed in on your problem areas, the parts of your back that ached and ached all the time. 
“Baby? You forgive me?” He asked.
You whimpered. He expected you to talk after something like that? You needed at least two days to recover. 
“I forgive you, baby. Just…please don’t do that again,” you said, your voice small. Tre stilled with his lips against your back. He nodded once and then nodded again like he was confirming for himself as well. 
“I won’t. I’ll be right here with you,” he promised. He softened inside of you and slowly slipped out. You groaned. Tre spread your asscheeks and watched his cum slowly glide out of your pussy.
He cursed softly. “Need to do this more often, you made such a mess,” he said.
You chuckled. You were a limp noodle at the moment. You were unable to move a muscle. Not a single twitch. Tre kissed your cheek, smacking your ass lightly while he went to grab a washcloth. He cleaned you off and then got onto the bed with you.
He pulled you into the crook of his arm, snuggling against your back. Your ass wiggled against his dick.
“Behave,” he grunted. He pulled you as far as you were able to go and wrapped his strong arms around you. You stayed in bed for the rest of the day, talking and laughing, and enjoying each other like you used to do.
You only left the bed long enough to get food, laughing your way back to each other. Renewing your commitment to each other with every smile, every joke, and every twinkle in your eyes.
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There's more Tre to love! The Secret Tre Files
182 notes ¡ View notes
tojiwrd ¡ 1 year ago
Text
1: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru
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pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.
warnings not much tbh,, just swearing, satoru being an ass, mention of family death, family drama, bad parents, and breakups, not proofread
word count 3k
a/n made a new account because the gojo brainrot is so deep i wanted to start a multichap, mega-angst fic lol
send requests next ↠ to be added to taglist
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You stood under the silver luminescence of a crescent moon on your balcony, fingers curled around the neck of a wine glass that’s contents were dissolving into your bloodstream a lot slower than you wished. You didn’t expect anyone to walk through the looming windows behind you and condemn you for disappearing from the meeting because—in your mind—you’d done everything that was expected of you: sit there, look pretty, and occasionally nod your head whenever your mother speaks and voices her opinion.
It was rather funny, though, because your mother had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. When your father decided to kick the bucket seven months ago, he’d left your mother dealing with the remnants of his problems he wasn’t able to solve in his lifetime. Yesterday, your mother had to finally meet with the stockbroker as her grieving period was officially over and today, your father’s advisor advised her to have the meeting with the Gojo family your father set up before his death. 
You had assumed it was niceties, a sense of normalcy after losing a bigshot businessman between two powerful families. You were wrong. Twenty-seven minutes into the dinner, Gojo Takayashi throws his wine glass against the wall, staining the clean sheen of white paint a horrifying shade of crimson that looked like what the walls would truly be painted with were this dinner not to go the man’s way. 
“I need this company back,” he’d said, a lilt of rage coating his voice as he did his very best to not do something that would warrant him being kicked out. His wife, Aya, merely looked down to scan her manicured nails and took a large gulp of her wine, then sneakily took a sip from her flask (that obviously contained something much stronger) you’d caught a glimpse of. 
You’d pursed your lips, a melancholic sigh leaving your lips as you inspected the damage on the wall. Knowing your mother, she’d have somebody come in by tonight to fix it. 
“And you can have it back, as I told you.” Your mother evidently rolled her eyes as she replied to the man, jaw gritted. 
“I am not emptying my entire wallet to buy my own company!”
Your mother, much to the eldest Gojo's ire, let his statement simmer and marinate in the inexplicably thick air of tension and continued chewing down the last bit of her food. 
Nobody dared to talk, even your grandmother who stuck to clicking her heels against the linoleum floors. You’d decided to skip out on dessert, creating some measly excuse of a stomach ache that nobody believed but didn’t deign to respond to. You didn’t think you could get away with both families not noticing the tension between you and the Gojo’s youngest, but the elders truly gave you a run for your money because you went almost the entirety of dinner without having to speak to Satoru. Keyword being almost. 
You couldn’t be childish and spill the red wine over his obnoxious, perfect-fitting white shirt like his father spilled over your walls because that would most likely start the next war were his family to see such blatant disrespect. But, when you felt his presence behind you in the balcony, you knew you had free reign and you could, in fact, be childish. 
“Hey.” His voice was soft, so soft that you almost forgot how the last time he’d spoken to you his voice had run through and sliced your chest like a knife. “Dinner’s over so—”
You cut him off and said, “Then go home, Gojo.”
Not Satoru. Not ‘Toru. Just Gojo. You were sure he couldn’t be the tiniest bit affected by the subtle (glaringly obvious) jab, but it felt good for more than a millisecond to reclaim some thin shreds of your dignity. You wanted to crane your neck to gaze at his reaction, to see if there was a reaction in the first place but you knew if you looked back, he’d be the one seeing a crochet of emotions weaving over yours. 
“You look good, Y/N,” he said, completely ignoring your disinterest in the conversation. Of course, you looked good. You knew that. But why did he have to say it? 
“Can’t say the same for you.” Lie. You intended to have more bite in the words, but they came out almost emotionless.
You looked down at your waist as you heard him shuffle behind you and his hands reached out to clutch at the metal railing in front of you, arms almost brushing against your waist. His fingers curled, and it gave you a chance to see the ring on his finger. You took in a shuddered breath as the sandalwood and slightly musky scent of his cologne snaked their way to your nostrils, entirely taking you back to the times when you fell asleep to that scent and had it floating around you nearly all the time. You hated him. You hated him because the way he let out a small, barely audible chuckle at your inhale, you knew that he knew exactly what was going through your mind. 
“I just—I want to talk about everything, Y/N.”
When Gojo Satoru broke up with you, it wasn’t poetic nor was it something for the movies. 
When Gojo Satoru broke up with you, you couldn’t respond with prettily crafted words to make him reconsider or, in fact, respond at all. Your friends always told you that you had a way with words, and you believed you did, too, because you were hardly ever afraid of speaking your mind. However, when Gojo Satoru broke up with you, your mind most likely short-circuited because all you did was stare at the deep sea you were sure resided within his eyes. 
His voice was unwavering, or maybe it wavered and you were simply too gone to notice it, when he said, “I think we moved too fast, Y/N. I don’t think I’m ready to be tied down for life, honestly.” 
When he opened with words as hard-hitting as those, how could he have given you any more closure? What could you have asked him to make him stay? He was the one who got down on one knee in the rooftop restaurant he’d rented out for the night and gave you a perfectly mesmerizing speech before he pulled out a maroon velvet box. He was the one who assured you that both your families would be okay with this—that they’d finally accept your relationship as a genuine one instead of as a fling between two twenty-something-year-olds who have nothing better to do with their time. 
You thought about how ecstatic your father would’ve been once he realized his little princess was getting married. Your mother would probably squeal in excitement before running herself ragged with the wedding preparations. You weren’t sure about his parents, though. Your families always had a moderately decent relationship, decent enough that Satoru’s father signed over their shared ownership of their company to hers after the Satoru’s began being involved in legal issues that threatened the company’s image. But you did know that despite the companionship, Satoru’s parents were difficult. They were sheltered people that knew nothing of how to treat their kid except what they’d learned from their own parents, and that was why Satoru hardly ever let himself feel too much over their words and demands. It didn’t cut deep for him because he knew they didn’t know any better.
All of that didn’t matter anymore, though, because Satoru had asked for the family heirloom engagement ring back with shaky, hesitating hands. You wanted to laugh and cry because he’d said, “I don’t want my parents to notice it’s missing, just in case they check.
How were you meant to know that after three months, you’d be hearing from Suguru that Satoru was engaged to Kimura Hana and she was wearing that wedding ring?
Suguru didn’t blame you when you got the idea that he broke it off with you because he wanted to marry her—docile, do-no-wrong Hana that you weren’t even aware he’d met—and he let you go along with that idea. You tore apart the rhinestone-studded invitation that your mother handed to you, a sad look gleaming in her eyes when your teeth dug into your lip at the sight. You cleaned up the strayed pink jewels that fell off from the thick paper and threw them in the trash, though you kept finding several of them in every nook and cranny of your room for the next month. 
It was a horrid feeling, seeing the heavy cursive inviting you to the wedding of Gojo Satoru and Kimura Hana. Inviting you, your name in just a small font at the top when it should’ve been next to his. In the middle. 
You called him a week after receiving the invitation, words you should’ve spoken in the car heavy on your tongue waiting to be let out. 
“Hey!” You’d heard the chipper, upbeat voice of a woman through the speaker of your phone and your fingers loosened their grip enough that it fell onto your blanket with a soft thud. “Who is this?” 
“Hana?” Him. His voice. It was hardly close enough for you to fully make out it was him speaking, but you’d heard the lilt of his voice you’d memorized over three years and it would’ve been difficult not to recognise it. “Who is it?”
She hummed, as though she forgot you were still on the line. “I don’t know, it’s an unknown number.”
You heard him scramble for the phone, and heard when it pulled away from her ears. “I told you not to pick up calls from—”
The line went dead, and it seemed as though a part of you died with it, too.
Maybe it was silly that what hurt the most out of everything—even hearing the girl who he’d picked’s voice—was the fact that he deleted your number. It wasn’t news that Satoru had found somebody else, but to know that he had erased nearly every fragment of his life from yours when the movie ticket of your first date was hung safely on the corkboard above your desk hurt. You were still finding pieces of his wedding invitation in the parts of your room the housekeeper hadn’t reached, and he didn’t even have any trace of you left on his phone. 
When you went on your second date, he showed you the list of his contacts on his phone to prove he only had a small list of twenty-eight numbers saved. He told you he only kept the phone numbers of people who mattered. At that moment, it was funny that he’d said the words, verbatim, “I only keep phone numbers that matter to me.” It was also a warming feeling when you noticed your name amongst them. 
Two months into your relationship, he’d told you in the midst of conversation that he saved your best friend, Reina’s number because he felt it was important. 
And now… 
Well, you couldn’t do anything. You felt as though him saying he didn’t want to be tied down was enough closure for you to come to terms with it. It made sense, too, in a twisted way that did hurt you because commitment wasn’t easy for many people and Satoru had fallen prey to that mentality. What you couldn’t come to terms with was how he’d gotten engaged three months after your breakup. And now, she was picking up calls for him and asking you who you were when you were one of the few people that reached his phone. 
It hadn’t made sense, not one bit. But you only had the tattered bits of dignity left in you to not make yourself seem weak in front of the person who’d given you the carpet to be vulnerable upon then abruptly snatched it from under your feet. Even if you wanted to. 
You were sure the wedding was a gorgeous, over-the-top, once in a lifetime procession. That was one of the many reasons that you didn’t go: it was once in a lifetime. And although people remarry very often around the world, they only have one first wedding. One first kiss as a wedded person. One first night of married bliss. You didn’t want to think that Satoru and Hana would separate because that was, in every way, a devilish thing for someone to even imagine but you were assured by your friends that it was completely valid for you to want him to hurt after what he did.
You didn’t grow the guts to tell them it was because you wished it would be you who he remarried. 
If you couldn’t be his first, you weren’t sure you wouldn’t settle for being his second. 
Satoru’s father went to prison not long after the wedding and that, finally, cut off nearly every form of companionship between your family and theirs. Your father had begun talking down on his father’s name after that, and you weren’t sure why and you didn’t ask because you couldn’t stomach speaking of anybody related to Satoru. Every trace of Satoru’s name vanished from your household, and you believed that was destiny’s way of offering you a chance to start anew because Satoru had. With Hana.
“We should meet Suguru soon,” Reina had said, and you knew she was right. You’d cut off contact with Suguru, albeit slowly and subtly enough that he forlornly caught onto the hints and crept out the door of your life completely. But that didn’t mean it was closed; neither of you held bad blood for one another, and you knew that he understood. 
You declined, wanting to live in the prolonged moment of life that had nothing to do with Satoru. 
The next, and only time, you’d seen Satoru in person was a completely miscalculated and chance encounter even the most highly-regarded fortune teller couldn’t have predicted. You had been in the bathroom of the club you, Reina, and your other friends went to nearly every weekend, when you heard a small squeal of recognition coming from the door next to the sinks. You didn’t need to do anything and were merely waiting for Reina to finish using the bathroom while you reapplied your lipgloss. 
“I know you! You’re Y/N from the… L/N family? My husband’s father works with yours.”
You craned your neck to the side, and were met with a delightfully sweet smile coming from one of the largest banes of your existence. 
You gave her a short, curt, once-over before you met her eyes and forced yourself to reply. “Yeah, and you are?”
She looked a bit shaken at your indifference and lack of recognition. You could only imagine how awkward she felt after deigning you with a bubbly greeting. “I’m—well, I’m Gojo Hana now, I guess.” She giggled, though the humor was hardly there behind it. It seemed as though she was scraping any and every corner to lessen the tension of the interaction. You didn’t care, though, because your mind was reeling at the idea that his wife didn’t even know you and Satoru dated for three years.
“Are you fucking—are you serious?” Reina appeared next to you, and you hadn’t even noticed the click of her heels as she’d walked out of the stall. You reached out a hand and placed it on her forearm to stop her from asking the question that was lingering in your mind, too. “Your husband only tell you that their fathers work together?”
You gritted your teeth. “They don’t work together, actually, since Mr. Takayashi is…”
In prison, the words went unsaid but were still communicated through the neon haze of the bathroom lights. 
“Well, that’s all I know. I’m sorry?” You almost felt bad for Hana because she was clearly clueless. A part of you wanted to mock her, say that he was mine first. But she could instantly rebut that by saying, he’s mine now. And you would lose that pissing contest. So, you kept your mouth shut. 
“Alright, sweetie,” Reina responded, giving her a wide berth, catching a hint of your thoughts and turning around to wash her hands. 
You blinked. “It was nice meeting you,” you said with no sweetness and kindness she offered you. 
Hana took that as her cue and mumbled it back before she scurried off to leave, completely forgetting why she had to go to the bathroom in the first place. 
“Man, she’s something.” Reina whistled through her teeth once the sound of the door shutting reverberated off the walls. 
“Isn’t that right,” you murmured, attempting to hold yourself from letting your thoughts drift into ones that could get your mind racing at 200 miles per hour. “Never thought I’d have to see her, though.”
When you and Reina walked out of the bathroom and sat down at the table with some of your friends—the others presumably on the dance floor—you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to find Hana in the crowd. And you immediately regretted it when you did, because she was at the bar, tucked between a pair of jean-clad thighs you knew all too well. She seemed to be speaking to Satoru, and a hand reached back to the nape of his neck as he hung onto every word she spoke and you felt your stomach twist into small, ugly knots at the sight. His neck turned around instantly, and his eyes immediately found yours, and you attempted to look away. You really, really wanted to. But that was the first time he’d looked at you in a year and three months.
Your throat clogged up, and though he was far away under the dimmed red lights shining from the large, obnoxious signs near the bottles, you itched to speak to him. His shiny white hair was a soft shade of crimson under the lights—you’d always point it out to him, how his hair looked exactly a solid color whenever he was underneath a shaded light. 
His lips curled slightly when he looked at you and his nose scrunched up into what you assumed was anger for treating his wife with such animosity. But the small moment of staring at what once could’ve been—at what once was—ended when he blinked and turned to meet her eyes again, and a healed fragment of your heart cracked again.
689 notes ¡ View notes
alonetimelover ¡ 1 year ago
Note
hiii i love your work so much, you're an amazing writer.
can i request a (LONG) instagram au where both the reader and harry are mega popstars and have been together for almost a decade, and now they're married & have a fam together. js overall domestic fluff lol.
thanks
pairing: Harry x popstar!reader
fc: Taylor Swift
a/n: i thank the internet for all the edits of those two together, it definitely helped me finding perfect photos for the story!
masterlist taglist
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2013
onedirectionupdates
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liked by harrysgirly and 23 393 others
onedirectionupdates You guys remember those rumours that Harry and YN had a thing back in 2012? Well, I think those rumours weren't so farfetched... What do you think?
view all 901 comments
harrysgirly no way! i thought all of you were lying back then!
user93 her? really?
user34 woah, i mean, woah
user56 i need to give her that... she looks stunning
ynupdates Well I don't blame Harry!
user102 i can see that, i can see the vision here
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2014
harryupdates
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liked by ynupdates and 34 493 others
harryupdates Harry and YN were seen enjoying a walk in New York!
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ynupdates right after 1989 dropped????? they're insane
harrysgirly WHAT? i thought it was like a one party thing?
user45 what's going on?
user50 what the hell?
user46 James Dean is that you?
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2015
ynupdates
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liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 56 402 others
ynupdates YN and Harry were seen walking hand in hand to YN's party, celebrating the success of Style's Music Video!
view all 2 302 comments
hArrysbtch YOU'VE GOT THAT JAMES DEAN DAYDREAM LOOK IN YOUR EYES
⤡ ynsmybestie AND I'VE GOT THAT RED LIP CLASSIC THING THAT YOU LIKE
harryupdates woah, that's certainly the way to show that the rumours were true
harrysmylife HAND IN HAND? WTF
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harrysleaks
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liked by hArrysbtch, ynsmymama and 76 403 others
harrysleaks Harry and YN back in February!
view all 3 101 comments
hArrysbtch YOU TOOK A POLAROID OF US
⤡ ynsmybestie it's shame that the polaroid is in black and white... iykwim
ynsmymama i can't take it... they look too good together
harrysmylife couples where both people are this beautiful shouldn't be allowed! im protesting! leave some good genes for us!
user45 they're really dating, aren't they?
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2017
harryupdates
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liked by ynupdates, hArrysbtch and 87 594 others
harryupdates Harry and YN were seen attending the after party for Dunkirk premiere in London!
view all 2 839 comments
ynupdates THE MOTHER IS BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER
ynupdates that's not what i call a soft launching but I LOVE IT
ynsmymama SHE IS BACK !!!! I REPEAT: SHE. IS. BACK. HALLELUJAH. I LOVE MY LIVE NOW
hArrysbtch who is this guy? where is my mysterious man?
harrysmylife seeing that he shows up in public only few times a year, i can say he's still mysterious
ynsmybestie she looks good, like good good, super good
user45 i love all those photos, one every year, showing up and making people loose their shit (mine included)
user23 she looks somehow different, but i can't pinpoint what is it
⤡ user45 she's glowing, that's for sure
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2018
ynupdates
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liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 98 392 others
ynupdates someone's getting fired... YN and Harry after Harry's latest interview with BBC Radio 1, where he was asked about YN and denied WITH A SMIRK ON HIS FACE about dating her! they enjoy messing with us!
view all 3 327 comments
harryupdates 'well, i was two times at the hospital. when i was born and after an accident' YEAH, AND HOW MANY STITCHES DID YOU GET? 'i had like 20 stitches on me!'
harrysbtch they're matching outfits! they cute! they parents! they they they...
⤡ harrysmylife guys, she's broken
ynsmybestie she's so georgous
ynsmymama i need music from them both
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harryupdates
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liked by ynupdates, hArrysbtch and 103 482 others
harryupdates Harry and YN for The Times!!! harry gave an interview that is going to be available in a few days!
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ynupdates yeah
ynupdates im not breathing
ynsmymama shit's got real
hArrysbtch DID YOU GUYS SEE THAT THE INTERVIEW IS TITLED TWO GHOSTS????? like, we were speculating about it and i think we were fucking right!
user45 the way that he's all sexy and intimidating and she's a cinnamon roll is hilarious!
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2019
yourbestfriend
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liked by yourinstagram, harrystyles and 358 493 others
yourbestfriend LOVER
view all 76 392 comments
yourinstagram shhhh, it was a secret
harrystyles Who's that fine fella behind that exquisite woman?
⤡ yourbestfriend it's been years and you're still like a lovesick puppy teenager! how?
⤡ harrystyles Well, I am still young.
harryupdates woah, that, that second photo is definitely something
hArrybtch harry, i'll do anything when you're looking at me like that
ynsmybestie what does lover mean?
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harryupdates
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liked by ynupdates, hArrysbtch and 65 493 others
harryupdates HARRY and YN in the photo added to the Fine Line vinyl! Apparently this photo was only in a few of the editions together with Harry's autograph.
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ynupdates YN's rocking the shorter hair with Harry rocking the longer curls
ynsmybestie they both look stunning
ynsmymama i still can't comprehend him releasing the album on her birthday and dedicating it to her... AHHHHHHHH
hArrysbtch screaming, crying throwing up
harrysmoustache the rings, the floral shirt, long curls, the necklace
harrysmylife is it odd to say that i am a slut for this man? man, i am down bad, like real bad
stylesmybabie crying, i love them so much
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2020
ynandharry
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liked by harryupdates, ynupdates and 54 492 others
ynandharry GUYS !!!!!!! my make a wish came true! i was on a zoom call with harry and yn today!
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harryupdates that's amazing! i know you waited so long for them to actually accept you for the program!
ynupdates they look so good
hArrysbtch the thing is, they're both in the same house and probably the same room even
harrysmoustache i love my parents
user45 did you guys heard about all the rumours that they both actually have a son who's already 3 years old?
⤡ harrysmylife stop believing in everything you read on the internet
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2021
harryupdates
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liked by yourinstagram, ynupdates and 103 291 others
harryupdates Harry listens to Folklore, do you?
view all 4 302 comments
yourinstagram How did you make it look so realistic????
⤡ hArrysbtch hey queen!
⤡ yourinstagram well hello there
harrysmoustache i love this edit
ynsmymama harry knows a good music when he hears one
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ynupdates
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liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 87 430 others
ynupdates YN and HARRY at the 63rd Grammy Awards!
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harryupdates they are hilarious! they're not even sitting at the same table
harrysmoustache catching up with my bestie after not seeing her for years (it's been twenty minutes)
hArrysbtch AND THEY BOTH WENT HOME WITH A GRAMMY
ynsmybestie that floral dress is doing wonders! she looks like a princess
ynsmymama PARENTS
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2022
harrystyles
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liked by yourinstagram, harryupdates, annetwist and 10 399 484 others
harrystyles Harry's House is out now. It wouldn't have been done without you, though. Thank you, my love.
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yourinstagram I'm gonna go and scream from the rooftops
annetwist ♥️
harryupdates I CANNOT TAKE IT, HARRY. COME ON.
hArrysbtch you little btch. you make me cry with Matilda and then you post this? not cool, man. not cool.
ynsmybestie she's inspiration, she's supportive, she's loving.
ynsmymama wearing his shirt, drinking wine and playing guitar... man that's some happy living there
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ynupdates
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liked by harryupdates and 34 430 others
ynupdates YN and Harry in Tokyo!
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ynupdates YN's wearing a hoodie gifted by a fan!
hArrysbtch that thumb of his is not going down in the near future, is it?
harryupdates lovely couple
user23 they really don't care about all those rumours, do they?
⤡ harrysmylife what rumours again?
⤡ user23 apparently they have a child together since 2017!
⤡ harrysmoustache you want to tell me that they manage to hide their baby for five years? that's highly unlikely
⤡ ynsmybestie well, yn disappeared for a year and nobody saw her. i don't think it could be that unlikely for them.
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ynsmybestie
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liked by harryupdates, ynupdates and 25 392 others
ynsmybestie PARENTS MIMICKING EACH OTHER
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harryupdates oh, i've totally missed it!
ynupdates they have the same mind, that's it
hArrysbtch i love them so much, i can die now
stylesmybabie that's some iconic shit
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2023
ynupdates
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liked by harryupdates, ynsmybestie and 78 229 others
ynupdates YN and HARRY at the 65th Grammy Awards! Once again they went home NOT empty handed! Harry with 3 and YN with 1 award!
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harryupdates i am so proud of them!
hArrysbtch those bitches still weren't sitting at the same table
harrysmoustache they both look so stylish, i love it
ynsmybestie i love how she stood up and started clapping louder when people from the back were yelling that Beyonce should've won
⤡ ynupdates she knows what it feels like to be told those words all to well
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harryupdates
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liked by ynupdates, hArrysbtch and 103 229 others
harryupdates YN JOINED HARRY ON STAGE TONIGHT IN PALM SPRINGS, CA!
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harryupdates WHAT IS HAPPENING?????
harryupdates THEY ARE SINGING STYLE AND MEDICINE TOGETHER
hArrysbtch what the fucck... are the people at the stadium alive?
ynupdates 'I left Judie back stage, I hope he's gonna be okay.' WERE THE RUMOURS REALLY TRUE?????
user45 i told you guys years ago and you didn't believe me...
hArrysbtch 'love, your mic is on' 'oh shit' i don't think they were ready to announce anything
harrysmoustache there's no way. this is one of my dreams
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 12 391 394 others
yourinstagram Judie and Teddy say hi to the World and they hope that you can be kind to them.
comments to this post have been limited
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ynupdates
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liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 56 492 others
ynupdates YN during Vigilante Shit tonight in Los Angeles! Not gonna lie, she's on another level tonight!
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harryupdates HARRY is in the audience, maybe that's why!
hArrybtch harry, you lucky, lucky son of a lady dog
harrysmoustache she's so sexy
ynsmybestie after two pregnancies??? couldn't be me. she looks so fucking good
harrysmylife what if she's announcing something????
⤡ ynupdates do you think it's gonna be 1989?
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harryupdates
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liked by ynupdates, hArrysbtch and 56 492 others
harryupdates HARRY at YN's show tonight in Los Angeles!
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hArrysbtch SHE JUST ANNOUNCED THE 1989 YN'S VERSION
ynsmybestie i love how he attended the concert where she's announcing that she's reclaiming the first album that she wrote about him
harrysmoustache he looks good
harrysmylife i need his reaction to yn's vigilante dane
user67 i was at the concert and let me tell you those cheeks were as red as a tomato, he enjoyed it!
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, ynupdates and 13 392 484 others
yourinstagram 1989 MY VERSION is out on 23rd of October. Thank you to whoever made that edit, it should've been the album cover from the start.
comments to this post have been limited
harrystyles I prefer the one that has you on the front and back. It gives it more value, I'd say.
⤡ yourinstagram Either way, I'm gonna frame it and hang it above our bed.
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voguemagazine
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liked by yourinstagram, harrystyles and 2 942 293 others
voguemagazine For the first time we tagged team and let our sweet little friends, Judie and Teddy interview their mom, YN YSN. "Firstly, you read that perfectly, Judie, I am so proud of you, baby. And to answer the question: together with dad, sorry, together with Harry we decided that your privacy and safety are ours priority. And then mummy forgot to turn off the mic! But we're happy that all of the fans and people are kind enough to respect your space and the boundaries we appointed." To read the article go to our link in bio!
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harryupdates "Mummy, you look beautiful today!" Not Judie hyping up his mom! you little baby I love you so much!
ynupdates "please don't fall in the water, mummy. Daddy, daddy will you suffer mummy?" "Yes, I will safe mummy, baby." I LOVE BABIES
harrysmoustache and the painting was done by the whole family...
ynsmybestie i usually hate kids, but those two are so adorable
ynsmymama i m gonna put you all in my pocket and protect you with my life
hArrysbtch "when you are in the limelight as much as dad and mum, you want something to be just yours. that's you and Teddy for us. our little rays of sunshine." I AM CRYING
⤡ ynupdates i love how she talked with Judie as if he was grown. she seems to be a great mother
⤡ hArrysbtch i wouldn't expect anything else from her
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a/n: well, that definitely was a long one! let me know if you want any more from this pair!
912 notes ¡ View notes
nolita-fairytale ¡ 1 year ago
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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter nine
summary: you catch up with an old friend and luca makes you dinner.
warnings: fluff, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.
word count: 3.3k
listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist (songs mentioned in chapter are in this playlist!)
a/n: i've always pictured mathilde & jesper as the chalamet siblings AND astrid is in fact played by rina sawayama i don't make the rules (i do). thank you for all comments, reblogs, and screaming at me because we are all obsessed. seriously, it's an honor and i'm just so excited that you all are just as excited as me. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.
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chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten
You spend your first Sunday afternoon without Luca, for the first time in a few weeks, deep cleaning your home. Between your new relationship and your work at the restaurant, you’d found yourself falling behind on chores. But he’d worked the late shift last night, filling in for a cook who called out, which is how you’d ended up with a night and morning of divine alone time. 
With your headphones on, it’s easy to multitask, simultaneously folding clothes while you catch up with your friend, formerly-sister-in-law, over the phone. 
“Anyways, work’s kept me so damn busy that I’ve barely had a moment in my own home but… we are all doing quite alright over here,” she explains, after detailing her travels all across Europe. 
Being a buyer for Nordstrom UK keeps her on the road, or rather, in the sky, at a frequent rate. 
“Well I’m glad you called. It’s good to hear from you. And It’s really good to catch up, Astrid,” you say, smiling to yourself as you finish folding a pile of t-shirts. 
“Well, just because you and Joe didn’t work out doesn’t change anything. You’re still my sister,” she replies, with a small laugh. “We’re family, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t keep a good thing around.”
“Astrid! You know it wasn’t like that,” you protest, though you know it’s all in jest.
“I know,” she sighs, and you can practically hear her rolling her eyes from all the way to England. “Selfishly, I’m just feeling a bit contrary about it, is all. But enough about me. How are you? How’s everything at the restaurant?”
“It’s been great. I… can’t believe that I have a restaurant,” you answer as you shake your head in disbelief.
“God, I’ve gotta get out there soon. I haven’t stopped thinking about that lumache from my last visit – what was it – last November? Yeah, it’s been too long,” Astrid recalls lightheartedly. 
“Yeah, it really has. Just let me know. You know I’m always up for hosting you,” you agree, hopeful that she’ll come visit soon. 
“Besides work, what else’s new? And don’t tell me you’re still just burying yourself in the restaurant because I don’t want to hear it,” she asks, a curious tone in her voice as she segways from work to 
“Well um…” you trail off, treading lightly over the delicate subject. 
The thing you want to tell her about is Luca, because he is what’s new in your life. His presence in your life is evident – it’s in the pair of sweatpants he tossed in with your laundry that you’re folding now, the spare toothbrush you ‘lent’ him that sits right next to yours, and the way that thinking of him makes your heart race. 
You don’t want to lie to her… but you’re also not sure what the etiquette is either. 
It’s not like this is included in the divorcee handbook you never got in the first place. 
“I’m… sort of seeing someone,” you admit, hesitantly. 
“What?!” she gasps, instantly giddy with excitement. “Yeah, we uh…” you hesitate, testing the waters since she seems excited about it. “We’ve been dating for about a month now, maybe.”
“Shut up! That’s mega! How’d you meet? Tell me everything,” she gushes. 
“Well, he actually came into the restaurant. Kind of became a regular and uh…” you explain, and she can hear the smile in your voice as you do. “He’s great. You’ll love this story, actually. He’s also a chef – a pastry chef. One night after coming in, he left a box of croissants for my staff and a handwritten note inviting me to come to the restaurant he works at. It was very….”
“Romantic. Wow…” Astrid adds, too excited for you as she listens. “And a bold move. Knows what he wants. I like him already.”
“Yeah, he’s… he’s really incredible. I swear. He has the patience of a saint, especially as I’ve uh… you know, I’ve been trying to figure this whole… dating after you end your marriage kinda thing,” you continue, chuckling in response to the awkwardness of it all. 
“We were friends actually, for a while. Just friends, which, I know you’ll yell at me about when you see what he looks like. But I think it was good for us, for me, really – to be friends first.”
“Well, now you have to send me a picture,” she requests, even more intrigued as you fiddle with your phone, pulling up a photo you took of Luca the other day. 
You wait a beat. Then another, seeing that the photo has been delivered as Astrid shrieks in your ear. 
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, mate?!” she practically screams. 
“I know,” you squeal. 
“You are absolutely unbelievable,” she shakes her head, staring at the gorgeous blonde on her screen. “How did you not jump right into bed?!”
“Trust me,” you reply, the room suddenly feeling 5 degrees hotter. “After we agreed to start seeing each other, we didn’t wait very long.”
”Sounds like you have a boyfriend,” Astrid comments smugly, as she waits for your reaction. You have expect yourself to panic, but you don’t as you the words tumble out of your mouth. 
“I… it does sound that way, doesn’t it?” you ask her, your voice soft as you reply. 
“Absolutely, my darling,” Astrid replies, before changing the subject. “Okay, so how’s the sex?!”
“Astrid!” you protest with a laugh. “Do you really want to-?”
“Of fucking bloody course I do! Now spill!” she demands. 
You pause, grinning as your cheeks blush. 
“It’s fucking incredible,” you admit, eliciting a giggle from your friend. 
“Shit, babe,” she sighs, contently. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks,” you say back, because you’re pretty damn happy too. “Astrid, will you keep this between us? It’s just that it’s all still so new and….” 
You pause. 
“I just don’t want Joe to hear it from anyone but me.” 
“Of course,” she replies, compassionately, in deep understanding.
“What else are sisters for?”
-------------------------------
You showed up to Luca’s flat uncertain of what to expect, but then he’d pulled you into his home and kissed you like you’d been on his mind all day – and in his defense, you really had. 
“Why don’t you come over Sunday night, then? Let me cook you dinner for a change,” he had suggested as you were figuring out your schedules for the week. 
“You sure you’ll be up for that after working overtime this week?” you’d asked in response. 
“I’ll be alright, love,” he’d answered, like he had unlimited energy when it came to you. 
And even though you’d asked him if you should bring dessert – only to be met with a cheeky comment about you being dessert – you showed up anyway with a matcha basque cheesecake in hand and a deli container filled with a yuzu scented whipped cream to top it with. 
So this is how you find yourself perched on top of Luca’s kitchen island countertop, after having watched his exceptional knife skills for the last thirty. You spend your evening snacking on sliced sourdough bread you’re not sure how he had the time to make, and sip on your glass of red wine while watching him prepare a coq au vin. You swear you’ve got hearts in your eyes when you look at him, watching his muscular, inked forearms flex with how he grips his chef’s knife. As music plays softly in the background, a playlist you can only imagine is the entirety of Luca’s music library put on shuffle, you busy yourself, refilling your wine glass for your second glass of the night. 
“Want another, babe?” you ask him, noticing that he’s on his way to empty as well. 
“Sure. Thank you, my love,” he replies, scooping a handful of chopped carrots up from his cutting board with a bench scraper, depositing them into a small bowl. You watch as Luca picks up his glass of wine and makes his way over to you. 
He hands you the glass, then places a gentle kiss against your lips, a smile spreading across his lips. Luca takes a few steps away so that you can fill his glass again, making a few swift movements to turn the heat down on the gas burner. 
“How was your day?” he asks, while still moving around his kitchen. 
You fill him in on your productive day of chores and catching up with an old friend while Luca listens, busy with removing the pieces of chicken out from the heavy, enameled, cast-iron pot and onto a plate. By the time Luca’s added hot oil to the pot, followed by the chopped carrots and peeled, halved cipollini onions, you’ve caught him up on the long version of Jesper’s latest love-life updates, since he and Claudio have now decided to make it official. 
“So you used to make this with your mom?” you ask curiously, changing the subject as you watch Luca scrape the browned bits off the bottom of the pot. 
He nods in response, stealing a glance your way, his lips turned up into a half smile. 
“Yeah. Most coq au vins can take up to three to four hours, but my mum didn’t have the time,” Luca explains, as you watch him remove the pieces of chicken from out of the heavy, enameled, cast-iron pot and onto a plate. “But it was important for her… to cook for me… to share that ritual with me when she could.” 
The sound of the wine and cognac mixture hitting the hot pan sizzles throughout Luca’s home, your nose filling with the smell of deglazed caramelized bits. 
“And I spent a lot of time as a kid watching the cooking channel, so while we didn’t exactly spend all Sunday cooking a classic French coq au vin, Jamie Oliver’s did the job quite well,” Luca recalls, sharing a piece of his relationship with food with you. 
“Well, it smells incredible,” you say, as he approaches you once more, this time with a full glass of wine in your hands, ready for him. 
As Luca leans in again, the way he kisses you is much more languid, slow, like time is limitless. You breathe him in, completely enamored with the man that’s kissing you, and before anything too wild can happen, he pulls away, leaving you wanting more. Luca smirks, and you swear he knows the effect he has on you. He presses a quick peck to your lips this time, before taking the glass of wine from your hands and heading back to his post in front of the stovetop. 
“This all goes back in,” he continues, using tongs to add the chicken and pancetta bits back into the simmering pot. “Then we braise it in the oven for about… thirty, forty minutes maybe.” 
You raise your glass of wine to your lips, taking a quick sip of the beaujolais you’re using both for the coq au vin and to unwind, listening as the song changes in the background, instantly recognizing the drum pattern. The corners of your lips turn up into a smile as you close your eyes, enjoying the familiarity of the song as you say:
“God, I love this song.”
Luca smiles, “It’s a classic. Great song.” 
Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick
The one that makes me scream, she said
The one that makes me laugh, she said
Threw her arms around my neck
“You know, I saw them when I was in my early 20s. It was just me and a bunch of somebody’s dads,” you grin, in reference to The Cure. 
Luca chuckles at your comment, before asking, “Did you really?” 
“Yes. And when they came out on stage, smoke machine and all, I wept because it was the fulfillment of a childhood dream – to see them. I… was a bit of an angsty teen,” you answer, raising your wine glass to your lips once more. 
“Think we all had an angsty phase, more or less. Mine was less pining to The Cure and more stirrin’ up trouble,” Luca admits, lightheartedly. 
“Again, and I’m holding you to it. You promised me pictures,” you remind him with aplomb. 
“I did, yeah,” he chuckles, shyly, with a sigh of resignation. 
You focus on enjoying one of your favorite songs and sipping on your glass of wine, as you watch Luca put the enameled cast-iron plot, full of the ready-to-braise coq au vin, into the oven. 
Comfortable silences between you and Luca have become more frequent. There are days that all you want to do is stay up till the early hours of the morning talking and kissing and fucking, and there are others that you love leaning into the quiet intimacy that seems to be developing between you. It’s almost as if you’ve forgotten what this feels like – the excitement of something new where you’re learning so much about each other and everything feels like the first time. 
It’s thrilling and it’s also safe. 
Luca makes you feel safe, and you can’t imagine doing this with anyone else but him. 
For a first time relationship, post-divorce, you really hit the jackpot, you think to yourself. 
Luca continues moving around the kitchen, drinking his wine in between clean up tasks, as if he’s at work, hell bent on keeping his station clean. He’s much better than you are at that, you observe, as he does a few dishes that he’s used up, instead of leaving them in the sink for tomorrow. 
As he dries his hands on a dish towel, the song changes, and the opening notes of Beyonce’s Love On Top begin playing. You smile as you hear the undeniable: 
Bring the beat in!
“Alright, mate. Hear me out,” Luca proposes, spinning around with excitement. “And I don’t say this lightly. But this. This is one of the greatest songs of all time.” 
“I-I’m sorry,” you giggle as you watch Luca dance to the song in his kitchen with a smoothness that’s somehow simultaneously a little silly. 
“What? You don’t agree?” he asks, shooting you a look as he ball changes towards you, earning another laugh from you. 
“No, I do. I love this song,” you grin from ear to ear. “I’m just so tickled by the fact that you love this song.”
“It’s Beyonce,” he defends, in his best ‘well-duh’ kind of tone, gesturing wildly. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” 
“Wh-,” you begin to say, before Luca’s practically pulling you off of the counter to join him. “Luca!!”
But he’s not having any of your protests as he wraps his arms around you. You hang onto him, holding him close as he leads you in a silly uptempo kind of dance, spinning and turning you with him in a way that has you in a fit of giggles. The two of you stumble from his kitchen into the living space area as you move together, embracing how goofy and ridiculous you both feel. 
Luca sings along softly, something you get a better listen to as soon as he’s pulling you close to him. 
“What the fuck!” you practically shriek, your jaw practically on the floor. 
“Hmm?” he hums in response, unphased by your outburst. 
“You’re unfuckingreal,” you balk, as you listen to him hum along to the Beyonce song. “I mean. You-, like, you look like this, you’re great in bed, and you have a nice singing voice? How-, how’s a girl ever supposed to stand a chance?” 
He chuckles, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, sending chills down your spine as he coos, teasingly, “I’m great in the sack, hmm?” 
Your heart skips a beat as you pull back, just enough to look into the eyes of your lover as you say, “Oh fuck off.”
He laughs again, this time, leaving a soft kiss against your ear, hugging you closer to him as you slow your dance down as the song begins to end. There’s a pause between this and the next song, providing the perfect opportunity for Luca to answer your earlier question. 
“You weren’t,” Luca replies, his voice quiet but sure. Supposed to stand a chance, he means. “I think we were supposed to meet. Supposed to be here.”
Supposed to fall in love. 
He leans down to kiss you as the next song begins, transitioning into a much bluesier sound. The crooning sounds of Etta James blast from Luca’s living room speakers, as you smile into the kiss. You groan, your heart aching in the best way as kiss him to:
I want a Sunday kind of love
A love to last past Saturday night
And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight
And I want a Sunday kind of love, oh yeah, yeah
“My God. I think tonight’s shuffle is proof that you may just have the most versatile taste in music history,” you mumble, pulling away for a moment from the kiss. 
As you open your eyes, Luca’s just admiring you, an awestruck look on his face that steals your breath. No longer able to deflect with humor or anything else really, you lay your head on his chest, settling into the soft swaying motion of the dance that you and Luca have fallen into. Your arms go around his neck once more as Luca holds you close to him, making a mental note to remember this forever. 
“How did you know?” you ask Luca, softly. 
“What’s that, love?” he asks back. 
“You said that you thought we might be good at this. At… at an ‘us.’ When we talked about starting to see each other,” you begin, choosing your words carefully, underscored by the violins of the song. 
Luca takes a deep breath admitting that, “I didn’t.” 
“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up at him, your eyes full of adoration for the man that’s captured your heart.
“Babe, I-,” he starts, letting out a small laugh. “I knew we got on well. And that I liked you. And I thought… if we got on this well as friends and you felt the same, that we could give it a go. See what happens.” He takes a beat, choosing his words, before continuing with: 
“But, my love, I can’t predict the future. It could work out in the long run, it could not. But I wanted-, I want to see how far we can take it.”
You take a deep breath, because this conversation is deep-breath worthy. 
Notorious for wanting to read the last page of a book first, you know he’s right, that you can’t predict the future, and you, now just as much as he does, would like to see how far this could go. 
“Yeah it-, that makes complete sense,” you stammer, feeling incredibly vulnerable all of a sudden. You rest your head against his chest again, settling back into your slow sway to the beat. 
Like clockwork, the song ends, something a little more upbeat trickling in through the speakers. You and Luca remain in each others’ arms, content to stay here forever. You’re amazed at his confidence, at his fearlessness to take a chance on love, and you think to yourself, he might be teaching you some of that too. 
“Let’s take a trip together,” Luca suggests, the low resonance of his voice cutting through the quiet. “Maybe end of the month or something. An end of summer trip.” He chuckles, a hand coming up to stroke your hair as you enjoy the way his voice vibrates in his chest. 
“Fuck it. I could care less if we make it in time for the end of summer. Let’s just get out of the city together.” 
“That sounds spectacular,” you answer. 
And it’s there, in Luca’s arms after a dance party for two, that you think to yourself, you couldn’t be happier.
539 notes ¡ View notes
the-iceni-bitch ¡ 1 year ago
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Through Every Forest
V/V: Run
Relationship: dark!Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega!Fem reader
Words: ~4.8k
Summary: Will Curtis finally make you his?
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral, p in v, knotting, kinda acrobatic 69), Omegaverse, possessive Curtis, primal kink, mentions of non con activities, rut and heat, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!
A/N: The finale! Our insane babes have feelings? Curtis is a whole fucking meal. I’m just so happy they’re getting the ending they deserve and hope y’all enjoy!
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on the latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!
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You groaned when you woke up, your wounds still sore even though it had been almost two weeks. But then you felt Curtis’s heart beating under your cheek, your eyes fluttering open so you could gaze at his face. He had spent every night with you since your last disaster of a hunt, and most of his days as well except when he had to take meetings, gently helping you as you recovered from your injuries.
But he was still angry, growling each time he had to leave you and deal with the rich, entitled assholes his operation catered to. They were making him rich, but after the fiasco of your last hunt he trusted the dicks who paid him even less. Even the fact that he had rooted out Bryce and gotten rid of the rebellious elements of his organization didn’t help his mood, Carter being the only Alpha he would trust anywhere near you.
The only thing that could make him feel any better was you, being close to you and knowing that you were safe keeping him more happy than he would ever admit. You were his now, no one else deserved you or could handle you. He was sick of pretending otherwise, even though he was still grumpy about it.
It was hard to stay grumpy when he woke up to the feeling of your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock though, groaning before he even opened his eyes and resting his hand on your head. Once he was fully awake he looked down at you, chuckling at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his sensitive head. You hummed when he stroked your cheek gently before gripping the back of your head and forcing himself down your throat, gagging and drooling all over him as you gave him a reproachful look.
“Don’t you fucking glare at me, little girl.” He popped you on the cheek once before fucking up into your mouth again, grinding against your face and purring when when he felt your nails digging into his hair-covered thighs. “Acting like you don’t love this shit when I can smell that little pussy drooling like a bitch.”
You just rolled your eyes while you swallowed around him, breathing through your nose when he started fucking your throat in earnest. He was right, you did love this. Your pussy was throbbing and clenching while his cock filled your mouth and stretched your lips until they stung, your jaw aching from being forced open so wide for such a long time. Then he yanked on your hair and wrapped his free hand around your neck and you moaned around him, choking when he squeezed until your throat constricted around his thick cock.
“That’s a good little ‘mega, fucking Christ.” Curtis grunted and threw his head back when you swallowed around him, his hips grinding against your face as he kept gripping your throat to make your muscles tighten around his dick. “You’re gonna let me knot that pretty mouth, aren’t you baby girl?”
Even though you couldn’t answer him he could see in your eyes you would, that you wanted it. Your tongue slid along his shaft as you slobbered all over him and yourself, and you could have sighed when his fingers massaged your scalp as he pushed your head up and down on his cock. His precum ran down your throat as he let you bring him closer, his voice leaving him in a low growl when you brought a hand up to play with his balls.
He couldn’t get enough of watching you like this, of knowing how much you enjoyed being used by him. It’s what let him know you were the only one who deserved him, just like he was the only one who deserved you. The two of you were made for each other, both of you vicious and primal, survivors of the circumstances life threw at you who made the best of your respective situations. And all he wanted was to make sure you never had to survive anything else.
When you squeezed his balls he bit his lip, his eyes heavily lidded as he watched your wide stretched lips grip his cock. He could feel himself starting to swell, his balls pulling tight and his knot inflating while he fixed his gaze on yours. You gagged when he squeezed your throat so tight you couldn’t breathe, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision going blurry as your cunt clenched and fluttered around nothing.
Curtis bit off a roar when he shot his thick, hot cum down your throat, his hips jerking against your face while his knot locked him behind your teeth. You swallowed every drop eagerly, your eyes bright as you laved your tongue all over him and watched his face contort in bliss. Every time you made him come you knew you would kill any Omega who tried to take him from you, no weak little bitch could ever do for him what you could. If only he would actually fuck you.
“My good girl, c’mere little one.” Curtis snorted when you just whined around his knot as he leaned down and grabbed your hips, keeping your head in his lap while he lifted your body off the bed until your ass was resting against his chest and your legs were hooked over his broad shoulders. “Good thing you’re so flexible, filly, makes everything I want to do to you that much easier. Watch your fucking teeth.”
You choked when he shoved fingers from both hands inside your pussy and pulled your clenching walls apart, his tongue pushing inside you and lapping up your slick like he had been walking in the desert for a week and you were his oasis. His beard rubbed at your folds until they were raw, your clit throbbing against his upper lip while he rubbed the inside of your pussy even as he swirled his tongue inside you. When he pulled back and spat on your cunt you shivered, your throat constricting around his cock when he smeared it all over your soft lips with the calloused pads of his fingers.
Curtis groaned against your skin when your tongue started running all over his cock again, kissing your pussy almost reverently before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. Even though he couldn’t see your face he could feel the pleasure coursing through you, your body shivering in his arms while his tongue pressed inside you once more. He had to pull away from you when you moaned around him, though, his knot swelling even more as he shot another load down your spasming throat.
“Goddamn, you just wanna have a knot in your mouth all fucking day, huh girl?” Curtis smiled and bit the inside of your thigh when you just whimpered in response, smacking your cunt and grunting when it made you let out a muffled squeal. “C’mon little one, don’t have the time to keep your mouth stuffed full, no matter how good you feel. Gimme a big one.”
He started rubbing your cunt viciously, his other arm wrapped around your waist and holding you tightly to his body while you gushed slick all over him. When he slapped your pussy again you choked as you tried to scream around his knot, your back arching and your toes curling when he kept spanking your sensitive flesh until you were soaked. You were so close, your chest heaving with ragged breaths as you struggled to control yourself even as your eyes rolled back in your head.
Three fingers plunged inside you and pressed against that perfect spot and you screamed, your entire body going stiff as you came apart at the seams. Curtis laughed softly when you squirted all over his face, dragging his tongue over you slowly to lick you clean as you kept quivering in his arms. It took another minute for his knot to go down enough for him to slide out of your mouth, and you moaned when he turned your body so you were sitting in his lap with your cheek pressed against his chest. You sighed when he scented the top of your head, letting your eyes fall closed as his hand ran over your spine while he looked out the window.
“How does your thigh feel today, filly?” Curtis kissed your hair and gently touched the scar on your side, smiling when you didn’t flinch. “You gonna be up for a longer walk?”
“Yeah.” You hummed when you felt his heart beating under your cheek. “No cane today.”
“Fucking stubborn… fine.” He had been trying so hard not to baby you after you were shot, but he couldn’t help but still feel guilty for putting you in a situation where you had been injured. “Just make sure you eat all your food and take your pain meds.”
You still let him help you walk to the table once a Beta brought your breakfast in, leaning on his arm then sitting in his lap so he could keep an eye on you. Even though he wasn’t babying you, he still refused to let you out of his reach, never wanting you more than an arm’s length away so he could ensure he was there to catch you if you fell. Once you had finished your breakfast he helped with your stretches, calling you his good girl when you just groaned at him pressing your knee to your chest before massaging your thigh. Your walk was slow, especially without the cane, and you still hadn’t gotten used to being allowed to roam the grounds without a collar and leash. Curtis smiled at you when you held onto his arm and looked up at him, letting you rest when you reached the fence at the edge of the compound.
“Do you have meetings today?” Your leg was throbbing a little but you tried not to let it show, leaning your cheek against his arm and shivering when an autumn breeze blew through the trees.
“Just one.” Hopefully his last one for a while. “And you have a checkup, so no bitching about being left all by yourself.”
You snorted when he started to lead you back to the compound, scenting his chest and sighing as his fingers ran over your spine. He kissed you before he left you in the medical center, his hand gripping the back of your neck and his fingers pressing against your gland until you were sighing into his mouth. Curtis nodded to the Beta doctor before leaving you, reluctance written all over his face when he moved back down the hall to his offices.
The doctor was gentle but thorough as he examined you, helping you stretch your limbs and making sure your mobility was still doing well as you recovered from being shot. In spite of some residual stiffness you were doing well, and he gave you the go ahead to stop using the cane which you couldn’t be more pleased about. He did warn you that with your heat coming up in a few weeks you needed to be careful about not over exerting yourself, but aside from taking a blood sample he was fine sending you back to your quarters.
Curtis’s meeting went well also, managing to land the whale after promising him a once in a lifetime opportunity and shaking his hand. His own visit to the med center went as expected, but he still had a slight frown on his face when he went back to your rooms. He just hoped you would be understanding about what he had to do.
“Hey honey.” When you were stretching when he walked in he smiled, helping you to your feet and cradling your face in his hands as he gazed into your eyes. “You look good, like you’re feeling better.”
“I am.” You could smell the change in him, like he was stressed about something. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re too fucking observant for your own good.” Curtis grumbled before bending to rest his forehead against yours. “I… shit. I have to leave for two weeks.”
“What?!” You hissed and grabbed his shirt when he tried to pull back, the look in your eyes full of distress. “The fuck you are. Where are you going?”
“That’s not important.” He hated that expression on your face, but he couldn’t stay. Curtis set his jaw and wrapped his hand around your throat, pressing his thumb against your carotid and growling until you started to relax. “This isn’t a punishment, and my people will still be reporting to me, so no throwing your fucking tantrums or I’ll take it out on your ass when I’m back.”
“You fucking bastard.” You groaned when he slapped you, wheezing when he squeezed your neck tighter and pulled you close to scent your hair. “I can’t believe you’re abandoning me, after everything…”
“I told you, I’m not abandoning you.” Curtis couldn’t stop himself from kissing you deeply, winding his arms around you and sighing when you purred against his lips. “I’ll be back, don’t be a fucking bitch the whole time I’m gone, be my good girl.”
“Wait, Curtis…” You dragged him back to you and kissed him again, just restraining yourself from climbing into his arms. “You promise you’ll be back?”
“Of course.” He rubbed your mating gland and frowned when you gave him a pathetic expression. “You’re mine now, I’m not leaving you. Just keep being good for me.”
You tried not to whine when he finally left your shared rooms, hating the disgusting, needy feeling that was sitting in your chest. That feeling didn’t go away the next day, or the day after that. But you still wanted to be good, he had to be coming back. He was the only one you trusted, the only one who made you feel safe. So you ate all your meals, and did all of your physical therapy exercises. You even let Carter walk you around the compound to make sure your mobility was continuing to improve. It wasn’t the same without him, though. Every night when you tried to fall asleep all you could think about was how cold the bed was without Curtis.
Two weeks passed so slowly without him. You should have hated how upset you were when he wasn’t with you, but all you could feel was lonely. It was even worse that your heat snuck up on you a week early, making you moan and whine as cramps made you double over and slick stain your thighs. When the sun began setting on the fourteenth day you started when Carter came into your rooms unannounced, frowning when he held up a white silk shift and looked at you expectantly.
“What is that for?” You shivered and groaned in your nest when he came closer, gripping one of Curtis’s shirts tightly when another cramp wracked you. “I’m not supposed to do hunts anymore.”
“It’s from Curtis.” Carter sighed, not enjoying the subterfuge so matter how necessary it was. “I’m going to take you to see him. He asked you to trust him.”
“You… alright.” You scowled and plucked the shift from his grip, waiting until he turned around to take off your sweats and put on the nightie. “If this is some kind of trick I’ll fucking kill the both of you.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He chuckled when you just sniffed at him and let him lead you out of your quarters. “That’s why you’re the boss’s girl.”
You found your face heating up when he called you Curtis’s girl. It was stupid, but with how damn hormonal you were you felt flattered. The two of you didn’t talk while he drove you out towards the hunting grounds, your anxiety starting to go up when you saw a collection of bright lights centered on a clearing right in front of the lodge. Another cramp hit you and you whined, shivering in the cool night air and grateful that Carter was on suppressants so you didn’t have to worry about that on top of everything else.
One of Curtis’s Alphas was speaking to a group of strange Alphas on the lodge’s balcony, and you could see Betas moving through the group as they took bets. In front of them was a cage, and you could hear the speaker going over the Prime Alpha specimen and you felt your blood freeze. The scent of his rut hit you and you doubled over when your cunt throbbed, snarling at Carter when he parked the jeep.
“What’s going on?” You tried to pull away when Carter took your arm and started to pull you towards the clearing but he was too strong. “Is this a fucking joke?”
“No.” Carter shook his head when he thrust you under the lights. “It was his idea.”
You whined when you saw Curtis in the cage prowling around like a dangerous animal. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were wild, and you’d never smelled a rut so potent. Every instinct you had was begging you to submit, to bend over and present to him so he could knot you and get rid of the fever and pain that was torturing you. The sight of him restrained like that was killing you, making you reach out to him until he slammed against the bars.
“I can fucking smell you.” His voice was a vicious growl, sending a vibration through your whole body that made you whimper. “I’m gonna pin you down and fuck you like a bitch until my pup’s in your belly.”
“You rat bastard.” Being so close to him while both of you were victim to your primal urges was making you lose yourself, suddenly pressing your body against the bars and keening when he did the same with a snarl. “You left me by myself just so you could mate me for a fucking audience? I should kill you.”
“You can try, ‘Mega.” He wanted to lick you everywhere, you smelled so fucking good, making his hard cock throb painfully until he had to practically hump the bar he was leaning against. “Don’t think it’s gonna go your way. Besides, not like I could stay around that ripe fucking cunt for two weeks while my suppressants wore off without fucking you senseless.”
“Not my fault you wanted to turn into a fucking caveman.” Your body was screaming at you to give yourself to the Alpha, to present, to breed. You’d never felt anything like it, mewling and keening while you scented the bars right in front of his chest. “You could’ve told me what the fuck was going on.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Curtis rammed into the bars again and rumbled when you tilted your head back so he could see your swollen gland, licking his lips as he thought about what it was going to feel like when he finally knotted you. “Goddamn, I can’t wait to breed that little pussy. You’d better run for your fucking life, bitch.”
The two of you kept snarling at each other and grinding against the bars of his cage, your eyes blown wide with desire and need as your skin itched to be pressed against each other. Then the shot went off and you gave him one more smile, biting your lip before turning on your heels and sprinting into the woods. You didn’t even want to bother trying to find a hiding place, you just wanted to run. You wanted him to chase you down and catch you and pin you to the ground while he claimed you. Your blood was up, the moon was bright as it shone through the trees, and you wanted to give in to the wild instincts that were coursing through your veins.
There was no point in trying to be careful, so you let your body crash through the brush as branches whipped against your face and arms, leaving your blood on the sharp wood as they scraped and scratched your skin. After twenty minutes of running you heard a howl and almost collapsed when an enormous cramp made your core clench, your breath coming heavily as you fought through the pain and kept running. You could hear the trees groaning and shaking far away, knowing that he was drawing closer by the second and pumping your limbs even faster until your lungs were burning.
Curtis snarled viciously when he caught your scent, ripping a branch off one of the trees and throwing it aside after it slashed across his chest. He didn’t even feel the sting, completely consumed by the unquenchable lust that was filling his body. Your scent was calling to him like a beacon, your trail so clear he could have found you with his eyes closed. You were so close, and you were his. The fact that he had waited so long to claim you seemed stupid now when he was lost in a haze of pure want for you and the pups you would give him.
The air changed, and there you were. Both of you smelled each other at the same time, pausing to gaze at each other for just a moment before Curtis roared and you took off again. He chuckled when he heard you whimper, leaping over a fallen tree and stretching his legs to their limit so he could catch you. You were quick, but so was he, with longer limbs and not wracked by the constant pain you were as your heat tried to drive you to submit to him.
When he caught you you yelped, panting heavily as the two of you tumbled to the forest floor and he wound his body with yours in a tangle of limbs. Curtis shredded the delicate fabric of your shift with a snarl before he started scenting you obsessively, his lips meeting yours for only a moment then his face was buried in your neck. You could feel slick leaking down the insides of your thighs when he dragged his nose over your throat, your pussy throbbing as he breathed deeply and growled before moving to rub his face against your soft breasts. He chuffed when he lifted your arm so he could breathe in where you were most potent, making you shudder when he licked the smooth skin of your armpits then began biting his way down your stomach.
Curtis let out a deep growl and rolled you onto your stomach, biting your ass and barring his massive arm across the small of your back when you tried to wriggle away from him. He buried his face between your legs and started lapping up your slick, groaning at your taste while you quivered at his touch. As soon as he sat back up you presented for him, panting while you arched your back and bent your knees under your body.
“That’s a good little bitch.” Curtis ran his nose up your spine until his body was caging yours in, reaching down between the two of you to undo his fly while he licked your gland. “Gonna breed the fuck out of this little pussy, you’re mine.”
As soon as he shoved his cock inside you he sank his teeth into your gland and made you scream. His hands were braced on either side of your head as he began to rut into you, his voice rough each time he grunted against your skin. He was stretching you so wide it almost hurt, but you loved it. You dug your fingers into the soft earth when he started moving faster inside you, whining and biting your lip while his hips drove your body into the ground.
Curtis threw his head back and howled when you clenched around him and gasped as your first orgasm ripped through you. Your blood was filling his mouth and he’d never felt more alive, tangling his fingers with yours where your hands were braced against the forest floor. His breath came in heavy grunts as he kept fucking you in deep strokes, your body trembling as another gush of slick was pushed out of you by his fat cock. When he leaned back down to lick your neck you mewled, tilting your head to the side so he could suck on your new mark and lap it clean.
“Say it.” He nuzzled at your hair and crooned when you keened for him, his cock pummeling your swollen, wet pussy until he was soaked in your juices. “Say you’re mine.”
“Curtis…” You whimpered when he bit your ear and squeezed your hands with his. “I’m yours.”
“Fucking right you’re mine.” Curtis wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground, swallowing your sharp gasp when he pulled out of you so he could pin you against a tree. “Just mine.”
You wailed when his thick cock penetrated you again, the rough bark of the tree scraping your back as he hammered into you. His breath was hot against your neck as he pressed his body close to yours, chuffing in your ear while your pussy stretched and flexed around him. When you dug your nails into the bunching muscles of his back he groaned, driving deeper and grinning when you gave him a satisfying cry.
The look in his eyes was wild when he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers gripping your waist so tight they were going to bruise. You knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. You needed it, and him. You were never letting him go.
Curtis snarled when you bit his gland at the same time you squirted all over his cock, taking one hand off your waist so he could punch the tree right next to your head so hard the wood cracked. When the bond opened up you both groaned, the intensity of your shared emotions crashing around you as you smashed your lips together. His tongue curled against yours when you wound your arms around his neck, his knot starting to swell as his balls pulled tight.
The bond confirmed that the two of you possessed each other completely, your savage, primal instincts flooding your systems as you lost yourselves in each other. Curtis’s drool was running down your chin while he kissed you sloppily, making you moan as he kept his cock sheathed to the hilt and ground against your swollen clit until you shuddered. Your cunt clenched around him and he roared, his eyes screwing shut as he felt himself teetering on the edge of his peak.
You sobbed when his knot fully inflated and locked him inside you, letting him hold you up while his thick, warm cum flooded your womb. Both of you growled into each other’s mouths while you stayed pressed together, your eyes drinking each other up. Curtis kept rolling his body against yours as you both rode your pleasure out, wanting nothing so much as to keep you full of him for the next four days. Then the sound of one of the drones filled your ears and you hissed when a sharp stinging pain hit your neck. You saw a dart hit Curtis right before you blacked out, your body slumping against his.
When you woke up you were in a strange room, the window looking out at the empty woods where red and gold leaves were falling. You purred when you realized someone had transferred your nest to wherever you were, rubbing your face against one of Curtis’s shirts before rolling over to find him beside you. As soon as he felt you stir he opened his eyes and crawled on top of you, grunting when he just thrust inside you again immediately.
“Ah, fuck.” You moaned when he started to fuck you, your mouth falling open when he grabbed your neck and turned your face so he could lick into your mouth. “Where are we?”
“My cabin.” He drove deep and chuckled when your eyes rolled back in your head. “Had them knock us out so we didn’t rip them apart when they tried to move us. God, you feel so fucking good.”
“I know… shit.” You gripped his shirt tightly when his hips picked up speed, panting into his mouth while your pussy fluttered around him. “Don’t stop.”
“Mine. All fucking mine.” Curtis kissed you deeply and smiled against your lips when you moaned for him. “Anyone touches you again and I’ll rip their fucking spines out.”
“And if you ever go back to any of those whimpering bitches,” You bit his bottom lip until you tasted blood. “I’ll cut your dick off.”
“Good girl.” He growled and started grinding into you again, gripping the hair at the base of your skull and yanking your head back so he could lick your throat. “Don’t want any other bitch, just you and this sweet little cunt. You’re done running.”
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calqlate ¡ 6 months ago
Text
GENSHIN BOYS AS BOYS I'VE CRUSHED ON BEFORE
PAIRING(S): al-haitham + diluc + kamisato ayato + thoma x gn! reader
MASTERLIST
CW(S)/TW(S): coarse/foul/strong language used
TAGLIST (italicsed blogs are unable to be tagged): @deeomi + @loving-august + @mshope16 + @saintbernardthethird + @thelonelyarchon
A/N: not me writing about these irl guys when the last 2 guys turned out to be red flags (clown emoji). n e ways, pls enjoy!
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— DILUC RAGNVINDR | the boy who i first liked
as a mega stickler for tradition, he will write letters to you. he was the first one who started this little tradition between both of you, handing you a sealed envelope shyly and telling you to open it when you get home. and so both of you wrote letters to one another, handing them to each other jn person and reading the other's letter in the confines of your own respective homes before penning a response.
he is a bit possessive and protective, never letting anyone open doors for you or escorting you but himself. if you do let anyone do any of the said chivalrous acts, just know you will have to face a mopey and pouty diluc when you next meet him.
he is not one to show pda, but he will always hold your hand in public, with your fingers interlocked with his.
he always has to be by your side, making it his job to be your personal bodyguard. he will always be next to you at parties and will always look out for you.
— THOMA | the boy who was by my side (granted, for 2 years)
he watches over you very carefully and makes sure that you never get hurt. however, if you do get hurt, he will be the first to calm you down and distract you from the pain.
he always knows how to cheer you up when you are down and honestly is such good company to be around. he has big brother energy (omg iykyk but he has similar vibes to hidden love's duan jiaxu) <3
he is also very good with his words and knows how to compliment you when you feel like shit about yourself. got a bad haircut that makes you look like a mushroom? he does not think so; if anything, he thinks you are gorgeous no matter what!
— AL-HAITHAM | the boy who never speaks much
he naturally does not talk a lot and mostly keeps to himself. if you have a big group of friends and he is part of that said social circle, he will mostly sit and listen to the others talk.
he is terrible at comforting people, but he will try his best <//3 he will give you awkward pats on the shoulder and tell you that everything will work out. (not the most 100% foolproof approach, but hey, he has got the spirit!)
he is the kind of person that does not like to go out and have lunch with friends. rather, he would have his food packaged as a takeaway and eat while he is working. so, you definirely know that you have a special place in his heart when he agrees to go and eat with you (and your friends).
he will give you the lowdown on why you should not date a particular person and has receipts on the ready (do not ask how he got that much dirt on them...)
— KAMISATO AYATO | the boy who has natural rizz
one thing i have to say is that he gives compliments at sporadic moments and will completely take you by surprise. for instance, you could be minding your own business and he will say something to make your heart skip a beat.
he is also a bit cheeky and will shout "boo" to friends who turn the corner and bump into him (he will apologise afterwards with a grin though).
he is also really formal when speaking with people (in general) (and it is probably because of his upbringing as well) and he is a genuinely nice person to meet
he is the kind of guy who jumps onto the bandwagon when someone else is trying to hype you up
he will also tell you to take care of your health and tell you to watch yourself when you fall sick
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star-farer ¡ 23 days ago
Text
bruises and bickering
Summary: Children will always find a way of getting into trouble AU: Ik'aad Taglist: @kybercrystals94 @fionas-frenzy @padawancat97 @margindoodles2407 @comfy-vember @dreamsight73
Comfy-vember 2024, Day 5: Saying their name
For the forty seventh time that day (but who's counting?), Hunter sighs.
“We told you to be careful, kid.”
Omega just shrugs, legs swinging as she munches on Mantell Mix. She’s barely concerned for a clone who’s just had her elbow scraped and bloody.
Kneeling down beside her, Tech winds the last of the bandages and throws Hunter a look that tells him this is all his fault. How precisely their resident genius figured that out is beyond Hunter. Last he recalls, it was Wrecker who was running beside her on their latest mission.
“Well,” says Echo cheerily, snapping the medkit close, “You know what they say: Like buir, like ad’ika.”
“Hey, wha’s that s’posed ta mean!” Echo only grins as he leaves for the cockpit, an indignant Wrecker hot on his cybernetic heels.
“It was rhetorical, Tech,” says Crosshair tiredly when the vod’ika in question raises his finger and opens his mouth in the manner that precedes information.
A shrewd glint of disapproving eyes is shot the sniper’s way past yellow lenses. “I am aware of that. However, I do believe Echo is right. Omega appears to be taking after our unruly ways.”
Crosshair snorts. “Our callsigns start with Havoc. Our ship is called the Marauder. And don’t get me started on all those ridiculous plans we’ve come up with.”
“Remind me who aided with the invention of said plans?”
A triumphant smirk tilts both toothpick and lips upwards at the edge.
“Wrecker.”
“You are incorrigible,” sighs Tech in exasperation, shaking his head.
“Are you surprised?”
“No,” drawls Tech, winking at Omega as he stands, which gets her smothering a laugh in her palm, “I suppose not. I’ve had to deal with your madness since I was decanted.”
“Yeah, which was a couple hours after I was decanted,” puts in Hunter with a grimace, “I nearly lost my hearing when he came screeching out the tube. You just got the scowl because he'd calmed down by the time it was your turn.”
“Wait," Omega blinks, "You remember all that?”
“Sure I do. He came out cranky and crying like always. With the tattoo and toothpick, of course.”
And even as he grins, even as Omega frowns up at him, squinting, he knows he’ll never fool a child as clever as his own.
“I don’t believe you.”
Crosshair huffs triumphantly, flicking the toothpick so that it grazes along Hunter’s nose. He holds out a hand for Omega to take. “This is why you’re my favorite ad. You’re smarter than all these di’kute.”
Two dry are-you-serious expressions are shot Crosshair’s way, and Hunter can’t help but choke on a laugh at the sight of his brother and daughter levelling the most deadpan stares he has seen in all his short life at his sniper.
“She is our only ad, Crosshair.” Omega nods with Tech’s observation, grabbing the bowl of Mantell Mix.
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone she’s your favorite ad too.”
Hunter clears his throat. “You know I’m right here.”
“You don’t count.”
“Rude.”
Flapping a hand his way, Crosshair gently tugs Omega along with him to the cockpit, stealing a handful of the Mix and earning him a laughing Hey! from the daughter in question as he pops them into his mouth. Tech, as expected, follows right after, resuming their argument about who-knows-what-at-this-rate.
“Hey ‘Mega,” calls Hunter, just before they step out the rear cabin. She turns, eyes bright and face open, bandaged arm still gripping Crosshair’s hand while the other wraps around the Mantell Mix at her torso.
He grins. “Make sure those two don’t kill each other?”
And she giggles like he’s told her the funniest thing in the world, one eye slowly closing in an attempt of a wink.
“No promises.”
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