#i also feel the need to mention that i made all the dialogue for this. essentially up on the fly?

[aggieharkness]

And in her arms, she cradled your heart Chp. 3

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader

Summary: if I ever lose you, lay me down beside you, as your presence was my life, and not having you in my arms will be my death. Dress me in your kisses and throw roses at my feet, for if I don't wake from this nightmare to your bright eyes loving me I don't wish to draw breath anymore.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, oral (Lilia receiving), fingering (Lilia receiving), tit play, nightmares, mention of blood, storms, pregnancy, age gap, magical conception.

Author's note: I'm back!!! I have risen from the dead and escaped the claws of academic life to drop this new chapter. I hope you all like it, and there is a reason why there are no dialogues whatsoever. Special shout-out to @bravewithacapitalb for being my Beta Reader and my medical advisor for this whole project. You are an angel. Please, do tell me how it looks, if you like it or if there are things I need to change. I accept constructive criticism, and if there's anything you might want to see in this story, don't hesitate to ask, I'll add it to the best extent I can. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Lilia Calderu, and Jac for writing her so beautifully.

Chp. 1 Chp. 2

Word count: 15K

Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"

It was odd with how much ease the crystal-clear skies had filled with clouds. The dark, calm veil of the night had been turned into a sea of thunder and lightning that ripped through the air in booming sounds that made the ground rumble. Their eclectic shapes and sharp edges sliced through the clouds, casting such bright lights high up in the sky that one would think it was morning already, but it was far from it. The loss of power all throughout that city was witness to the shadows that paraded through the streets when there was no sign of lightning in the sky. Pillars of buildings and houses shook under the strength of the thunder, a scream or two escaping mouths at the sudden noise, but they were drowned, forgotten, under the splendour of mother nature. At moments like this gentle tendrils of sage magic snaked around your limbs like silks that caressed your skin. Rain poured hard onto the ground, hitting the glass by the front door and the windows with such force that you had feared for a moment they might break, letting the cold air inside the house, but the thought vanished as if the raindrops were washing over you, falling on your skin in a perfect rhythm that matched your heart. There was no moon, no light that could bathe the room, but you weren’t scared of the creatures that hid in the darkness, their piercing eyes stalking, waiting to be let in; those beings lived in the depths of your mind and as real as they seemed to you, they were nothing but dust this time around. They could not claw their way out of your mind to haunt you and chase you, to make you feel terror and to make all those doubts that had rendered you almost speechless only a few hours ago real before your eyes.

They had tried though, and the last echoes of a nightmare you could not remember were beginning to dissipate with the rain. The only lingering image that was becoming blurrier with each passing second was that of Lilia lying in bed, pretty much like she was right now, her chest rising and falling in steady breaths under the covers, but her pristine nightgown had been a sea of blood and tears that still made you shake from your position by the kitchen window. You could smell it, that metallic stench that was engraved in the back of your mind, and yet the truth was that she was perfectly alright, sleeping peacefully. Another lightning strike sliced through the sky, filling the room for an instant with a bright white halo that granted you a moment, a second in time, to see her perfect face. Every inch of her olive-kissed skin was a fantasy for you, a forbidden fruit that you could not keep your eyes off, following the small wrinkles on her forehead whenever she frowned, might it be in frustration or concentration, that now were non-existent in the calmness of her slumber, the shape of her long dark lashes resting over her cheeks, those deep brown eyes of hers hidden behind her eyelids, your heart yearning every minute of every day to get lost in them. Every glance you got from them, every moment when she rested her gaze upon your frame or locked eyes with yours you felt as if the world had stopped spinning, the universe still as the breath in your lungs hitched. You drowned every single time in them. A sea of melted chocolate that enfolded you and held you as you felt your body fall down the abyss of her mind, every thought and memory laying bare before you as you drank her in, the calmness of her nature, feeling every sensation as if you were her.

It was dizzying, even now, to imagine yourself in that position, so close to her that you could feel the heat emanating from her body as you got lost in her big doe eyes that hid nothing from you. The shape of her nose was next in this journey you were making, elongated, slightly curved, and with the hint of a bump near the bridge. It wasn’t the usual button-like nose that every girl wished for, Lilia’s had personality, a beauty in itself that you adored with every fibre of your being, a glimpse into certain Mediterranean traits that you held dear in your heart. She had a nose that reminded you of your ancestors, of people you had cherished deeply until their very last days, people that you could only now visit through pictures in an old album that rested in a drawer under the telly. To a certain extent, and as weird as you were aware it sounded, every time you saw it, it reminded you of home. Every little thing she did reminded you of home. Her citrusy perfume took you back to the field of orange blossoms and summer by the coast, the way her hands moved with every single word she said as if that could give her speech a more emphatic aura as if the message could be understood better. People gave her strange looks whenever you were in public, but to you, it’s a most endearing quality that you wished she’d never lose. The light had grown dimmer as your eyes had moved to her cheeks, a rosy pearly tint over her skin that she had been carrying with her for weeks now, that glow that everyone talked about, you suppose, when a lady became with child. Either way, it enthralled you and captured your eyes before they moved on to her lips.

They were slightly parted, a thin line separating them as the plump flesh glistened under the last few instants of light, her lip balm adding a gentle translucent cherry tone to them. You had memorised the feeling of the soft flesh deep within your mind every single time you had shared a kiss, the taste of her a continuous lingering flavour on your taste buds, those rich honey tones that dripped thickly onto your mouth with each breath that ghosted over your lips, the sweetness sending a rush through your body every time, without fail. She breathed life into your lungs whenever she brushed them against yours, a smile creeping up when you weren’t looking as she observed how you worked when you sat on the grass sketching bumblebees that floated lazily in between the flowers. Smirks were also one of her best features, her lips curling lopsided whenever she snickered, whenever she tried to tempt you, your body falling under her spell without a fight. That mouth of hers was heavenly as much as it was sinful and every word that fell from her rosy lips seemed to always be laced with love and care, truths that she could not hide, would not hide. You were almost as taken by them as her eyes. You could not tear your gaze away when she spoke, watching how they moved, how her teeth bit down gently on her lower lip when she was busy doing tarot readings, her full attention on the cards, the way she murmured chants when she prepared altars and spells, hypnotised at most. But it was when they were pressed against your skin, on the crook of your neck, that you adored them the most, when she whispered sweet nothings as if your flesh would suddenly appear tattooed with them, forever engraved on your body for the world to see. It was maddening to think about those things when they rested slightly ajar in peaceful slumber before you.

The room was filled with darkness once more, but your eyes had adjusted well to the lack of light, and in the safety of the shadows, leaves, and branches waying under the force of the rainfall, it was as if you could still see her, clear as day, laying on your bed. There were small freckles painted all over her body, constellations that had fallen from the firmament and become flesh, the depths and secrets of the universe written in every inch of skin that you had ever cherished and kissed. You had followed them like a castaway in search of water, drinking in every story that was reflected on her flesh, every scar and wound that your lips had kissed, almost as if the memories attached could be soothed by that simple action. No matter how many times you looked at her perfect face it was as if beauty had just been presented to you, a Venus that walked the Earth, running away from the canvas where she belonged. Just a second later thunder roared high above your heads, the walls and windows shaking at the terrorizing sound, but Lilia didn’t stir, the emotions of the day having drained her completely, or that’s what you thought. In truth, she had been awake since you had got up, the sudden chill on her side and the feeling of your weight lifting off the bed calling her from Morpheus arms back down to Earth. She would have sat in bed and asked you what was wrong, but she sensed that you needed to be left to your own thoughts this time, even if she missed having your arms around her waist. She made no attempt to move or even open her eyes, but she could feel your loving gaze on her as the sound of the rain filled her half-asleep head, almost lulling her back into those dreams that had slipped through her fingers, and she could not recall anymore.

Your fingers ached to touch her, to feel that ever so soft flesh under your palms but you could not bring yourself to do so, afraid you might disturb her. When she was asleep there was no danger of gaps or visions overtaking her mind, pausing her life, even if it was for a moment, leaving her confused and upset in most cases, when she was asleep there was a whole world just for Lilia where there was no pain, no past, present or future haunting her every waking moment, only what her subconscious wanted. Dreams that you had many times wondered what they were, and if you were in them. If only you knew that every single one of them was shaped around, you. It did not matter the scenery; it could be a cottage in the English countryside, roses growing tall in the garden with an archway of violet wisterias making way to the blue wooden front door where a brass hand worked as the knocker, tall magnolia trees swaying in the chilly breeze. Or a small house in Siracusa, surrounded by water, lost in between cliffs of sandy tones as the outside of the house lay filled with plumerias and emerald green grass that flourished around the property, getting lost in the horizon. She could almost smell the salty breeze when she dreamt of it, and she could almost make out the sound of the small sparrows and see the seagulls tracing the outlines of the coast, letting her entire being be dragged deeply into those dreams that took her back home. The sound of the waves against the rocks still lingered in the back of her mind, calling out to her like sirens that wished for her to return to sleep, but curiosity peeked as she felt your eyes on her, and she fought against them to remain awake. Still, they swirled in between her thoughts like lazy fish that swam in between seaweed.

They left the taste of homemade coffee on her tongue, the floral perfume that mixed with the salty air filling her lungs as she stood on the edge of the cliff. Every single time she found herself there, barefoot, a deep navy dress embracing her figure as the breeze made it twirl around her legs, the warm sun bathing her skin with gentle beams in a way that she hadn’t felt in centuries. In those moments, safely tucked in the depths of her brain, she could live the life she had always dreamt of, no death or pain, only the sound of the sea and the feeling of the sun. And then, stepping out of the small villa you would appear, breaking her gaze from the sea before her, its deep blue waters crashing and swirling underneath the cliffs, your hair glowing under the bright golden light of day, your eyes shining as they locked with hers, a simple white dress draped over your body like strings of pearls on your alabaster skin. Part of her knew that it wasn’t real, but her breath still hitched in her lungs at the sight, the grass under her feet soft and cool against the warm breeze as she made her way to you, hands reaching for hands, lips begging for lips. Your skin always felt the same, soft under her palms, fingers interlacing in a grasp that she never wanted to let go of, your perfume overtaking everything else in her lungs. Dreams are such wonderful things and yet whenever her subconscious wakes up and the coast vanishes into a white fog, your face is the last thing that Lilia’s mind remembers before it all turns into smoke but there is no sorrow for what she had lost. When she opens her eyes the first thing she sees is you and all those moments shared in faraway places, the kisses that she could almost feel against her lips are still there, real in a special way, her eyes lingering on your peacefully sleeping form right beside her.

If only you truly knew what went on in her sleep. You would slip into her dreams with the ease of sitting in a chair to have a cup of coffee, highly doubting you would ever want to wake up, but those fantasies were hers to keep, secrets that she didn’t need to share with anyone but herself. In the darkness of the room the last few sounds of waves mixed with the storm in Lilia’s mind, the rumbling of the thunder startling her and causing her body to jerk slightly, maybe an inch, on the bed, but her eyes remained closed. She had a feeling you had her exactly where you wanted her, and she was curious to see why it was so. Your hands rested on the kitchen counter knowing that the darkness that had the entire city trapped in its claws protected your greedy eyes, roaming over her face one more time even if you could only make out the shape of her profile. In those two years you had been with her you had made it your mission to memorise her, to engrave her entire body with fire in your brain, every wrinkle above her upper lip, all the tiny, almost invisible freckles that were sprinkled on her skin, the lines around and under her eyes from centuries of both happiness and sadness pulling the strings of your heart tenderly every time she smiled. She had never tried to look younger; she knew how old she was, and it was never in her mind to hide it, after all, time passes for everyone and she was no exception, she simply let nature reach the point in life where she felt most comfortable in and stayed like that. Time brought wisdom along with it and it was unavoidable to add age to that mix. Lilia wasn’t one to let her looks guide her existence, there had been many other things that had worried her far more than her looks. But every sign reflected on her body that spoke about how she wasn’t a beautiful young girl anymore weighted heavily sometimes on her shoulders, the passing of the centuries leaving an imprint that nothing could erase. Your eyes kissed every spot that she had ever felt insecure about, your lips cherished the marks time had left behind, from scars to wrinkles, wishing to show her what words could not make justice to. Every inch of her body was as perfect as was her messy mind, as was her velvety voice and her caring words.

She had worried that the age gap might cause trouble, that you would not understand her, that her kookiness mixed with the half a millennium that she carried in her bones would make you change your mind at the slightest opportunity, but every morning she woke up in your arms, your breath warm against her shoulder blades she convinced herself a little bit more that you weren’t going to leave. You had seen her at her worst, screaming in terror as her visions took over her mind, tears burning her cheeks in despair and yet you had stayed, comforted her, held her and whispered sweet nothings to sooth her. You had taken care of her in those moments when she dissociated for hours, making sure she was never cold and ensuring she stayed hydrated even if Lilia’s reflexes were slow and taking a single sip of water was a herculean task. Still, you stayed. Every day you stayed by her, woke up and went to be with her in your arms, laughed at her jokes, cooked and cuddled on the couch to watch Colombo or Murder, She Wrote, and every time she glanced at you the small bubble of doubts and fears that had claimed her heart the moment you had agreed to go out with her, would become smaller and smaller. To you, she could be five thousand years old, and you would still love her no matter what, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health until death do you part. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall was drowned by the even heavier rain that poured outside, the water drops slamming against the glass causing you to turn around and watch mesmerised by the way it fell over the trees and flowers, flooding the grass but never reaching the kitchen door. It seemed as if the weather was angry, furious at the world, but you could not understand as to why, everything had been calm only a couple of hours ago, balanced, and now it was as if something was off, but it had nothing to do with you or Lilia. A flash of red crossed your mind, thick blood that dripped over the window for an instant before your eyes blinked and the crimson liquid turned back to crystal clear rain, your senses spiking only to quiet down again. Just as quickly as it had happened it was gone along with the feeling that something was wrong.

Perhaps those little creatures that plagued your mind were not as controlled as you thought. A quiet ruffling of fabric startled you, causing you to turn around to see Lilia turning on her side, sitting down on the bed as the covers fell in slow waves of her body, coming to gather around her hips, a strap from her white nightgown falling off her shoulder. You had not heard it, but a frightened gasp had escaped your lips at the sight of the blood, a hallucination you could not understand, and the gentle lazy curiosity that had wrapped around Lilia’s body had snapped quickly at the sound, worry filling her chest. You hadn’t even realised the way you heart had sped up for a few instants. Her curls framed her face, ringlets that caressed her cheeks, draping over her exposed shoulders in a veil of peppery curls that suited her and matched her dark eyes, contrasting with the pearly shade of her gown. Both her hands were pressed firmly on the mattress even if she was sitting on her side observing you, holding your gaze amongst the shadows of the room. Another bout of lightning sliced through the sky, white beams breaking in and bathing the room once more even if it only lasted a few seconds. The way it had enveloped Lilia’s frame in a mix of pearly white and pink hues, making her skin glow in a halo of beauty and magic had your breath hitched in your lungs, her eyes glistening for less than an instant under the light with a calm but worried look, asking without uttering a word. You could not help but take in the flesh that was exposed to the night air, her neckline long, creamy, and soft as your fingers twitched in need, small wrinkles and freckles hand painted with all the care and perfection of an artist, no necklace that kept her skin from your lips, an obstacle most days when all you wanted to do was kiss her senseless. She was not one to show off that much skin, her shoulders only dressed in thin straps, at least one of them, the other completely bare for your hungry eyes to feast on.

With each breath you took your body separated from the counter, taking slow steps towards her and Lilia simply waited for you to reach her. Beauty marks danced on her flesh, sprawled over her chest, plunging deep in between her breasts, over her shoulders and down her arms, spots on the back of her veiny hands, one of the marks that you loved the most. They were small, nearly invisible to the naked eye, but you knew every inch of her, and even as the light faded, and the room became bathed in darkness once more you could trace, and pint point to every single one as if your life depended on it. She was your lifeline, your protector and your saviour, and as your steps got you closer to the bed your thoughts pushed the last remnants of the nightmare and the hallucination to the back of your mind so only one could remain. She was not only the most important woman you had ever met, the one that carried your heart and loved you, with all your virtues and faults, but she was now also the mother of your child as well, and seeing her sitting there, so innocent, waiting for you to tell her what was wrong you felt your heart melt. No number of nightmares, of tears shed by your subconscious as Lilia laid in bed in her own world of fear and despair, your hands cradling her face in hopes of making everything right again, of taking her pain and making it yours so she would not suffer even if your heart was bleeding just as much, could compare to reality. They were just images that your own mind created to cope with the fear and terror of this new chapter in life, those horrible creatures that crawled inside your own head making everything ten times worse but Lilia was right there, her head slightly tilted to the side as her breasts spilled ever so slightly from the neckline of her nightgown, the lace cupping them tenderly. There was an irrational need to feel her under your palms, for your thoughts to realise that this, was in fact, reality and not just some fear-induced pantomime that would soon turn into horror.

Your knees collided gently with the edge of the mattress, and your hands, that had been writhing and toying in anxiety with the hem of your shirt, laid firmly on the bed now, guiding you in the dark as you climbed over the bedsheets towards her. What if everything had been but a dream? A desire so deep to be something more with Lilia, to take a bigger step and create something meaningful and beautiful with her that your own brain had tricked you in your sleep? She could almost feel the wheels turning in your head, the way your body trembled with the doubts and worry in that unique way of yours that she had grown accustomed to. And yet she did not move. Her deep eyes held your gaze as best they could in the dark, the sound of the rain fading to the background as your body got closer to her, your fingers brushing over hers accidentally, a motion that sent sparks up your arms, that sweet electricity that you could never get enough of. Her golden mixed perfectly with your sage, and that simple feeling, her skin warm and soft under your fingertips, assured you that this was as real as the moon, the starts, the sun and everything that surrounded you both. She was as real as the cold rain that fell outside, as the morning mist that bathed petals and leaves alike, small gentle drops that scurried down the smooth surfaces as the sun travelled higher in the sky until they fell and collapsed against the ground. Real as the bird songs that accompanied dawn and bid farewell at dusk, as real as the hands that cradled her face and the feeling of her warm cheeks under your palms. How could your entire world have shrunk to the size of the woman sitting in bed? She was the most important being in your existence, she had been for two whole years and you still could not fully comprehend the fact that she was yours and you were hers, a whole eternity before you to live beside her, to cherish and hold her and love her until there was not a single speck of air left in you. Your thumbs rubbed her skin softly, fingertips pushing solitary peppery ringlets away from her face as her breath became a bit more hurried, her bosom heavy under the white lace, her hands unmoving from where they laid over the covers. How had life granted you such a gift, a prize in a competition you hadn’t even realised you had assigned to, that day you had crossed her threshold the sweetest memory, the smell of incense and vanilla still vivid in your mind, the house now filled with herbs and citrusy aromas that floated in between chairs and shelves and that lingered on Lilia’s skin? Rich like spices, sublime like honey, and deep, so very deep and intoxicating as the perfect wine. She called to you with her eyes, with the way her lips parted ever so slightly as if she wanted to whisper a thousand secrets to you, and yet not a sound came out, only the feeling of her hot breath ghosting over your nose and mouth as your body bend forward slowly never steering your eyes from hers, letting her thoughts travel and dance among yours in a calming ritual.   

She saw your pain, your anguish as the last few blurry images of your nightmare fought to stay, to haunt you and break you inch by inch, and as the sensations wrapped around her, your mind pleaded to be released of such burdens. You didn’t want to think of her bleeding, crying as the child you both wanted and loved so much already parted from her body before its time, and you did try to keep that image away from her, not wanting to scare her or even terrify her, but she had pushed through, and you couldn’t help but give in. They played on a loop, your fingers digging on the side of her face hoping that it would not unsettle her, bring forth worries that she had not voiced as the news of the child she would in a few months’ time bring into the world sunk in, her own mind comprehending her current situation but her body didn’t shaky, unlike yours, the touch of her fingertips against your knees reassuring, grounding. Golden tendrils pushed them away, love and care melting them until there was nothing left but her comforting presence in your head, no more blood, no more lingering sounds of tears and sobs, no more thoughts of loss and grief. Breathing deeply as the grip of terror released you, your lungs filled with her perfume, clinging to her skin almost as if it was part of her, the sharp tinges of oranges and lemons cutting through the air and filling your body with her essence. Lilia knew how it felt to have demons chasing her, clawing at her at every waking moment, making her weak until she could only kneel on the floor in despair, and although you were no stranger to pain, she didn’t want you to suffer what she knew so well. You held her gaps and vision at bay whenever you were with her, loving her, whispering in her ear, and kissing her sorrows until they vanished into the ether; she was well accomplished on many branches of magic and dominating and transforming thoughts was one of them. The chaos that had unravelled in your mind stood still now, only silence in between your thoughts. Slowly Lilia had threaded her golden strings with yours, connecting each other as your own mind fought against you and now that your thoughts were tranquil, lazily floating around, you could feel her deep within you as the downpour happening outside became barely audible to either of you with each passing second.  

Her face was barely inches from yours and yet she made no effort to move from your grasp, the touch of her hands brushing your naked knees, your thumbs tracing the shape of her cheekbone before moving down to her lips, plump, quiet. Her hot breath teased the skin of your hand, but her eyes never left yours, not for a single instant, not even when the touch of your fingers travelled over her lower lip, smearing her balm. With barely time to think you pulled her towards you, crashing your mouth against hers in what started out as a gentle tender kiss to ground yourself, to put a final end to the questions that had overwhelmed you only a few moments ago, her body firm and hot under your palms, her lips soft and impossibly sweet, your tongue tracing and pushing gently against her mouth. She granted you access without a fight, willing to give you whatever you so desperately craved after what you had seen. She could have reassured you that it was not real, that everything would be fine, but it would have been futile, her words would have been brushed off as just that, words; you were someone who craved actions who believed that hands holding hands could do much more than a reassurance spoken in hushed tones, at least in these situations. Lilia though, was the opposite; she thrived in hearing you say that everything would work out, she held onto your every word as if they carried the meaning of the universe and you had both established an understanding that not many people would agree with. You only needed her, her body, her skin touching yours, her aroma and her steady breaths while she needed your understanding nature, your soothing loving whispers and all that went along with it. Thunder rumbled closer to the house, the windows rattling against the sound but to you both it was more of a soft noise in the background, hardly audible and therefore barely disturbing.

As Lilia’s lips parted your motions became more frantic, perhaps even needy, your tongue battling hers, tracing the outline of her teeth as your hands held onto her face a little bit more harshly pulling her even closer and holding her against you. The action, surprising, an air of control and desperation tainting every one of your movements caused a surprised quiet yelp to escape her but just as your lips clumsily parted from hers to bite down on her lower lip it melted into a moan that vibrated up her throat. It was hardly pain that Lilia felt, but the sudden discomfort as your canines left an imprint on her swollen lips sent shivers down her spine, delightfully drawing her completely awake, every one of her senses spiking as the darkness that enfolded the room, not even the flicker of a candle visible, made the feeling of your hands on her a most divine and maddening sensation. It was odd how easily a simple action such as the touch of your thumb over her jawline or your fingers brushing her curls off her shoulder to expose her neck would send her into overdrive. Part of her thought that maybe she should stop you, and talk with you about the nightmare but the logical part of her, the one that knew you and could read you like an open book, spoke to her in a reasonable matter. You needed her, and she would willingly give herself to you, every inch of her being, come rain or fog, hailstorms or earthquakes. Her body responded to your touch, aching for more than just tender brushes of your fingers, and as your thumb traced her lower lip once more Lilia’s hands travelled up your thighs, coming to rest on your hips but she didn’t pull you closer, simply let the feeling of the bare skin of your midriff under her palms satiate the ever-growing need she had for you, at least for the moment. A gasp nearly fell from your lips, but it never made its way out, your mouth falling in desperate kisses over the soft flesh of her jaw, a happy hum vibrating from her chest in approval. With each kiss a spark of electricity met your lips, shocking and yet delicious, not only her body luring you in, making you fall off the edge to kneel before her, cherish her and drink in her every move, her every sound and noise as if she was the only thing you needed to live, her skin your Bible, her body the only path you would ever walk, her every wrinkle a crossroad in which you would love to get lost on forever.

Sweet as honey and soft as silk her skin made you dizzy as with each kiss you journeyed down to her neck, that creamy column delicious as you licked, teeth scraping the flesh leaving red angry marks behind, but you never drew blood, not this time. A whimper echoed inside the room, falling from her parted lips as the grip on your hips became harder, the need to touch you and press you against her growing almost as quickly as the arousal that was burning through every cell. With a gentle lick you soothed the mark before continuing, tender pecks making up for the pain, not that Lilia minded. Lilia felt the way your fingers threaded through her curls, twirling without pulling, your other hand tracing the shape of her neck and chest, fingering the neckline of her gown. Lightning snapped high up in the sky, ripping the stillness of the clouds in sharp lines that bathed the room in white and pink, perhaps even a hue of purple that contrasted with Lilia’s skin and clothes, though you were unbothered by it. There was no need for light, your lips knowing perfectly well where to go to draw out lustful gasps from her, to make her hands shoot out to hold you in place, but it was beautiful to see that gentle pink hue painting her cheeks fading as her gown covered her body, hiding it from your hungry sight. Her brown eyes remained on your form for a few moments adoring the way you worshipped her, closing as your kisses reached the hollow of her neck, savouring the way she melted under your tongue, tastebuds drunk in the sweetness of her skin, completely lost as her chest rose and fell in fast breaths. Divine Mother, you just could not get enough of her, lips kissing and licking the swells of her breasts, your face moving with each breath she took, the grip on your hips almost bruising, but you needed more, you needed to have her underneath you writhing in passion, holding onto you as her world exploded in pleasure, remaining real under your touch.

The simple feeling of your fingers on the neckline of her dressing gown had sent a jolt of pleasure down to her core, her breasts heavy and ever so sensitive, now understanding that it was due to the pregnancy, but when your lips had made contact, kisses tender and gentle, your tongue brushing softly over her skin, she had not been able to prevent a moan from escaping her mouth, the sensations so deep that Lilia’s body temperature suddenly rose several degrees, fire coursing through her veins. Of course, the reaction had not gone unnoticed by you, remembering that Lilia hadn’t been able to use her lacy bras due to being incredibly oversensitive to the touch, a sign that should have given it all away really. With one last peck, you pulled away, watching how she had her head lulled back ever so slightly, eyes closed while her mouth remained ajar, her flesh flushed. Even in the dark, you could feel the heat of her body against your cooler body, the light of the storm having faded a few minutes before, encasing you both in shadows that burned in lust, that drove your mind into a hunger for her that filled your mind with a crazy haze. But your hands were still kind against her body, fingers pushing her peppery ringlets to her back as your other hand followed the lace of the neckline towards the strap that held the nightgown up around her body. As the pads of your fingertips caressed the skin under the thin string goosebumps rose all over Lilia’s body, watching mesmerised the way your hand pushed it off her shoulder, the flowy fabric of her gown moving like water over the shape of her breasts, lace brushing over her nipples as the straps slid down her arms, a gasp reaching your ears like an angels song, the material gathering around her waist, leaving her perfect upper body bare for your greedy eyes to devour, sinful thoughts filling your head as her arms moved to be released from the gown. The worry and terror that had taken you hostage was barely a memory, Lilia’s hands holding onto yours as much as her magic kept your chaotic mind at ease.

Bare before you all you wanted to do was bury your face in between her breasts and never let go but then again you would not see the ecstasy in her eyes, the love and pleasure that poured out of them like rivers of dark chocolate that overwhelmed your tongue and drove your mouth to taste her with renewed fervour, and you most certainly wanted to hold her gaze as you brought her to the edge and back, accompanying as she fell into the abyss of pleasure and passion that you had brought back into her life. The sight was simple divine, sublime as your eyes raked over her form with very little discretion, devouring every inch of the now exposed skin as if you had never seen it before. Without support her bosom sagged a little but that didn’t deter you from bending forward and placing soft kisses on the top of each breast, your lips casting featherlike touches on her skin that sent her mind reeling. Perhaps you were teasing her, she thought, but the look of utter devotion in your eyes proved otherwise as you sat on the heels of your feet to observe the way that gorgeous blush of hers had made its way down her chest and into the valley between her breasts, hidden underneath her ample bosom that rose and fell with each breath, taunting and desperate for your touch. Noticing how lost you were in your own dreams and ideas of what you would do to her she took the next step for you and grabbed the hands that rested on top of her thighs, covered by her nightgown and blanket, and brought them to her waist, a little bit higher if you were being honest. The back of your hands brushed the soft skin underneath her bosom, sending a shiver down your spine that matched the goosebumps on Lilia’s skin, swollen lips parted as she tried to push air into her lungs. The way her body molded to your hands, to your tender touch around her ribcage, was grounding, feeling her heat, scorching your fingers though you never wanted to let go, the rush of blood in her veins, the way her magic bubbled under her flesh like rivers of gold. A little voice inside your head wondered if maybe you should try to explain why the sudden need to have her but as much as you parted your lips to speak nothing came out.

There was no need though. Lilia understood, your silence confirmation that that nightmare had shaken you to your core more than she had realised, and as her eyes raked over your perfect face, hating the way your eyebrows furrowed as you flagellated yourself for not being able to voice your fears and worries, she took matters into her own hands. She would take care of you for the time being, until you were ready to regain control. Her movements were slow, and deliberate as she traced the shape of your forearms with her fingers, trails of fire left behind as her hands held onto your upper arms and shoulders. It came naturally to her to care for others and as the minutes clocked by, the storm showing no signs of stopping, it was easy to want to comfort and love you, her touch kind and gentle as she cradled your face in her hands, drawing you closer until your face was barely an inch from hers. Your life had changed completely in a matter of hours, a whole new future displayed before you as if you could choose, as if Lilia’s well-being and happiness rested in the palm of your hands, but it was an illusion. You didn’t have that kind of power, and it terrified you to think how different things would be, that dangers you had never even thought of were now your worst enemies, terrors and monsters that could in the blink of an eye take her and your baby from you. A single tear fell down your cheek, bitter and cold against your skin and it took you both and her by surprise, not thinking that this fear ran so deep within you, afraid that her solid body would fade into nothing under your palms. It broke Lilia’s heart to see you so lost, worry painting your features when only a minute before lust had cast shadows over your face. The lonely crystal drop was wiped by her thumb, the gesture comforting in a way that you could not describe, the feeling of her breath on your lips assuring you that she was alive and well and that she would remain so for as long as she could, a peppery curl escaping from behind her ear and coming to caress your cheek, the softness of her hair a perfect companion to her caring touch.

Having her so close you could count the freckles on the tip of her nose felt as if you had both feet firmly planted on the ground all of a sudden, whiffs of lavender from her shampoo clouding your mind in an exquisite fog that stopped the shaking of your trembling frame. In slow motion the gap between you vanished and the instant her lips landed softly over yours your entire world melted on her tongue, her fingers ripping from your veins the terror that was festering in your blood, with each caress. She didn’t ask for your parted lips to grant her more than what you could give, never begging and never pushing, letting you feel her as deeply as possible, her presence in your mind like a warm bath after a long day, removing your pains and aches as the heat of the water surrounds one’s body. You felt the way you sagged against her touch a little, your hands sliding down to her naked waist as her lips barely separated from yours. Thunder roared all around you but neither of you reacted to the loud rumbling noise, barely audible as your ears filled with the sound of your blood pumping through your veins, throughout your system in rushed beats that fought against your ribcage. Lilia’s fingers never lifted from your skin, not once, as she unbuttoned your shirt, the cotton fabric opening slowly to reveal miles of creamy skin, her doe eyes raking over your figure as if you were the most exquisite thing in the universe. It still caught you by surprise the way her gaze could be so wild, and unabashed when she observed you while also carrying that veil of love and adoration you thought only you felt for her. It was breathtaking to say the least. Inch by inch a sea of alabaster flesh became exposed to the dark of the night, her hands resting over your hips as she took you in, pulling you closer to her until your chests were barely a few inches from each other. The heat of her body surprised you as it radiated of her and collided with your cooler frame, and for a moment you wondered if she had a fever or if she was going to combust in your hands, flames burning and scorching your hands but even then you would never let go. You would be consumed by fire with her for all eternity if that meant remaining by her side.

Finally, skin came into contact with skin, Lilia’s nipples, stiff and slightly enlarged, brushing against your chest as her hands did quick work of your shirt, pushing it from your shoulders until it rested on top of the mattress, your hands having to let go of her for an instant so you could escape the garment. It was torture to not feel her firmly beneath your palms, her softness the most exquisite caviar in the world, rich like brandy, sweet like wine, and so utterly intoxicating that it left you dizzy when she took the chance and pulled you hard against her, your hands flying around her shoulders to stabilise yourself. A gasp had fallen from your lips, sliding down Lilia’s chest and hiding between her breasts almost as if a string of diamonds had graced her flesh, but you hadn’t realised, lost in the way her heart beat beneath her ribs. You could feel it pounding at a steady rhythm, strong, brave, and powerful and with each beat your anxiety vanished a little bit more, your brain understanding for the first time tonight that she was alive, your mind comprehending at last that it all had been a product of your overtired imagination. True, it had hurt more than words could ever explain, the sorrow and despair at seeing Lilia in that position while not being able to do a thing to help her, take her pain away and return to how things were before, slicing through your heart over and over, bleeding inside your chest, the tears that had fallen from your eyes bitter and venomous to the point where you had felt your own flesh decaying and rotting in grief, but it had only been in your head. There hadn’t been blood on the bed, nor screams and pleas for help, no death claiming your love and snatching her and your beloved child from your grasp with a cruel, brutal smile. The remnants of your nightmare were nothing more than a memory of feelings and sensations now that Lilia had worked her magic to vanish the images from your mind, but you knew very well that even though it no longer resided in your head, the feelings would still haunt you, driving you into a minor insanity every night if she wasn’t there to calm it all.

With her in your arms, basking in the heat of her flesh and the puffs of breath that ghosted over your neck as her lips kissed the soft skin, your mind became blank, not a thought in sight. Maybe Lilia was aiding you in forgetting, on living the present and letting go of the past, or maybe it was you who preferred to give yourself to the feeling of her, solid and real, beneath your touch, either way you were grateful that the terror was transforming back into a visceral need to become one with Lilia, the feeling of want clawing its way back to your heart. Your fingers twisted her curls lazily, brushing them away from her naked shoulder as her head moved underneath your jaw, your nails leaving angry marks over her perfect skin as a hiss escaped her mouth and collided with the crook of your neck, vibrations travelling down to your bones. That gifted tongue of hers licked the sensitive skin around your pulse point, savouring the slightly spicy tinges that lingered on your body from your gel and lotion, maddening on her taste buds as her craving for you increased exponentially. The grip you had on her shoulder hardened, nails digging into her skin in an almost in a painful manner, but that didn’t stop her from sucking lightly and drawing out a moan from deep within your chest. Without you even noticing your body pressed harder against hers hoping she would double on her efforts, but it only caused her to stop, her frame shivering as your skin brushed against her breasts, sending a jolt of pleasure and a hint of discomfort down her spine. Her forehead rested against your cheek, pants puffing out of her mouth as she tried her best to control the feelings that overwhelmed and took over her mind for a moment, but you didn’t give her a break. The hands on her waist pushed her away from you until she was sitting in bed staring at you, face flushed, and a questioning look in her beautiful brown eyes. Leaving fiery trails behind your fingers made their way upwards, Lilia’s breath picking up in anticipation until the back of your hand brushed underneath her breasts, her breath hitching in her lungs at the sensation, head lulled back as her fingers wrapped around your wrists to hold herself up. 

She had bewitched you, your mind and body under a spell you would never break, your lower lip between your teeth as you simply watched her. She made no effort to stop you, and as curiosity took over you cupped her bosom in your hands, plump flesh heavy and hot on your palms as they overflowed in between your fingers, clearly too big for your hands. The touch was borderline torture for her but as soon as the pads of your fingertips squeezed gently, aware that they were more sensitive than usual, listening to the way her throat groaned and gasped at the feeling, deep oak orbs hidden behind eyelids as her eyes closed. She could have either cum right there and then from that simple gesture or set herself aflame in a passionate fire, burning from her core all the way to the tip of her toes and top of her head. Her reactions were a little bit stronger than what you were used to hearing from her, after all, you had barely touched her, but the way her lips remained ajar, trying to push air into her lungs as her features contorted in pleasure, you felt your confidence growing and your touch becoming a bit sturdier. Squeezing a bit harder Lilia’s body vibrated at the guttural moan that echoed against the walls, almost as loud as the rain that still banged against the walls and windows of the house, like daggers that tried to pierce through the glass. She was going mad, feeling every wrinkle of your fingers on her skin like electricity coursing through her veins, sparks practically dripping from your hands onto her breasts, but as much as she was loving this, part of her wanted more and since her fingers were still wrapped around your wrists, she pressed your hands closer, squashing her own bosom with your palms. To see her like that, shivering in pleasure and desire as your thumbs caressed the skin, toying and teasing the plump flesh without fully touching her rock-hard nipples made your need for her greater, and without complaint your lips latched onto her completely exposed neck.

Lilia had no other option but to let go of your arms in this new position she had found herself in, writhing on the mattress as your ministrations reached a new fervor, kneading the flesh tenderly as kiss after kiss you mapped the entirety of her neck, from right under her jaw, teethe scrapping the sharp angle to the hollow of her neck, sucking and licking as if your life depended on it. From her rose-petal lips groans and gasps fell continuously, a moan or two escaping and disturbing the train of sounds when your grip on her breasts became a bit harsher, sending a jolt of discomfort and pleasure in a perfect mix down to her core. Not in a single moment did you lose control of your actions or attempt to take things in a more rough direction, knowing perfectly well that now that she was pregnant and well until she was ready after birth you would not engage in something that could hurt her or the baby, both of them your whole world and priority from now on. The world could be on fire, buildings collapsing in a thick dust of smoke, rubble covering the roads and pavement, food scarce and danger hiding in every corner, you would never let them get hurt, going without eating for them, without sleep and putting yourself in harms way so they could be safe. You would take all the things Lilia could not do and carry them for her, on your hands, your arms, on your back until your knees hit the floor, all for her and the baby because you could not fandom a world in which you were alive, and they weren’t. Lips journeyed over her collarbone, reaching her right shoulder first where your mouth pecked each freckle you could see and remember, hands pushing her breasts higher, a strangled cry ripped from her throat at the touch of your thumb over her nipple, at last, placing her hands on your hips to steady herself, pants mixing with the constant rhythm on the rain. Lilia didn’t notice the way your entire weight was beginning to push her back onto the bed, her legs still under the covers feeling the heat radiating from your bare thighs as her back arched slowly, but your lips never left her body, kissing your way to her left shoulder, pecking and licking over her collarbones once more and leaving wet spots behind that cooled Lilia’s scorching skin.

It was utterly intoxicating and addicting to touch her like this. Every twitch and movement of her hips drove you to take her, to nearly give in and simply blow her mind but that was not what you wanted. With one last swipe of your thumbs over her nipples you released her breasts gently, a hiss escaping her parted lips as the heaviness of her bosom returned to her, your hands resting on her ribcage, on the sides of her body, to finish pushing her back on top of the mattress. Her perfect curls were spread on her pillow, wild and framing her flushed face while also being fanned over the silky fabric, and as your eyes raked over her body, positively sublime, all you wanted to do was thread your hands through her hair as you to took her to the heavens. Featherlight touches travelled down the sides of her abdomen, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps behind that had Lilia’s pupils blown wide, no more melted chocolate to bathe your body in, only a pool of lust that had your brain in a haze. Reaching her hips you were met with obstacles in the form of cotton covers and the rest of Lilia’s pearly nightgown and in a rapid but soft motion the blanket released her shapely legs, calves and sculpted thighs picking from the hem of her gown now that there was no barrier tainted with faded flowers. The bedding clung to her perfume, no matter how many times you washed it her essence lingered, overwhelming your senses and fogging up your mind, though you could not find it in you to protest, loving the way the aroma of your beloved wrapped around you and kissed your skin every night when you closed your eyes and every morning when you opened them. With your hands resting on the arch of her feet fingers rubbed circles on her skin, parting her legs slowly so you could kneel in between them, the bed creaking slightly as the weight shifted and you settled yourself before her.

Inch by inch your touch travelled over her shins, bending her legs as your body bent to place a lingering kiss on top of each of her knees, drinking in the feeling of every muscle you could trace with the tips of your fingers, strong underneath your palms while she also remained soft and tender, her every curve a perfect and delicious sight. Lighting struck once more, sharp, perhaps even brighter than the previous ones, filling up the room with white light, a translucent hue of pink bathing Lilia as if she was glowing, her hands holding onto the sheets underneath her as her chest rose and fell rapidly, anticipation and a touch of desperation lacing her every breath. A groan escaped your throat as she was illuminated in the light of the storm, flesh pink, her body nearly naked before you, her eyes simply devouring you, not blinking afraid that she might miss the way your gaze fell on her body as if she was the oxygen you breathed, the water you drank and the food that you ate, as if she was a glass sculpture that needed to be in case, crafted by angels to be forever beautiful, eternally adored. Your palms continued on their journey, the path ahead clear, the roads almost free of obstacles as you reached her thighs, taking the time to move your fingers to the soft skin of her inner thigh, basking the way Lilia’s breath caught on her throat, her knuckles nearly white as her grip became stronger, daydreaming of how your fingers would feel on her, hands and lips everywhere. It was only for a moment, to tease her as a smile made its way to your lips for the first time that night and at the sight she just could not stay still, she needed to see it closer, to feel it against her skin to know that you were alright, that you would be perfectly alright as she held you close in her arms. Taking hold of the nightgown that had bunched up around her hips you pushed it down a little, exposing less than an inch of her hipbone, but Lilia understood the signal perfectly and she lifted her ass off the mattress to let you push the garment down her legs and throw it at the foot of the bed.

Another bout of lightning struck the sky, getting closer and closer as the minutes ticked by, but it meant nothing to you, not when Lilia laid completely bare before you, toned legs and dizzying curves leaving you breathless. Perfection seemed too weak of a word to describe her, her soft body complimenting her nurturing and caring nature in a way that you could not quite understand, hands resting on her bare hips as your body hovered over hers, but your grip on her didn’t last more than a few seconds before Lilia was taking your hands and pulling you to meet her face, your smile never faltering, not for an instant. To keep your full bodyweight from pressing against her your elbows rested on either side of her head, fingers playing with random locks of peppery hair as her hands cradled your face, her touch kind and tender on your cheeks, eyes glued to the way your lips stretched in that soft smile that reassured her just as much as it made you come to terms with it all. Nightmares can’t hurt you; they can’t become truths or make you bleed in despair when reality rests beneath your body looking up at your eyes as if you were an extension of herself, completely enamoured by your looks, by your brain and every single bit that made you, you. She pulled you closer, expecting to feel her lips on yours in an instant but it wasn’t so. Your forehead came to rest over hers in an intimate gesture that you cherished with every fibre of your being, feeling just an ounce of what was going through Lilia’s mind, experiencing what she felt as if you were under her skin, love pouring out of her like a waterfall even if in truth she was barely moving, eyes closed as she breathed in your aroma, engraved deeply in her lungs. All you wanted to do was to stay like this, skin on skin, feeling every inch of her body pressed against yours as if there was no air, no gaps to separate you, the index finger of your right hand tracing the shape of her ear, travelling over her jawline until your palm laid flat on her cheek. If time could stop, if either of you could pause it all, the entire universe, in the blink of an eye, you wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, no rain or thunder compared to the sound of Lilia’s breaths, of feeling her heart beating as if it laid next to yours, her touch tender and kind.

Slowly her head lulled to the side and her lips claimed yours in a kiss that started out as a waltz, sensations controlled, movements delicate against your mouth, but soon it became a tango, passion making its way to her tongue as she traced your lower lips with its tip, begging you to take her, to claim her and who were you to deny her? The heat in the room spiked as tongues battled, your lips parted to grant Lilia entrance, the fire that had burnt steadily in your core now blazing, overtaking your mind for a moment as your hips pressed against hers, feeling just how your actions had affected her. A groan slipped from her mouth to yours, swallowed as thunder crashed almost above your building, loud and cracking, floors shaking as the sound echoed all throughout the city, but your ears could only hear Lilia. Your mouth could only taste Lilia. As you separated after your lungs began to beg for air, an unnecessary commodity, you thought, claiming her mouth once more not a second later, Lilia whimpering now that your hands had let go of her face and rested on her hips, snaking down to her ass. The way her arms wrapped around your shoulders was instinct, keeping you in place and scratching the back of your neck and scalp with her short nails, red streaks left on your alabaster skin. The ball of her feet rubbed your calves as her legs bent around your hips, tempting you to press yourself harder against her centre, but you refrained, wanting to savour her whole body before you could even entertain the thought of tasting her delicious nectar. Parting from her lips, sweet pants brushing your skin as Lilia breathed in rapidly, your mouth followed an invisible line that started at her left cheek, wishing that gorgeous pink blush could leave an imprint on your swollen lips, marking you with her beauty.

Peck after peck the road led you to her jawline, sharp like a knife, your tongue tasting the thin layer of salty perspiration that was beginning to cover her exquisite skin, sparks of electricity colliding with your tastebuds as the gentle licks became harsh kisses, the first stages of a hickey forming right underneath the juncture of her jaw and her neck. She was delicious, a most sublime mix of sweet and salty that left your brain begging for more, craving her and all the sounds that dripped from her lips, thick and velvety as honey and laced with lust. Moans could not describe the way your lips sucked on her pulse point, not the way your hands squeezed the flesh of her ass, the imprint of your hands red on her creamy skin, but there was just no other sound that could make you understand that all the things you were doing to her, as little or as big as they might be, were maddening. No matter how many times you travelled all over her body, from the wrinkles on her forehead to the smooth flesh of her legs, you just couldn’t get enough, mapping her every curve as rivers of pure passion, every beauty mark as unexplored crossroads, her taunt abdomen a vast plateau of bright green grass that swayed in the breeze with splatters of daisies and lavenders. Her thighs were canyons with no end, an abyss in between them that you fell in every time, her breasts mountains that you climbed with your bare hands, tasting the springs of crustal clear water that emanated from them as your mouth latched onto the ample flesh. Every time you made love to Lilia, her cartography changed, adding new landmarks you hadn’t seen before, rewriting others to give them the details they deserved, never ceasing your exploration, never faltering in your ministrations. Trailing down her neck, olive-kissed skin exposed for your eyes only, your lips could not help but kiss and taunt the smooth flesh, getting drunk on her state and the sounds of her gasps each time your teeth scraped her collarbone, or your tongue licked the hollow of her neck.

Making your way to her chest, your mouth had barely kissed the sweel of her right breast when her breath caught on her throat, hands digging onto the back of your head, nails nearly drawing blood. In a string of gentle kisses, your mouth traced the invisible outline of the top of each breast, featherlike touches sending shivers all over Lilia’s body, the crackle of magic loud in the air that floated inside the room, almost matching the way the lightning strikes were slicing through clouds and rain continuously now, thunder approaching and crashing onto the ground fast. Her sternum was just as sensitive, moan after moan coating your ears as you worked, your nails scratching the skin of the back of her thighs hard enough to leave red trails behind but gentle enough that you weren’t hurting her, the stinging pain you were causing with your hands mixing perfectly with the pleasure your mouth was giving her. Snaking underneath her bosom you proceeded to deliver a gentle suck, the skin smooth and hot as your tongue licked it, and in return a sharp intake of air followed by a guttural groan escaped Lilia’s body, her frame shaking in anticipation of what was to come, your mouth tasting the smooth flesh around her nipple in painstakingly slow laps of your tongue. You were sure her nails had dug into your skin, perhaps even drawn a drop or two of blood but that pain was more than welcome by you, her presence and reality confirmed not only by her lingering sweetness on your taste buds, but by her touch of your skin, harsh and yet tender, fingers never faltering as they twirled your hair. Without warning your lips curls around her nipple, sucking gently as your tongue twirled the stiff peak around. A loud cry rained on you, her hand pulling on your hair while at the same time she pushed you closer to her, every nerve ending in her system on fire, melting her and surrendering her completely to your touch, not that she would have denied you her body at any point, her hips buckling against yours in an action-reaction response to the way you were sending sensations all over her body she had never though possible. Her cries only escalated in pitch as one of your hands released her thigh and began to knead on the plump flesh, your mouth never stopping and moving faster and faster to see how much Lilia could take, the feeling of your teeth biting down on her nipple being the limit.

The moan that ripped from her chest held a tinge of hurt and discomfort that you picked up on quickly, and with a tender kiss on the side of it, you moved on to her other breast, her breaths coming in such hurried pants that you wondered for a moment if what you were doing could send her over the edge before you could bury your face in between her legs. You wouldn’t have been wrong. The fire in Lilia’s core was so strong and hot that with each touch, each vibration from your own groans and whimpers her orgasm was being built higher and higher, a skyscraper at this point, and it never slowed down, your mouth delivering each puff of hot breath and each lick of wet saliva as if you had it all calculated. She writhed underneath you, begging with each gasp for you to either take her completely or to send her over the edge already, doubtful of whether she could take much more of you sucking and twirling her nipple in your mouth, each breast as sensitive as every nerve within her. And then you let go. Her hands fell on top of the mattress as she tried to control her breathing, her mind hazy and her sight blurry even if the room was practically filled with light continuously, thunder rushing all around like a bomb, the bed rattling slightly as you kneeled to observe her. That pearly rose tint her flesh had developed throughout the night had moved on to a bright red, small bruises forming on her neck, and the shape of your fingertips on the plump skin of her bosom from where your hand had kneaded the flesh, taking in the way her legs trembles on each side of your hips, breasts bouncing ridiculously fast, almost as if she was fighting hyperventilating. Every sensation coursed through her veins like the wind in a hurricane, sweeping her off her feet and making her float in a haze of pleasure and desire that hadn’t quite reached its breaking point, not that it was too far away, but as your hands caressed the sides of her ribcage all the way to her hips her heartrate began to drop, beat by beat.

There was no control over the storm outside, rain pouring as if it was the end of the world, fast and angry, drowning the ground and filling the air with the sound of each droplet smashing against walls and windows. But as loud as it was it could never overshadow the way Lilia responded to each of your touches, not even now that your mouth had travelled south down the road of her body, stretch marks greeting you as your kisses lingered on her smooth abdomen, small and curvy, perfect witnesses to the beauty of a woman, the thin lines, lighter in the white halo of the storm, wrapping around her hips and vanishing in the juncture between her pelvis and her upper thighs. There would be more as the child grew and Lilia’s body adapted to house it, skin molding to the baby’s every need, and part of you could not wait to see them as your newborn laid nestled on Lilia’s chest, held protectively by her arms, a sign that she had done and survived one of the most dangerous tasks ever laid before a woman: bringing life. Thinking of what was to come, of the risks she was taking made your grip on her hips harder, your forehead resting for a moment on her to simply feel her, steady, the flow of her golden tendrils deep inside her caressing your troubled mind into a calm reassuring sea. Under her skin that sparkle of magic always lingered, called out to you to meet it and mix your own young sage power with it, letting Lilia’s wisdom vanish your doubts when you didn’t think you were good enough, to feel her love in everything she did and was, including this sweet kisses that her powers delivered onto your warm skin, like a warm blanket in the dark of a cold winter’s night, like kisses shared on the doorstep of the shop when you bid Lilia goodbye to go to work. All you needed was to be with her, to hold her in your arms, and then nothing in the entire universe could ever go wrong. As you savoured the way her magic cradled you, her hands tenderly pet your head, her fingers threading between locks of your hair as her breaths became slower, you felt something deep within her.

Pressing your lips on her lower abdomen you were surprised to sense that same spark of magic you had both felt earlier that day floating so strongly underneath her skin and muscles. It was like static at first, a tingling that travelled lazily from within her to your lips, but as the seconds went by it grew stronger, moving onto a bright electricity that held you in place, almost as if it didn’t want you to leave. In a haze your mind filled with the sensation of comfort and safety, golden and silver clouds of dust suspended in a vast black universe, all surrounded suddenly by veils of green, like a nebula that was forming inside Lilia, unique and forever eternally levitating under her heart. It was clearly a mix of you both, colours and branches of magic tenderly dancing around each other, but inside that cosmic explosion of life small streaks of white moved in between each of you, a sign that what you were sensing and seeing was your baby, yours and Lilia’s child happily held by the two of you, content to be able to feel you just as much as you could feel them. You wondered if Lilia could sense it, if perhaps with time she would see the beauty, and if you had lifted your head, even for an instant, you would have seen the way her eyes were closed, sharing that moment with you, stars sparkling, all the futures your baby could have presented to her and yet her mind not wanting to see them. She basked in the way your hands gripped her tighter to you, never wanting to let go, but soon the baby grew tired, too small to remain awake for you to feel, and like a lightbulb it’s light dimed until it laid dormant once again, golden dust cradling white matter as it rested, your own sage particles, wide and full of life, embracing them both, a world of galaxies and stars sparkling before your eyes. Lilia’s body was still affected by your ministrations, but she didn’t push you to meet her needs, cherishing this moment with you even if part of her wanted you to carry on, knowing that you needed this more than she needed to let the coil of pleasure that had built explode and release all the endorphins that had accumulated in your whirlwind of passion.    

Lips met skin, and as you peppered her flesh with kisses, taking in every hum of approval that rumbled in her throat, the corners of her mouth lifting in a kind smile, her hands carried on caressing the back of your head. Slowly you managed to slide lower, her pubic bone and the short grey curls that adorned it brushing and tickling your nose as you planted a kiss over them. Lilia’s breath hitched in her lungs, the calmness that had trickled inside her veins moments ago walking side by side now with the desire you had shared with her, a transfusion of love and pleasure that lazily pumped throughout her system. With your arms underneath her thighs and the palms of your hands pressed against her hip bone your kisses journey to the end of the line, taking the longer route as the smooth skin of her inner thigh laid beneath your kisses, ever so soft, not a blemish or spot in sight, pure as snow and valuable as pearls, platinum melted on your tongue as the storm reached its height, lighting and thunder battling in the sky in an angry tango while Lilia gave her body willingly to you, no questions or expectations ever leaving her lips. Your teeth didn’t hesitate to leave as many marks as you wanted, ruining her perfect creamy skin with each nibble and bite, sucking hard until a purple tone began to spread instead of the angry red, moans vibrating from her chest; all the bruises and hickeys her oversensitive chest and breasts could not take. Satisfied with the impressionist painting you had created on her, your own rendition of the “Water Lilies” made by Monet, each bruise a flower floating in a perfect sea of calm currents that was Lilia’s sublime flesh, you were finally presented with the most beautiful work of art. Pink folds draped in waves before your eyes, glistening with an arousal that nearly dripped down onto the bedsheets, the salty smell of her filling your lungs and overwhelming your senses, your mouth watering at the sight of her so utterly open and ready for you.

With your thumbs circling the skin between her pelvis and her inner thigh, shivers running up her spine, Lilia could not help the breaths that came in hurried puffs as her heart sped up once more, beating hard against her ribcage to a point that she almost feared she might collapse even before you got started and then, all of a sudden, the universe became to a halt. One long lap of your tongue all along her folds, gathering her sweet juices and drinking them in, had her big brown eyes rolling to the back of her head, the gentle grip she had had on your head now hard as she pulled on your hair, a stinging sensation on your scalp that you didn’t mind. Her lips were ajar, letting the most intense and sinful noises fall past them, dripping almost as loudly as the rain hit the windows. You were gifted, a genius that moved your tongue from side to side, up and down, curling and straightening the muscles all over her, her juices sliding down your chin in transparent rivulets that you didn’t have the chance to gather with your tongue. Her legs trembled, muscles quivering as she pushed your face closer to her, and who were you to fight it when you wanted to have her on top of you, beneath you, inside you, and at the same time wrapping her every limb around you, to be with her and part of her, one and the same. Flicking her neglected bud in quick succession for a moment had Lilia arching her back and fighting to lift her hips, your hands pressing her back onto the mattress to keep her still, the heels of her feet digging into your lower back as high-pitched moans and grunts accompanied the ever louder thunder, lightning beaming over her sweaty body like a pearly veil that dressed her in transparent silks, skin glowing, hair sprawled over the pillow in matted mess of curls. She moved her head from side to side as your tongue worked wonders on her clit, completely unafraid of being loud and unapologetic of the way you teased and lapped at her, knowing perfectly well what things she liked and what things she didn’t, opting to abuse those spots that drove her insane.

Rain became hail, loud and so very close to shattering glass as it landed harshly over windows, cars battered under its force out on the streets, matching in strength the way Lilia’s arousal was close to reaching its peak, building higher and higher with each stroke. Your right hand released her hip, sliding under her thigh and coming to touch her hot centre with two fingers, coating them in the arousal your mouth could not take, sliding up and down slowly, teasing almost, to make sure that she was more than ready before parting her folds, that smell that was so characteristic of Lilia, sweet and spicy, citrusy even, enfolded in a cloud of rosemary incense seeping from her every pore. The tips of your fingers entered her carefully, eyes watching over her pubic bone as her head was thrown back over the pillow, chest rising and falling rapidly, fighting through the lust and the desire to fill her lungs with air. She felt your fingers filling her up, inch by inch until you were knuckles deep inside her, the coil in her abdomen almost ready to burst, a tingling sensation spreading through her limbs lazily, like a warning of what was to come, and as you began to move them, slowly at first, she could not believe how diligent you were in your ministrations, the care and work you put on making sure she felt good at all times. It almost brought tears to her eyes. Placing a kiss on her clit your tongue proceeded to return to her folds, fingers picking up their pace, curling slightly until she was nearly screaming, nonsensical noises falling from her parted lips as your ministrations increased. She was so close, you could tell, her arousal dripping all over your hand and chin, velvety walls clenching around you as her legs began to tremble. In a perfect combination of nature and desire you gave one last suck on her clit, grazing the swollen bud with your teeth softly as your fingers went deeper, the tips hitting that spongy spot that released it all. Like a bomb, Lilia arched off the bed, screaming as loudly as the thunder above the shop, lightning eclectically coursing both through the sky and through her every nerve, spreading electricity from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, numbing and at the same time setting every inch of her skin aflame.

Her hips buckled against your hand and face, your tongue lapping and drinking every ounce of her juices that dripped out of her, your fingers never slowing down their pace as she rode out her high, the grip on your hair harsh and strong to the point where you thought she might have pulled a strand or two right out of your scalp. Lilia could not think, could not help but thrush around messing the bedsheets as her orgasm washed over her like ripples on the ocean surface. There was nothing calming about the way the pleasure took hold of her mind, a thick fog clouding her every thought and common sense as starts danced over her eyes, hidden behind closed eyelids. After what seemed to be hours to the both of you, Lilia’s body began to calm down, falling back on top of the mattress, completely spent, as your fingers slowed down to let her adjust to her release. You could have carried on, it would have been easy to bring her to the edge over and over, but this wasn’t a race to see Lilia falling over the edge continuously until she passed out; you weren’t sure why the visceral need to see her come undone beneath you when you could have simply let her hug you and try to fall back asleep, but your mind certainly felt gratitude at seeing her like this before you. Her breaths came in pants, pushing air in gulps into her lungs as she felt your fingers still their movements at last, the trembling of her legs stopping after a moment, the hand that had been resting and holding her in place over her hip bone now caressing gently the skin of her inner thigh, travelling all the way to her knee and back in a rubbing motion. It was comforting to feel you like that, delivering sweet pecks on the skin of her leg as her body finally came down to the land of the leaving, her hands releasing your hair and flopping back on top of the mattress deliciously spent. As her movements stilled you managed to pull out of her, earning a displeased whine from Lilia that made you smile tenderly as her eyes lazily opened up to see darkness once more, the storm having melted into nothing in the matter of a few minutes, rain falling gently against the house as you moved your body over hers, hovering until your face came to meet hers.

Even though there was no more light in the room she could still make out your relaxed face, the way you held her gaze with a semblance of love that embraced her form as much as your hands caressed her cheeks. There were lingering veils of pleasure over her gorgeous eyes, but if you moved past them, chocolate intoxicating your palate along with the taste of her, the world laid bare before you, the answers to every question you had ever had, presented in Lilia’s hands, waiting for the right moment for her to hand them to you. There was no more fear, no more terror that tried to pull you into an abyss of despair, only the memories of her alive under your touch, responsive even now, her tired arms snaking lazily around your back, as you lips tenderly pressed over hers. She didn’t push her tongue more than was necessary, a quiet moan vibrating from her throat as she tasted herself on your lips, not because she didn’t want to return the favours, but because you made no attempt to continue things. You hadn’t even released the way your body had been running partially on adrenaline until you felt a mild ache on your limbs, forcing you to lay on your side beside Lilia, one hand taking hers and intertwining her fingers with yours while the other never left her cheek, her body turning to face you. She could have talked, she could have asked you what had happened, what you needed or if you were alright, but it would have served no purpose. Words were superfluous to either of you right now, unnecessary as shadows hovered and clung to every corner, the early hours of the morning creeping in the horizon, her eyes reading your body language as if you were an open book. A burst of wind could snatch the reassurances that would fall from Lilia’s lips before they reached your ears, leaving you troubled and scared, voices inside your head overshadowing every comforting word until they were barely whispers among your demons. Actions, though, could do what entire books could not.

There was barely a gap between you and her, and never, not even for a moment, did she recoil from you or pull her hands away from yours, feeling the happiness and calmness of your mind. There were no traces of the images that had disturbed you so intensely not that long ago, only the thoughts of her heart beating strong and steady under her ribcage, and her lungs, breathing clouds of warm life that with its tender touches caressed your face, filled you mind with the truths that she was alive under the palms of your hands. Nothing could ever take her from you, and that simple thought would have been more than enough for you, her perfect face holding your loving gaze as the gentle sounds of the rain began to lull you both to sleep, but to have also felt the baby so strongly beneath Lilai’s skin, meeting your kisses with sparks, had caught you off guard, not realising how much you loved it already, nearly as much as you loved Lilia. Your legs were interlaced over the blankets, the hand that was neatly held by yours laying close to Lilia’s chest, the steady beating of her heart a melody so sweet to your ears that you could never get tired of hearing it. Perhaps it was temporary, this happiness that had overcome everything else, but for the time being you were more than content to be able to go to sleep with Lilia in your arms. She pulled you closer to her, the ruffling of the bedsheets filling up the quiet air that floated in the room, and wrapped her arms around your frame as your head nestled on top of her chest, ear glued to her skin in the perfect position to count the way her blood pumped through her veins and each one of her breaths. As the clock on the wall ticked away, Lilia’s perfume filling up your lungs, her fingers caressing the back of your head and the skin between your shoulder blades, the rain became nothing more than a drizzle, silence echoing against the walls after hours of raging sounds, a perfect metaphor for the insanity that had overtaken your mind and the way Lilia had washed it all away. Your eyelids became heavy, the warmth that seeped from her skin enfolding you, and as your body fell into the arms of Morpheus, sleep claiming your tired body once again, Lilia placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head as she wrapped the tousled sheets over the both of you. It would take her a bit longer before sleep claimed her, the last tinges of pleasure still clinging to her skin, but she did not mind, it hadn’t been the first and it wouldn’t be the last time her slumber run away from her but at least this time she had a good reason to remain awake. Moonlight peaked from in between grey clouds, its silvery beams the first steady source of light the city had seen for hours, breaking through the kitchen window as it brought peace woven in between them, Lilia’s eyes never straying from your relaxed face as the pearly rays kissed your skin, her golden magic keeping you safe and protected. Nothing would ever harm you as long as she was round.

[iscopeee]

my null playlist is finished yayayayay

(warning for loud and glitchy sounds through most of these songs. it's NULL what did you except lol)

yapping about my song choices/reasonings for way too long under the cut

ok as a preamble a lot of my song choices here are for the interpretation that NULL is a real person trapped inside the game, which for some reason seems to be a controversial take for some people from what I've seen, so I feel the need to explain why I think that (also i'm just using this as an excuse to infodump lol). skip this next paragraph for the song reasonings if you dgaf

so basically i've seen a lot of people being like "UM well NULL licherally says he ISN'T a person trapped in a game, so of course he isn't, duhhhh 🤓" which. I don't wanna be too harsh considering how much of this game's fanbase is literal children but characters are in fact capable of being untruthful. the way I see it the fact that NULL randomly says apropo of nothing "oh nooo I'm TOTALLY not a real person trapped in a game haha, that'd be RIDICULOUS lol" (suspiciouslyspecificdenial tvtropes dot com) immediately followed by explaining that he "can't talk normally" and has to be "vague intentionally" because "some stuff is classified" combined with other hints he gives of his speech being censored by the game in later dialogue makes it clear that he obviously can't directly say what he is. the fact that he's using reverse psychology to get around the game's censorship seems pretty clear to me. (there's also the specific word choice of him calling the idea of being trapped inside a game "ridiculous" when he also describes himself as "ridiculous" earlier in his monologue but that's a bit of a stretch lol). The lake image clearly showing NULL standing by a lake in the real world is another obvious hint to NULL originally being a real person as well. his pain is neverending LOLLLLLLL (this isn't shitting on ppl who have different interpretations of NULL obviously!!! in his own words he's "vague intentionally". this is just my thoughtz :3)

ANYWAY onto da music YAY

UZUMAKI - Machine Girl -

very erratic/glitchy sound obviously. also themes of cycles, feeling trapped in negative spirals, hopelessness.

hand crushed by a mallet (N0THANKY0U remix) - 100 gecs -

any version of this song probably would have worked but I chose the N0THANKY0U remix for the compressed sound which seemed the most fitting. the themes of grief could tie into NULL's longing for his old life but I mainly chose it for these lyrics which are very NULLcore methinks

"I don't want you to think I got bad intentions/Never wanted you inside, you made it your mission, yeah/Didn't wanna hurt no one/But you just went and made it fun"

"I'll never go, I'll haunt your studio/You won't think of words when you write at all/You'll just hear me singing this song/You'll think that's okay, you'll just sing along"

i love this song ^_^

Final Transmission (The Living Tombstone remix) - Temporal Walker & [voodoopony] -

more glitchy electronic sound, as well as the lyrics being about a man getting in over his head and stranded away from his old life. regret as he realizes he's beyond the point of no return. maybe being trapped inside videos game is just like suffocating to death in space.

maybe he knew something that we didn't/staring at the mirror with a different kind of vision

Couture - Epsyle -

he's stuck on this fucking planet. he's stuck on this god damn earth. not much else to say for this one

The Mind Electric - Miracle Musical -

maybe a cliche choice for a character playlist but idc :P picked the distorted version for obvious reasons.

this pick is mainly about the power the game (?) holds over NULL (the whole censorship thing i mentioned in the preamble and the mentions of things being "classified" and "not being allowed" to do certain things in his dialogue) and the impact this must have on his mental state.

Child Protective Services Theme Song and Action Winter Journey - Nero's Day at Disneyland -

lumping these two together because both lack lyrics for me to go over. both have a very erratic, almost desperate feel to me. as the glitching which goes without saying at this point

BTSTU - Jai Paul -

WATER IMAGERY 🎉 also feelings of angry determination and of feeling lost

Cabinet Man - Lemon Demon -

i fully admit this one is a stretch buuut it's Guy Trapped In Video Game. I kinda had to lol

computer vision - sunsetcorp -

a gentle nostalgic sound is quickly cut short by dizzying electronic noise. the imagery is obvious i think

TIME STAND STILL - sunsetcorp -

feeling trapped in time. forced to stay in one place and reflect on the past endlessly by being trapped in an outdated game (I'm looking back) and being unable to progress forward and make meaningful change by destroying it and escaping (but I want to look around)

angel - sunsetcorp -

the death imagery appearing at the end of the playlist. The end of NULL style is approaching. more feelings of being trapped in the past.

END OF LIFE ENTERTAINMENT SCENARIO #1 - sunsetcorp-

the death imagery is even more blatant now. the past is looping in on itself. Escape is impossible now.

NULL tries in vain to calm himself to stop the worst from happening. One, two, three, four...

cemetary 4 - osno1 -

It's too late.

[volivolition]

Is the Wip game finished? Can I still ask for stuff? If I still can, can I get a snippet from the one that give me the most rot (meet the parts)? If no, then I'm just swinging by to say hi how are you doing? <3

HI RED!! thank you for swinging by, im doing better than earlier!! my ear is getting better and im eating pizza :]!

okay so TECHNICALLY it's no longer wednesday, but i LOVE spoiling my fics so of COURSE you can have a snippet from Meet the Parts hkjh <33 you are always free to ask anytime, i will always be happy to share bits of my stories <3 AND SINCE THERE'S NO RULES I CAN SHARE MORE THAN THREE LINES!! here's like, a whole React Speed thing i just wrote :]

LOGIC – Along with Coach and Sparks – Flighty and Fingers too, I suppose – they're why you have trouble sitting still for long periods of time. The attention deficiency disorder... Or are they exacerbated by it? I still haven't figured out which is the cause and which is the effect...

REACTION SPEED ��� Point is, we got zoomies! Can't sit still. Always more to do, more to see, more to say.

YOU – "Are you why my leg is always-"

REACTION SPEED – Bouncing, yep! Fingers tapping, hands flapping, feet moving, words flying- hey, if you had wings like me, we'd never be touching ground.

YOU – "You have wings?"

KIM KITSURAGI – He jots this down with an interested hum.

REACTION SPEED – Yes! Books, what- which animal–

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] – You have the hovering wing type of trochilidae – hummingbirds, colloquially – with their ability to rotate their wingspan at the shoulder and elbow joints to create maximum lift. However, though you exhibit some iridescent feathers associated with the birds, your wings also connect to membranes, which share the Voronoi tessellation of the species anisoptera, the common dragonfly.

REACTION SPEED - Yeah, exactly! I'm a hummingbird and a dragonfly. Both of 'em. :)

[wildflowercryptid]

honestly, i've broken down and need to romance sam again so i'm starting a remake of my switch sdv file on my computer.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Since you mentioned this in an earlier ask, what is your take on feminist Leona? I see people saying things like "consent king" "he drinks his respect women juice" and "leona kingscholar says men ain't shit" but I think those are mainly jokes but I've also seen a lot of for example Leona x reader fanfics where he's a lot nicer to femme Yuus than masc ones. I don't play the game so I don't know how much of a feminist he really is, could you clarify and give your own insights? Ty Miss Raven!!!!!!!

[Referencing this post!]

Admittedly, I am guilty of having made “consent king” jokes but that’s mainly because I think consent + respecting others’ autonomy is very sexy important and it’s slightly funny to have a 185 cm muscular anime cat boy championing the concept. However, I try to avoid making jokes which would imply Leona puts down his own gender or thinks lesser of them because 1) canon doesn't indicate this and 2) it can be hurtful to non-femme Twst fans. Yes, most of the fandom is women--but that doesn't mean we shouldn't make this fandom space welcoming for masculine or nonbinary Twst fans.

Let's delve into a brief history of where feminist!Leona comes from! After that, I'll discuss my own thoughts and feelings about it.

The idea first came into prominence because of an exchange that occurs in Cater's School Uniform vignette. In it, Cater is trying to convince Leona to join him for a party that he's throwing for Rosaria, one of the talking paintings at NRC. At first, Leona refuses--but he quickly changes his tune once Cater mentions Rosaria is a "she/her". Leona states, "Portrait or not, I respect ladies and Rosaria is a lady." Cater then whispers to Kalim (who is shocked that Leona suddenly agreed to come along), "Leona's kingdom is all about being respectful to ladies."

It should be noted that Leona says something slightly different in JP: “Even if it’s a portrait, a woman is a woman.” JP does not have the “I respect ladies” portion; “I respect ladies” was added to EN, which may have further amplified the interpretation that he is a feminist.

Now, as we learn from that vignette, the Sunset Savanna has a culture of "respecting women". In Leona's Ceremonial Robes vignette, he elaborates that, “[Beastwomen are] already way stronger than [beastmen]." Furthermore, Ruggie states in one of his Chats that “Girls have both the grit and the camaraderie to triumph when the goin’ gets tough.” Then, in events like Tamashina Mina and late in book 7, we are told that many of the royal guards are women who volunteer for the positions and it's common for them to have learned martial arts from a young age. From this dialogue, we can glean that the women of Leona's home country are physically strong, strong-willed, and honorable.

With that being said, I think certain interpretations of Leona's "feminism" (a term not actually used by official materials; this is a fandom take) definitely take it a step too far by either assuming Leona treats woman as a special class and/or he dislikes men. Both of those interpretations (if serious and not said as a joke) are owed to a fundamental misunderstanding of what "feminism" is. Feminism is "the belief in full social, economic, and political equality for women." Feminism is NOT misandry (a hatred of men), and nor is it female chauvinism (the belief that women are superior to men)... unless, of course, you're talking about very radicalized forms of thinking. The basic concept of feminism doesn't involve man hate or putting women on a pedestal.

Twst itself appears to go with the basic definition of feminism. As Leona himself states, he doesn't treat anyone special. "I ain't extra nothin' to nobody. As if [women] even need men fawning all over'em."

Leona, whom we know to be arrogant and unwilling to obey others' orders, appears to be more willing to listen to and carry out tasks if there's a woman involved. I already mentioned the case with Rosaria the painting (which proves that his "respecting women" thing extends beyond just beastwomen from his home country). In his Ceremonial Robes, he also grumpily puts on the aforementioned robes and takes a picture of himself in it upon the request of his sister-in-law. But--and this should be stressed--he's not exactly jumping for joy or eager to do so. Instead, Leona cites that "Goin’ against [beastwomen] only brings more trouble.” This indicates annoyance at having to carry out this chore, and gives the impression that Leona's only complying because not doing so would only overcomplicate things for him. He's not an idiot--he knows when to make a strategic retreat if it's going to save him time and effort in the long run. (For example, he immediately surrenders to the Ferrymen in book 6 rather than continue to put up a fight.)

I should note that, like in the earlier definition of feminism I shared, Leona does not simply bend the knee to every single woman. In the first Halloween event, he was still capable of scaring off the Magicam Monsters (some of which have distinctly female voices) without any qualms. He was still fully able to express anger and upset when Eliza, the Ghost Bride, smacked him. "You've got a lot of nerve turnin' me down over some nonsense!" He's also not above tricking the Fairy Queen and her entourage to steal back the special magestone from NRC.

This shows us that Leona doesn't just... "respect women" indiscriminately. If someone is going to be rude and selfish to him, he's going to respond as is appropriate. He's not going to turn a blind eye because of the offending party's gender.

In terms of Yuu interactions (assuming Yuu can be any gender), Leona acts pretty aggressive towards them in their first meeting. Even though it's clearly an accident and Yuu didn't realize they stepped on his tail, Leona is annoyed by the act and them walking away without apologizing or stopping to acknowledge him. He also makes it known that Yuu is magicless, and thus has no way of defending themselves from him. And you know what this man does? He says, "Well, can't say it'd be much fun to hurt someone so helpless. Still gonna do it, though." AND HE THREATENS TO TAKE A TOOTH. His wording, "No one gets to stomp on my tail and just walk away without payin' the price" + him still deciding to attack Yuu desite knowing they are weak/cannot fight back, implies to me that he may have still reacted this way regardless of Yuu's gender. (Key word: MAY. We don't know if this is the truth or not, I am leaving this up to your interpretation.)

Notably, there is a light change between EN and JP versions for Yuu's dialogue choices in response to Leona's threat. The EN dialogue options are far more humorous, but the JP options clearly convey fear (ie Leona is being serious about his threat of bodily harm). The top option is like noises of surprise, like "Eh, eh, eh!!"; the bottom option is along the lines of, "What, I'm going to be hit/beaten!"

There are, in fact, multiple instances where Leona acts callous towards Yuu. He refuses to let Yuu stay in Savanaclaw unless they earn their keep by beating up some mobs. He constantly degrades them by calling them and others he considers weak "herbivore". He has to be goaded into helping us or taking us along on trips instead of automatically caving. It could be argued that he would be more agreeable or polite if fem!Yuu was in these scenarios. And who knows, that might be the case--but again, I don't think he would be egregiously kind. I would like to point out a more direct example of a Leona-fem!Yuu interaction. Leona has interacted with a female Yuu before: Yuuka Hirasaka, our main character for the Episode of Savanaclaw manga. There's some debate over whether or not the NRC students know that Yuuka is a girl since the topic is never mentioned once, but I assume that they are aware because: 1) Yuuka makes no effort to hide her figure or chest; she even wears her blazer open, and 2) she has no motivation to hide her gender; she is capable of defending herself if needed and has a nonchalant personality. Proceeding with the assumption that Yuuka being a girl is a known fact, Leona does not treat her any differently than any other student.

Yuuka seems to experience the same tail-stepping scene as is depicted in game, although we don't see the aftermath of it/if Leona gives her the same threat.

The more telling scene for Yuuka, however, comes when she and her friends arrive in Savanaclaw to investigate. They are confronted by a bunch of mobs that start to pick a fight with them. Like in the game, Leona intervenes (ie he doesn't stop the fight just because Yuuka is a woman) and has them duke it out in a game of spelldrive/magift instead.

And you know what? Leona doesn't hold back just because he's playing against a woman. In fact, he kicks Yuuka's ass and then some. Then he stands over her and tells her to get back up, to keep playing. Leona isn't cutting Yuuka any slack whatsoever. He treats Yuuka the same as the boys she's playing with.

This brings me to my final prominent example of Leona interacting with a woman, which I think best exemplifies what my interpretation of Leona's "feminism" is. In the JP server's 2024 Halloween event Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas, Sally indicates that she plans on making a meal using the plants from around the cemetery. Leona is at first displeased by this, but then agrees to help her catch snakes, rats, lizards, etc. as meat for the meal. This leads into a conversation about how sad Sally's home life is, which earns her sympathy from the other NRC students. Jade, Riddle, and Epel are shocked at the cruelty that Sally faces. Jade volunteers to take the doctor out for Sally, and Epel even tries to convince Leona to help him rough up Dr. Finkelstein. But Leona just smirks and tells them Sally's not in any need of their "help"; isn't she the one who slipped the doctor a "drink"? Riddle scolds him for this "ungentlemanly" behavior and Epel refuses to believe that the "kind Sally" would do something like use poison. Leona was able to smell the deadly nightshade on her and deduce that Sally slipped some to her guardian and then slipped out on her own. She's not a damsel in distress--she's resourceful. Sally used her brains and not brute force to rescue herself from a bad situation. (We know that this would deeply resonate with Leona because he has been struggling his entire life to have his own merits recognized.) Leona praises Sally for her cunning and goes so far as to offer her his arm and tell her that he's looking forward to this evening's dinner.

In this situation, could it not be said that Jade, Riddle, and Epel were the ones assuming Sally is weak that Leona was the one who saw her true worth? I'm of course not accusing anyone here of being sexist. Society socializes us to see women as the "fairer sex" in need of protection and aid--but isn't Leona being more equitable by not underestimating Sally because of her gender?

That brings me to my conclusion. Leona respects women, no doubt about that. However, that's NOT a blanket statement. He clearly knows how to separate who is worthy of his respect and who isn't, and then he acts accordingly. Yes, he is polite, slightly softer, and more willing to listen to women he knows (his sister-in-law), women who haven't offended him/are just existing (Rosaria), and woman who have demonstrated their own strengths to him (Sally). He doesn’t become a completely different character just to bend to the whims of women. Those who have acted in ways to earn his ire, woman or not, will be treated as such (Magicam Monsters, Eliza, even Yuu when they/she enters his territory and/or steps on his tail). At the same time, I don't believe he thinks that women are delicate flowers that need special treatment (as we see with how he handles Sally + the Yuus and, more specifically, Yuuka). If anything, the women from his home country have demonstrated that they can be strong and self-sufficient. Why would he feel the need to go out of his way to be extremely lenient with the women he is around?

Lastly, nothing in official materials implies Leona treats men significantly worse than women. If he seems exceedingly rude to men, it’s most likely the result of the main cast (the characters Leona most often interacts with) being guys. If we were to compare how he treats his peers and how he treats women who have irritated him, I would say the behavior isn’t that different.

I know that was a long post but 😅 Hopefully I was able to articulate my thoughts well enough… May you find it helpful in forming your own opinion, Anon!

[blasphemousclaw]

ok I keep seeing takes that shadow of the erdtree fumbled the hornsent because they made them too unlikeable and unsympathetic and enabled all those “total hornsent death” weirdos but I wholeheartedly believe that the writers have been portraying the hornsent sympathetically from the very beginning. like just because the story spends time on the darker aspects of hornsent society doesn’t mean that it’s arguing that Marika and Messmer were in the right? in fact I think it’s pretty obviously arguing the opposite? 

some of the first sights you’ll see in the Shadow Lands are the scorched ruins, which are surrounded by hornsent grave markers — wooden stakes each with a horn affixed to it, horns being seen as sacred objects in hornsent society. the victims’ shades (by the look of them, ordinary people; farmers, merchants, and laborers) can be found wandering around the Shadow Lands and are often non-hostile; they can be found kneeling, weeping, stacking small stones, or clasping their hands in silent prayer.

there’s a courtyard in Belurat completely filled with hornsent graves, and it’s also the place where Queelign invades you… the sheer number of graves here is horribly sad, and the fact that Queelign attacks here even after all those people were killed honestly makes him seem like an absolute monster

just look at this menace. knocking over the graves of the people he murdered. shame on you Queelign

further into Belurat there’s a very small, missable room where you can pick up the Dried Bouquet talisman: 

“A quaint bouquet of dried flowers, offered to a small grave. Raises attack power when a spirit you have summoned dies. The sorrow that flows from the untimely demise of a loved one is a tenderness shared by all, regardless of birthplace.” 

this description is pretty directly saying like, “hey, these people are human beings just like you who grieved the loved ones they lost, who couldn’t sympathize with that?”

my personal favorite examples here are the scorpion stews, which are given to you by Hornsent Grandam after defeating Divine Beast and wearing its head: 

Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. Traditional meal of the hornsent. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores HP. Once made with love by a certain elderly woman for the family table. Having long gone cold, this soup gives off a rank, sour smell.” 

Gourmet Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. An exquisite dish chock-full of mouth-watering scorpion claws. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores a great amount of HP. The thoughts and feelings of the cook melt and blend into the stew, but those who can distinguish the taste of love are few and far between. "Partake, partake, until thou art sated.”” 

how can you claim that the hornsent are dehumanized when grandma literally cooks you a traditional hornsent meal made with love!!! how heartbreakingly sweet is that!!! especially with the dialogue you get from Hornsent if you share the stew with him:

“What’s this? Do you think me in need of alms? Ah… but this dish. Tis fare o’ the tower. I remember fondly this kin-clad scent. …Brings back memories I’d all but forgot. This, by my troth, is but a dismal copy. Indeed, I think it rather plain to see… things once broken can never be the same.”

we’re presented with the image of a delicious traditional meal that hornsent families used to cook and eat together, and then we remember, Hornsent Grandam is all alone, she has no one but us to cook stew for, and Hornsent has no family anymore to share his stew with. 

before wrapping this up I want to mention Leda’s dialogue about the hornsent because I think it describes the situation pretty well (surprisingly well maybe, given what she’s like): 

“Long ago, Queen Marika commanded Sir Messmer to purge the tower folk. A cleansing by fire. It’s no wonder the hornsent holds the Erdtree in contempt. That aside, man is by nature a creature of conquest. And in this regard, the tower folk are no different. They were never saints. They just happened to be on the losing side of a war. But it’s still a wretched shame.”

the hornsent were not a perfect society. far from it. but no society is perfect, and the hornsent need not have all been saints for what happened to them to have been wrong. no person has the right to act as judge, jury, and executioner for an entire civilization of human beings. if people want to take the very worst of hornsent society as representative of their entire population and argue that every single one of them deserved to die then I’m afraid that’s their problem, because the game absolutely does not agree with them

[twstedstoryshop]

FINALLY, I return properly. Kind of. Reason I've been away for so long was because of insane convention season and also had this bad boy in the works. This is one of two commissions done for a friend. Hope you all can enjoy yourselves for the crumbs I produce. -SK

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, violence, depressed s/o, and mentions of toxic past relationships.

Your New Boyfriends Runs Into Your Ex

While Rook Hunt was one of many to find camaraderie in a den of villains, that didn’t mean chivalry was dead to him. Certainly not him.

Under his keen gaze, he knew that when a certain topic was broached, you would shy away instantly. Paled knuckles, a panicked gaze, and your bottom lip near to splitting open by how badly you chewed down.

It was like he was seeing a rabbit or deer caught in a trap, frantic with no escape. Though his heart had been trained to a perfect steel and not feel for his quarry, when he sees that look in your eyes, all defenses fall away.

The topic? Well, the worries of what the future held for you. Moreso in far off days. Would you continue to have your friends by your side? Would someone ever cherish you? Have a deeper connection?

For Rook, it was a no-brainer because of course! Who else was more worthy of adoration and praise than his dear petite grâce? As he would declare this in all his usual grandeur, a small smile would form on your lips, but that happiness never reached your eyes.

Doubt clouded that sweet gaze of yours. In its own way, seeing such clear eyes be veiled by sadness was heartachingly beautiful. Yet it was a beautiful scene Rook couldn’t bear to behold for too long.

When it came to keeping track of you, Rook was extra considerate. If one can call it that… In his mind, he kept careful track of those you interacted with. He watched your mannerisms, your dialogue, anything amiss he would file it away. But for the longest time, it didn’t seem like an outside force was troubling you.

For a moment, Rook considered that whatever wounded your heart was a scar from a distant past he had yet to uncover. What he didn’t expect was said wound abruptly appearing on a normal day.

From a vantage point, perhaps from a second story window or among the trees that dotted the campus, Rook had caught sight of you stone-still on your walk. Before you, an NRC student he couldn’t recall. He didn’t really have time to register the man when Rook had just attention all on you.

Your wide, hollow eyes. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. How you froze so perfectly under the gaze of this man. It was a scene Rook was all too familiar with. Prey terrified beyond its own mind to run, to hide, or even fight.

Your rational mind couldn’t comprehend what your ex was even saying to you as panic held you in its overbearing clutch. The world grew dizzying and just when you felt like your heart would give out, right then and there, a broad arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Ah, there you are, ma petite grâce. I was looking all over for you. You made me a bit worried, you know!”

It was hard to look up at him as Rook’s hat was tipped just enough for the shadows to mask his features. But your ex needed only one glance for the role of prey to be forced on him. Green eyes with a gaze so sharp, so precise like a notched arrow perfectly aligned to fire, bored right into him.

It didn’t take much time before the ex backpedaled away with his tail between his legs, now only leaving you with Rook.

Rook would face you, gripping your forearms firmly. His expression, soft though. He called out for you, trying his best to snap you from your daze. When you finally realized it was him now before you, your body moved on its own before you could think. A heaviness made you fall against his chest. You shivered, maybe tears and sobs escaping you.

Rook held you so close against him. Like he was cradling a sculpture of the most delicate porcelain. As if one scratch or knock would crumble you into fine dust.

A single hand held the back of your head protectively, letting you weep as much as you wanted against his shirt. His chin nestled along your hair. You would be so blissfully unaware of Rook’s gaze. A complicated stare into space as his mind swam with many thoughts.

Rook always found beauty in the oddest of places. Yet for the first time, there was something Rook found utterly detestable. A vile image that was a blot in his picturesque vision and that was your ex, the source of your pain. But from that ugliness, he did find a most exquisite sensation. A drive to hunt. An unyielding need to protect you.

While he couldn’t spring into action earlier, his quarry was marked. A hunter is patient and he can wait as long as he needs to for one slip-up, one more attempt to dare get near you, and Rook would be sure to let loose a vicious arrow.

There is a tension between you and Floyd on certain days. While most times, it would be all fun and games, just him and his little Shrimpy. But Floyd wasn’t blind to the weight you carried.

It would irritate him on a dime when you obviously had thoughts clouding your mind. So much so that you fidget anxiously or not even pay attention to him. His sharp voice would call over the din of thoughts and you’d see the eel practically inches away from your face.

His dual colored eyes glared at you and a slight frown pulled at his lips. “Geez, what the hell is goin’ on with you!?” He doesn’t mean to be so crass, but to see his Shrimpy unsettled, it frustrated him. 

Moreso that he can’t exactly pinpoint what was going on with you, that he can’t just squeeze it to a pulp and boom, no more problems!

He knew you had your walls and such walls took time to lower to let him in. Floyd had the patience as a waiting moray eel, but if he had the proactiveness to actually act upon his patience? That’s a whole other story. When it came to you, he just wanted to see you happy and unbothered. All reasoning would flutter out the window.

It may or may not have taken a lot of squeezing and thinly veiled threats to your friends for them to fess up information you couldn’t bear to unload on Floyd. A common name would be passed around, an ex from your past. Just the thought that someone else had their hands on you nearly made Floyd break bones if not for the pitiful yelps of your friends to release them in time.

Questions whirled in that skull of his. Why have you never brought this up to him? What did this ex do to you that made you shy away from him? Where was this scumbag now? All of these worries would bleed into his daily life and if it weren’t for Jade and Azul to straighten him out, he would have been throwing tantrums left and right.

It wasn’t until one day that all his frustrations would come to a boiling point into a final, satisfying crescendo. At least for him.

Work was to be done at Mostro Lounge. Floyd was on duty to be a waiter along with yourself. Both of you have opted to be in an awkward silence in your relationship and it was evident by how you both avoided one another, unsure of how to really talk about your issues.

Floyd had taken an order from a particular student, one he could easily sniff out as a rude bastard by his mannerisms and his tones. But if Floyd’s temper got the better of him, he’d never hear the end of it from Azul. He would hand off the order to you to at least serve drinks.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly a glass shattered. All eyes shifted to you who shivered in place. The tray rattled in your hands and below you a cascade of broken glass.

“Y-you…” “The fuck…? What the hell are you doing here!? And look at what you did to my drink! You’re still incompetent as ever, tch!”

You wanted to cry, scream, run away. You felt so ashamed, being treated like garbage again from an ex you swore you’d never let walk all over you again. But at the height of stress, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up for yourself. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic…

That is until a sing-song, nonchalant voice slid right up behind you. “Ahhhh, what a shame. I apologize on the behalf of our lil waiter here. They’re just nervous is all. Here~ Why don’t I make it up to ya? I can serve ya a drink right here, right now. On the house~” “Finally, some decent fucking service…”

You looked up at Floyd and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes. How his pupils honed on the poor fool as his smile widened so tightly across his face. He reached for a spare glass that was left on the table, presented it with a flourish to your ex, and coyly said, “Readyyyy~? Watch carefully.”

Then, his hand flew so quick to grab a clump of your ex’s hair and slammed it squarely on the glass. The crunch of glass, your scream, and the screech of chairs being pushed back as patrons jumped.

“GYAHAHA, YOU LIKE IT!? IT’S MOSTRO LOUNGE’S OWN PERSONAL RED. Ahhhh, but the red comin’ from you? Pfft, it ain’t worth the shit under my shoe…” Your ex could barely register what was even being said to him from the glass embedded in his face and blood gushing from his nose and broken lips.

Hands covered your mouth in terror as you could barely register what was happening. From panicked students screaming to Azul and Jade holding Floyd back from beating the poor ex to a pulp. All you could really register was the horrifying satisfaction deep in your chest, seeing the one who hurt you so much battered under the hand of someone who protected you…

Leona has his own ways of caring but most of the time, if you cannot read between the lines, it may come off as uncaring.

He does care, but don’t expect a coddling man rushing to be your knight when you are feeling sorry for yourself. The last thing he wants to do is pity you as he knows all too well the humiliation of being pitied.

Instead he observes, he watches, he’s keen to everything you do that isn’t a part of your daily life. In sly ways, he tries to break your moments of dissociating. He calls your name sharply to snap you out of your funk and gives you a menial task.

Telling you to maybe preen his mane, join Ruggie on an errand, what have you. It’s better to keep yourself occupied than whatever is plaguing your mindscape.

Sometimes, he will even abruptly lean against you, his weight toppling the both of you over. Even if you protest under him, he will insist he’s really tired and just wants something warm beside him to help him sleep. In truth, it’s just another way to stop your self-deprecating thoughts.

Though he will speak up in annoyance if your depressed thoughts start to bleed into your relationship. It will sting, but he means well. He tells you gruffly that he’s not in the mood to lay next to baggage. He wants only his partner, dammit.

You may argue, you may not, it depends on how you react but at the end of it, one way or another, you’re going to have to face him and this problem that hangs over you.

If you take time before approaching him or spill everything in one go, he will wait patiently and listen. But cowardice by running away he won’t accept and would want answers promptly.

One way or another, the truth has to come from you and you explain the thoughts that coil around you like a petulant serpent. A name and face that digs into your chest horribly. Your ex and the ways he has hurt you in many ways.

Leona listens stoically, letting you share your story before acknowledging and commending the strength it took for you to finally admit this. He knows all too well the pains of the past, he shares in your frustrations. But the past stays in the past for a reason.

Now it’s you and him now. You define yourselves here in the present. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’d like to see them try.

Who would have known that such a time would come so soon when one day, someone had the gall to start harassing you right in the Savanaclaw dorm.

That same face that always lingered around you like a ghost was here right now in the flesh, taunting you at the edges of the Spelldrive field. Your ex sneered at you, wondering what the hell you were doing around here during his practice hours. Had the nerve to accuse you of stalking him despite your split.

Your anger boiled your blood, your face flushed. Your nerves alighted with a burning fury that made the dorm’s dry heat pale in comparison. But your body did not respond to you. Your throat froze despite wanting to curse and yell out at your ex.

What neither you expected though while your mouth gasped for something, anything to throw at this scumbag, was a lion’s roar peeling across the field. A shadow loomed over your ex and both of you looked up to a silhouette blocking the sun and a pair of piercing green eyes.

Astride his broom, Leona stared squarely at the ex. “For a minute, I thought I heard annoying squawks from a mangy vulture, but now I just see a whelp. Having the nerve to approach my partner…”

Without missing a beat, Leona lowered himself to the ground and sauntered right over to your ex. Your ex tried to stand his ground but anyone could tell he was practically shaking in his spot.

“So.... What were you two talking about?” It was such a simple question. So trivial. But the way Leona spoke each word, it was like a pair of hungry jaws were ready to snap behind every syllable. He dared for your ex to slip up.

“N-nothing… Nothing at all… I was l-leaving…” “Hooo?” Leona’s tail whipped behind him in amusement. “So you just waltzed up to my partner and gawked at them? Nothing left your useless, flapping gums? I can hardly believe that.”

Leona’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hand and for a quick second, you swore you saw wind and dust particles gather between his finger tips. The air felt still and you heard your ex gulp audibly from a dry throat. Then, a sudden calmness.

“But if you were just about to leave, then by all means, scurry along. I hate people wasting my time.”

To which your ex immediately did, turning on his heel, so close to make a run for it. Then, like a giant paw slamming atop a helpless mouse, Leona’s hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“A warning since I’m feeling so generous today… Don’t ever let me catch you near them again. Ya hear me? Or else, I’ll make you a nice addition to the scenery. We could always add more sand and bones.” Leona cracked a toothy smirk with darkness in his eyes. His fangs glinted in the sun and it was then you truly realized the fierce lion you had taken in as your boyfriend.

[fangsandfeels]

Quite often, I'm sad that Larian canned the original idea of letting origin characters narrate their story and choices. It gave such a nice flavor to their personal stories and their emotions during every encounter.

For instance, upon encountering a wounded illithid who tried to mind control them:

Astarion already fucking hates this thing - he growls as he describes it, he seethes. And then he almost sobs, when the mindflayer tries to force him to think he deserved to be whipped and flayed for resisting it. And it makes perfect sense for him to react like that -- not only does he hate any intrusion into his mind, but also, the mindflayer found his trigger and made him feel miserable.

Meanwhile, Shadowheart, in the same scene, sounds a lot more collected, and observant, detached even when the mindflayer pushes into her mind. Sharite training pays off - she has probably been prepared for such attacks and is ready to endure what it takes to fulfill her mission. She needs to keep her focus and press on.

Will is straight-up poetic. He doesn't narrate; he tells a story he is immersed in (and wants to get you immersed too). He doesn't hate the dying mindflayer -- he has no reason to, it's dying all the same. He is taken aback by the compulsion attempt, clearly processing the emotions the creature tries to drag him through, but he is still in control, clearly understanding what it's trying to do. And of course, he would be in control - he is an experienced monster hunter, he dealt with all kinds of creatures. He knows a mental attack when he sees one.

Oh, and Gale, Gale just brings that classy "stranded in another world log" vibe. He is one of those sci-fi protagonists who go through the horrors and wonders, but always narrate them in the calmest of voices because they can't afford losing focus and losing their cool. Of course, Gale is also sympathetic, and curious, and melancholic at times, but it's all contained. I don't know if it was intentional, but his lines conveyed the feeling of isolation despite being surrounded by people.

Yes, Amelia Tyler is perfect, but I feel like BG3 origin character playthroughs suffer from the same effect that Divinity: Original Sin 2 origin stories did -- aside from a couple of details, more personalized interactions, and a bit more insights related to personal quests, they blend together with custom character behavior a lot.

Narration by VAs would have added such a nice personal touch to every choice and decision - not to mention compensated for the lack of voiced dialogues.

[yunjinstoy]

˖ ࣪ ‹ missing hours 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡

cho hyunju x fem!reader.

c/w: smut, phone sex, hyunju before transition, dirty talking, sub!hyunju x powerbottom!reader, needy hyunju, mentions of dick, full porn, sugarmommy kinda?? reader, little mention of breeding, and others things, lowercase intentional. hyunju rose dialogue.

a/n: guy's it's my first time posting something so please give me constructive tips!

you've been with hyunju for almost 5 months, and it was wonderful. she was the sweetest girl you could ever asked for, caring, lovely, understandable, comforting..and a nice cooker, of course. she was the first girl to not care about your money, even tho she knew that you have good amount of it, she never asked, and whenever she did for some reasonable and no doubts reason, she was so embarrassing to ask you for money, but you didn't care.

if you could, you would buy everything in your power to make hyunju happy, happy wife happy life, as they say.

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some weeks ago, hyunju talked about how much she wanted to do the bottom surgery. it's not like it's anything new for her to talk about, she always did, she always showed how she wanted to be fully transitioned but she was also very afraid to do so. but since you guys got more comfortable and more intimate, she gained some confidence and desire to have surgery. it would be in thailand, she would say, because there's a lot of procedures well done there. so, the next day, you caught yourself searching for thailand travel flights and gender transition surgery clinics, and of course, you brought the best ones.

when you showed it to her, she almost cried of joy and expressed how much thankful she was for you by kissing your whole face (you loved it). but she also got feeling guilt because you spent money on her, but why wouldn't you? she deserves everything she wants. the girl was so happy but then reality touched her. you would not come with her since you had work to do that day, money doesn't come for nowhere, right?

she pouted while looking at you, sad that you would not be with her in such a beautiful and memorable moment in her life, and trust, you were so sad as she was, you wanted to go with her and give her all the love and comfort but you just... couldn't.

୨୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨୧

it's been two days since hyunju arrived at thailand, on the 3rd day, the surgery would be done. it's was fucking difficult for her not being with you, even if it was only two days since she saw you, she missed you so much like she was not seeing you for weeks. she mumbled from one side to the other with longing, she missed your sweet face to her, your soft hearted words for her, your touch which was always hot, since you had warm skin. urrgh, she missed you and she needed you so much. some hours passed, and it's has already 11pm for her, the time where you guys would call each other before hyunju passing out in sleep, so it wouldn't be long before you called her. she was waiting anxiously, and finally, she heard the phone ringing.

"hello?" you say, amazed at how quickly she responded.

"hiii baby! how was your day? busy one?"

"not really, it was fine. and you? how you doing? nervous about tomorrow?" you asked, already knowing the answer. how badly you wished you were with her right now. and so did she, your voice and genuinely concerned tone made her feel safe and loved, and that only made her long for you even more.

"mhm...but it's gonna be just fine.. everything is going to be as it should and it won't take long until you're with me tomorrow after the operation, right?" you could sense her nervousness through her voice but as she spoke the rest, she became happier and more relaxed.

"yes, baby. i can and i'm so excited to see you..and to see our future place to live in." a smile appears on your face when you remember all the promises of living together in thailand.

"thank god...i've been missing you so much."

"aw really? i miss you too."

"no, i really miss you badly. i can't stand not having yours slightly touch."

you paused for some seconds, not responding to her. you always loved when your girlfriend was needy, just because it was something rare to happen because she was an expert on containing herself. so in this case, she was really missing you.

"i need you here, sleeping with me, killing me with love and kisses. i wanted you to touch me until i sleep... it's so difficult here without you."

she continues confessing this and that, and you could tell she was imagining everything she was saying out loud as you hear her pauses and heavy sighs. you didn't know what to do or say, should i let her continue or should i respond something? you thought repeatedly.

"i need you, i miss you. i-i wanted to enjoy the last night together while i have...you know.." her voice trembles a little bit but you couldn't decipher whether it was desire or nervousness. you gulp hard as you got what she meant. was she for real?

"w-what?" that was the only thing that escaped from your mouth. how pathetic.

"i wish you were playing with my co...cock..." what came out of her mouth sent you to heaven, the shy way she said such thing. and she was not helping neither since you could clearly hear her panting heavily. you were trying to putting the dots in order, was this really happening? does she want it? should i risk it? but as you were thinking hardly, hyunju spoke.

"please...say something, help me.. somehow."

okay, fuck it. it's your girlfriend and she's extremely needy for you, so why would you deny her with your head bubbling up right now?

"what are you wearing?"

"a blue pajama-type dress, no underwear."

nasty, you thought. even without you, she would be still that naughty. and in some sense, you could feel your blood popping up thinking about her being like this, all alone. without you taking care of her.

"you're so naughty, hyunju. i know you really want me to suck your cock and feel your gland beating in the back of my throat but no underwear isn't resolving nothing, baby, you know that, right?"

"i-i know...It's just to stay relaxed at night because i always end up thinking about you and then i get hard...and it hurts when i have something rubbing down there.."

"my baby thinking about me at night? about what? me bouncing on your big dick already dirty with cum of both of us?"

"f-fuck yes, i want that so bad.." it was hard for her to control her breath while speaking and you could tell right away.

"how bad?"

"so so so fucking bad, i need you to r-ride my cock so badly... it's throbbing and craving for your pu..ssy..feels so good when i'm inside you, you make me feel so fucking go-good..please please let me-"

"let you what?"

"let me touch myself while thinking about you swallowing my cock, please please pleas...se, i c-can't anymore..."

"turn the camera on and touch yourself."

and hyunju did. she placed her phone right in front of her so you could see exactly how her face looked like at the moment. she was with her cheeks extremely red, same as her lips which were also wet from the times she bit her lips to contain herself. she was wearing what she told she was, and it suited her so well. her cock was full out, hard, juicy, and throbbing with need. she waited some time for you to admire her, because she knew that you would. and then finally, she placed the palm of her hand on top of the cock that had been begging to be touched for some time now. hyunju started to masturbate herself and you swear that the view was way better than any work of art. her free hand was glued to her mouth, being bitten to contain the louder moans and pleasure that hyunju felt, but she failef miserably since you could perfectly hear every sound that came out of her mouth, her eyes closed tightly and her eyebrows that the furrowed and moved with every movement that hyunju made on her own cock.

"just like that, baby...imagine it's me there, imagine your hand is my pussy taking care of your desperate dick."

"lo-ve...i'm gonna...i-" the hand that surrounded her cock began to make much faster movements. you could see her dick twitching.

"cum just inside of me, hyun."

and then, her orgasm arrived. the jets of liquid were falling down on her cock and hand. oh, how you wanted to lick that. her chest coming and going fast desperately, controlling her panting breath as she opened her eyes slowly as if she had just woken up.

"you did so well, my baby. you-"

she cut you off.

"i need...more, i want to make the most of my last day with a dick...and with you, please let me cum more."

reality hit you, this was going to be a long night and the best phone call you ever had, you should send her to thailand alone more times.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Now and Tomorrow and Everyday After (Sylus x F! Reader) MDNI 18+

Synopsis: In spite of the 'tails' attempts to separate you from Sylus, it only seems to bring the two of you closer.

CW: Fingering, Oral (Female receiving), P in V, Praise Kink, after care, adult themes

Author Disclaimer- I do not own the LADS characters or lore and did use some dialogue from the recent banner's Sylus Card. I do NOT use AI and do not permit anyone else (or any other entity) to copy and advertise my work as their own. Definitely not proof read or edited because I was having “don’t post fear” and just needed to go for it.

Author Note: I made an attempt and this is my first time writing Sylus and posting it so yeah! Thanks for reading- all kind comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! Remember, to be kind to yourself and others today! I also high key think Sylus is going to this zone to protect MC from Ever cause he makes mention of that but that's beside the point.

 *this is my take on the Night of Secrecy Card. I wanted to fill in some gaps*

You pick at your nails nervously under the warm air of the AC. The city of Linkon passes you by- your eyes flickering to Sylus every so often as he drives you both to one of his safe houses. 

 Your nerves are on fire- not from the danger of whatever pot Sylus decided to stir up, but rather the fact that tonight is the night.

 Or so you have decided.

 And the night meaning boning. You want to bone this man hard.

Okay- wait, it’s probably more like make love to, but you aren’t sure where you stand in Sylus’ life or if his feelings are all that deep.

 And would he even be capable of feeling that way towards you? 

 The thought makes that tight ring of nerves turn into a heavy ball in the pit of your stomach. Sylus really means a lot to you and you feel he shares that sentiment, but you have also been wrong before and it ended up just being a friends with benefits situation. You weren’t “girlfriend material” as you often joked with Tara. 

 But he is having you tag along, you think, he didn’t say he didn’t want you around. He just said he was leaving to protect you so maybe-

 “What are you agonizing about over there?”

 Shit.

“If you changed your mind-“

“No!” You say probably too abruptly, “I’m fine- everything is great, better than great even! Just thinking.”

Sylus chuckles and you don’t even have to look at him to know he is seeing right through. He knows you better than anyone at this point and he knows when something is bothering you.

 You would honestly consider Sylus the closest thing to a best friend you could ever have. You can confide in him, depend on him, and you have a lot of fun with him.

 For the most part, you think he has learned to depend on you, confide in you, and he certainly seems to enjoy himself when he is in your company. Luke and Kieran say they can tell when he’s been with you because he’s less trigger happy with the people he’s dealing with (which you’ll take as a win if you need to find one somewhere). 

 Not to mention- the way his hands were splayed along your thighs last night when he sat you on the kitchen counter was mind numbingly intimate. His fingers drew gentle shapes on your bare skin and left goosebumps in their wake. Sylus’ forehead was pressed against your own and his lips mere inches away, but he didn’t kiss you and you have been thinking about that all day. 

 What if he didn’t want to because he’s just trying to lead you on until you are of no use to him? What if all of these nice things and words and actions are all just to make sure you will still help him and resonating won’t be an issue again? 

 “What is it?” His voice is gentle, “maybe I can help you be less… befuddled.”

 You shoot him a look that earns you a laugh, but you can see the genuine concern in his eyes. Sylus has been so invested in hiding you from the worst parts of his world and now that he’s opened up, he’s worried he’s lost you unintentionally and that all the time you have spent together is long forgotten. 

 You shrink slightly into your seat- avoiding his eyes the best you can and you say your question as quietly as you possibly can.

“I didn’t catch that, Kitten.”

 You say it slightly louder now but still not enough and you can feel the deadpan look he is giving you.

“Howdoyouknowifsomeoneisromanticallyinterestedinyou?”

 It’s all a bunch of gibberish, you had been far more confident of your assessment of his feelings when you were both walking and he was holding your hand. That would have been a really natural transition into discovering this question without any anxiety, but now you’ve had time to think about it and overthinking is the enemy of success. 

 And love, evidently. 

 “How they treat you, I suppose.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Well, sweetie, when someone is interested in you romantically, they may do things like hold your hand, call you pet names,” he says with the slightest bit of humor, “go to the movies, buy you gifts, play the Claw Machine until it’s dark outside and the arcade owner has to finally kick you both out. Maybe even play kitty cards in spite of losing almost every match because their opponent is a cheater.”

“I am not a-“

 Your brain does a hard reset as you begin to realize what he is trying to tell you. 

 Sylus is telling you ‘yes- I am romantically interested in you’ and the dumbest, biggest smile ever on your face. 

“Was that the answer you were looking for?”

 You nod, suddenly feeling shy, “yeah- that was exactly the answer I was looking for.” 

 The rest of the ride is quiet with one of his hands on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. You watch as the city quickly turns into a distant dream and Sylus’ safe house, not to your surprise, is very very large and it does very little to calm your nerves. 

 “I see owning multiple properties can be quite handy. A smart crow always has a few tricks up his sleeves.”

“The same can be said about having multiple slippers.”

 You turn to him and stick your tongue out playfully, “ha ha, very funny.

“This safehouse doesn’t happen to warm up, does it?” your teeth begin to chatter slightly and your bare legs are littered in goose bumps, “it’s colder than hell in here.”

 Sylus rolls his eyes at you, but begins to walk towards the fire place.

“It is snowing outside.”

 The warm hues of the fire illuminated the room and reveals several boxes scattered about, some opened and others not. The rest of the house looks similar to his main house, but maybe slightly more scaled down. It’s beautiful and it has a great view of Linkon and the mountains behind it. It’s almost easy to forget this is a safe house and not a vacation home.  

 “I’ll leave after dawn. You should stay here for a while.”

 You turn with a scoff, “I know your ‘territory’ is pretty safe, but as I said, a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

 “Really?”

  You choose to ignore him- knowing all too well that he will suss out your plan to join him on his dangerous little adventure. There isn’t a single thing in the whole world that could convince you to stay here otherwise, but Sylus has his own ways of ensuring things go the way he wants and you don’t feel like waking up handcuffed somewhere for your own safety.

“What’s with all the gifts? I didn’t think you celebrated Christmas.”

 Sylus chuckles, “I don’t, sweetie. I held an… ‘appraisal salon’ not that long ago.

“Would you like to take a look?”

 It honestly is kind of like being in a candy shop, but the candy shop is the black market and instead of delicious treats, they sell guns and while guns are cool (when used appropriately), they certainly aren’t helping you get Sylus any closer to the bedroom than you were five minutes ago. 

“Look at these bad boys!” You hold the unwrapped vintage gun, “this is a classic piece and very difficult to find.”

 Then a stroke of genius occurs.

“Let’s have a contest,” you flash a cheeky grin, “whoever can disassemble their gun first gets to ask the other any question they want.”

“You truly are relentless.”

 And of course Sylus agrees because he’s Sylus and he loves a good challenge. However, you are extremely determined to be the person asking the question and you know this specific gun quite well. You and Caleb learned how to shoot using these guns and you could disassemble it by telling it to.

 The gun is pointed at Sylus’ chin right as he is about to finish putting together his own weapon. You eat up the delicious grin on his face. It makes you feel empowered- he makes you feel empowered.

“First- say the thing.”

He rolls his eyes and gives you a soft smile, “I like your confidence and your determination very much. Now go ahead, ask your question.”

 Uh oh- you hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.

“I’m sleepy.”

 WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RIGHT NOW?

 Sylus looks a bit perplexed and you cannot blame him- you need to fix this NOW!

“Can you… tuck me in?”

“I thought a certain relentless hunter would ask about my destination.”

You shrug, “I care more about the present than an answer I won’t get. So will you do it or not?”

 Sylus is suddenly swinging you up into his arms and you yelp in surprise, but it doesn’t seem to get the usual laughing reaction you thought it would. Instead, there is a heat in his eyes that you have seen before but could never place what he was feeling until you began to feel it too. 

 “Of course, Kitten,” his nose brushes against yours, “this request is way more powerful than that little gun.”

 Every footstep closer to the bedroom is another step towards you having to be brave and you find yourself studying Sylus’ features as the dim light of the hall lamps barely kisses his features. He is so beautiful- you could probably study him forever and find more things you adore about him.

 He catches you looking and he returns your smile of adoration- flinging your shoes to the side and going to set you on the couch to quite literally tuck you in. 

 And ACTION!

 “I’m not ready to lie down just yet.”

 Sylus cocks an eyebrow, “if you don’t want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave.”

 “What if I don’t want you to leave?”

 Your question hangs in the air and it’s hidden meaning seems obvious to you, but then Sylus puts you down on the ground and you realize he may have missed the actual meaning of your words. Is it that unbelievable that you would want to have sex or are you doing a magnificently poor job of conveying that point?

 “We better make the most of our time until dawn then.”

 In the spur of the moment and desire coursing through your veins, you find the courage to push him down onto the couch behind him. With a gracefulness you have never been able to execute before, you straddle him and the way his breath hitches makes something inside you break.

  Sylus’ face is an adorable and sexy pink and his breathing becomes more unsteady in your clumsy hands.

 When your lips finally touch his, it feels as if you have been asleep your entire life until this very moment. 

 Your fingers find purchase in his hair and Sylus pulls you into him- his fingers surely leaving bruises along the back of your thigh. The kiss is filled with passion and desperation- his skin feels like it’s on fire under your touch and every moan against your lips sends shockwaves through you. 

 “You really don’t want me to leave.”

 To emphasize his point- you tease his lower lip between your teeth that makes him feel absolutely feral. 

“S-Sylus,” you pant between kisses, “over there.”

 You anticipated him to be a bit rougher, maybe throwing you down on the bed or something, but he lays you down gently like you are a precious, fragile gift. His hands are firm and confident as he cradles you, needing to have you as close as physically possible. 

 Your clumsy hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt and loosening his tie. Your hands glide across his chest and your nails gently graze your territory- one of your nails taking the time drag across his nipple. Sylus bites your lower lip in response, his hips grinding into you, and the growl that claws it’s way up his throat excites you. Your heart feels as if it’s beating out of your chest by the time he pulls away and (not so gently) takes of your shirt.

 The cool air is a stark contrast to the heat you feel on the inside- Sylus roams your bare chest and core with his eyes, his fingers hooking into your pants and pulling them down. You help by lifting your hips at an embarrassingly fast pace.

 “Looks like we are on the same page with not wanting to waste any time.” 

 He crushes his lips against yours again, leaving bruising kisses on every inch of skin he comes in contact with. Sylus returns the favor from earlier, his practiced mouth circling your nipple with care. His tongue flicks and laps at the sensitive skin and his teeth are quick to follow, leaving love marks and spit littering your skin before making his way to the the other. 

 You are mesmerized as you watch him- your core wound tight and dripping with need at the sight of him worshipping your body. Leaning back, you close your eyes and enjoy every single sensation. 

 You have soaked the bed underneath you by the time he makes his way between your legs- you are so caught up in his silent worship that you can barely focus on the task at hand.

 Strong, corded arms pull you to the edge of the bed and you jolt from your bliss filled daze- and God are you grateful you have. Sylus looks beautiful between your legs with his cocky smirk and pink cheeks- his warm breath lingers on the sensitive skin between your thighs. 

  With your legs slung over his shoulders- Sylus licks a stripe along your folds and ends at your clit, circling the sensitive nub and making lewd noises that you have only ever heard in porn. No one has truly, properly gone down on you and when they have, it always seemed like a chore.

“Sy-Sylus, you don’t have to if you don't wan-”

 You are cut off when he sucks on your clit, his tongue taking the time to tease the nerves and leave you a whimpering mess.

“I’m not doing anything I haven’t thought about doing for a very long time now,” he kisses along the inside of your thighs, “now stay focused, kitten.

“Don’t look.”

 One of your hands tangles in his hair and the other twists into the sheets. Sylus feasts and laps up your pleasure, his face covered in your essence and his nose breathes in your heady scent with happy, deep hums. His large hands roam your body, keeping your hips down and your legs clenched around him. They eventually return to your sore nipples and those practice, cold hands, become warm and attentive. He gropes and squeezes your breasts in time with his tongue as it darts in and out of your heat, his nose working to keep your bundle of nerves stimulated.

“Sy-” you clench your legs around his head tightly, a string of curse words leaving your mouth, “f-fuck- I’m, I’m-”

 Sylus’ fingers dip between your folds and his tongue returns to your clit. His other hand holds down your hips as his fingers drive you to your first orgasm of the night. Your moans are shrill and untamed- embarrassing almost- but the more you sing for him, the harder Sylus works to get more and more of those pretty noises out of your mouth. 

 When he finally comes up for air, your pleasure is dripping from around his mouth and down his chin. Crimson eyes make eye contact with you and he brings his soaked fingers to his lips- shamelessly savoring the taste of you on his skin. 

 You can barely contain yourself when he begins to crawl along you- your greedy hands using his hands to pull him to you faster. Sylus gazes at you adoringly and you are overwhelmed with your own affections for him. You went from hating him to loving him, desiring him, and at least for tonight, he is all yours. 

“What are you thinking about?”

 Mindlessly, your hand cups his cheek and your thumb traces the spot where a scar should be from your first encounter.

“Am I being too greedy… if I ask you to keep your eyes only on me?”

 Sylus almost looks relieved by your words, grabbing your arm and leaving a plethora of kisses as if to reward you for being open with him.

“You always had that right,” his warm breath and deep tone sends goosebumps of excitement up your spine, “which means… you can be even greedier. Do you want it, kitten?”

 Your breath catches when you realize what he is insinuating and you blink a few times before nodding. He smiles and leans down, but you stop him momentarily. Your mind feels like it is going a thousand miles a minute as you run through every negative outcome. What if you are really bad in bed? What if he decides he doesn’t want to be with you or bother with you anymore after you share such an intimate moment with each other?

“Sylus-”

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you…? You just said “yes?” his voice is desperate, “I’m hoping yes is still your answer because… I just can’t hold back anymore.”

 A wave of want and need flows through you, but before you can continue, you want to make sure this isn’t the beginning of the end.

“If we do this,” you whisper, “if we have this intimate moment together- you can’t just disappear on me. I want you, Sylus. Now and tomorrow and everyday after.”

 The Onychinus leader blinks a few times before the largest smile paints his face.

“Oh, y/n,” he sighs against your lips, “you have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say those words.”

 Sylus kisses you deeply, his lips caress yours and your hands explore each other- your nails make designs in his back as you try to keep yourself as close to him as you possibly can. Sylus’ clothed crotch is stained in the mess between your legs while he rocks his hips into you. His hand is tangled in your hair and the other is pressing you flush to his sweat soaked chest. The kiss only continues to deepen in passion and need- you barely get him to let you take a moment to breathe. 

“He-hey- no biting here,” you tease, pulling him back by his hair after he nips the skin on your neck a bit too roughly.

 His pupils are blown wide with lust and pent up frustration, “First you want it rough, then you want it soft. You’re a tough one to please tonight, y/n.” 

 You are lost in the depths of his eyes and the pooling of emotions behind them. You forget to breathe until he breaks eye contact to leave soothing kisses over the bite mark. 

“What do you really want?” he uncharacteristically pleads, “won’t you tell me like you just did?”

 While his voice may be innocent, you are far from believing this act. With a smirk, you use your strength to roll him on his back and your hands intertwine with his- keeping them pinned to the bed. The look of surprise on his face is refreshing, to say the least.

 You lean down and kiss him slowly, nipping at his lower lip and eating up the breathy chuckle he releases.

“I told you a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

“So you want control?” 

  You nod victoriously, certain you are going to be the one in control tonight. Sylus returns your confident smile with one of mischief before he somehow pins you down in the spot he was before. 

 Sylus chuckles deeply, “Unfortunately, I can’t give it to you. Not yet, at least.”

  Before you can inquire about what he means, you feel the pressure of two of his fingers sliding inside your wet cunt. An open mouthed, guttural moan leaves your lips and Sylus just watches- his other hand holding your chin so he can make eye contact. He wants to see your pleasure and know he is the only one you are thinking of- the only one you are seeing.

 Sylus wants you to know- no, understand- that you are his, not anyone else’s. 

 “Sy-sylus,” you plead, “pl-please I ne-”

“Don’t run.”

 Your back arches upwards and you try to pull away from his hand when you feel a warm wave gush and soak the sheets beneath you. Sylus doesn’t relent and quickly coaxes another orgasm from your shaking body. 

“Yo-you’re… so annoying…”

“I won’t deny it,” he crawls off of you with a grin, “I guess you can say I lied. Tonight, you’re not the only one feeling greedy…” 

 Sylus unzips his pants and pulls down his brief- his cock springs free and slaps against his lower ab muscles. Your mouth is watering in anticipation at his size- of course he’s perfect. He’s Sylus. 

 He climbs back on the bed and pulls you closer to him- the head of his cock presses against your folds and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“I misspoke.”

“What…?”

 Is he changing his mind?

“Greed can never be satisfied,” he places your hand on his chest, your hearts beating in sync, “but you can temporarily soothe it.

“Say it again, y/n, do you want it?”

 Time feels like it stops completely when his eyes meet yours. Your devotion and adoration for each other is magnetic- an unspoken magic between both of you. Your fingers lace themselves in his hair, pulling him to you and you take your time to kiss him slowly, reassuringly. 

“This is my answer.”

  Whatever lust and want that had been held back erupts within an instant. Sylus crushes your lips with his and he slowly glides himself inside of you- your legs tighten around his torso and your whine of pleasure interrupts the heated kiss.

“F-fuck, y/n.”

 Sylus’ pace is both gentle and punishing- you can feel him trying to be gentle, but the more he holds himself back, the more you want him to let go.

“Let go, Sy,” you whisper, “I’m yours.”

 His hips set a punishing pace- your collective sighs and moans are the melody to the filthy sound of sex soaked skin and your hips meeting. His tip grazes the opening of your cervix and his abs stimulate your aching clit. The spongy sensitive spot inside of you is relentlessly stimulated with each movement.

“Such a good girl,” he growls into your ear, “fuck you’re so tight.”

 Your only response to his praise is pathetic whimpers and cries. It doesn’t stop him- if anything, he only begins to praise you more. Sylus is wrapped up in the moment and wants nothing more than to stay in this moment with you forever. You are safe and in his arms- he is finally reunited with you in body, mind, and soul and this spurs him on more, his cock driving into you harder and harder and his hands digging into the flesh of your ass and hips to keep you in place.

 You cling to each other, lips and teeth clashing against each other sloppily as you both lose your composure to the others’ wanting. Your velvet walls clench around him desperately and your fingers try to find purchase on his back, in his hair, anywhere as your orgasm overtakes you. 

 With a few more rough thrusts, Sylus stutters inside of you and thick ropes of cum coats the inside of your walls and fills you to the brim. He lays on top of you with very little of his weight, his face in the crook of your neck. Sylus leaves soft kisses along your neck and sings words of praise that you can barely register. 

 At some point, he gets up and you hear the bathtub turn on and the soft padding of feet. Sylus’s strong arms cradle you- taking you to the now filled bathtub that is more than big enough for two. 

 You straddle his lap so that you can face him. Sylus kisses you slowly while he cleans you- pouring water on your hair, scrubbing your scalp, cleaning the sweat along your shoulders and on the back of your neck. You return the favor, taking your time to make sure he can feel all the love you have for him and how much you care for him. 

 He helps you lotion and brush your teeth- at no point do your feet ever actually touch the ground again. Sylus sets you on the couch in one of his shirts and begins to change the sheets.

“Do you want some help?” you offer, your legs sore, but not wanting to be too much of a pillow princess.

 Sylus rolls his eyes at you, “I’m capable of tackling this mission on my own, sweetie, but I will let you know if another pressing issue arises.”

 You scoff playfully and wait for him to finish making the bed. Sylus picks you up and places you on the bed, you snuggle up next to him as soon as he lies down and, much like when you were in the grasslands, you lay your head on his bicep and he pulls you closer to him. You have never felt quite so warm or safe in your entire life and your resolve only hardens further.

 You cannot allow Sylus to go by himself into the jaws of danger. You refuse to.

 You turn and kiss his bicep, settling deeper into his arms.

“Good night, my clever Crow,” you say with a yawn, “remember not to steal the blanket.”

 He snorts, “I will try my best, kitten. Now get some rest- I’ll keep you safe.”

 You nod- knowing in your heart that you will always be safe with Sylus around- and let sleep take you. You have a long flight and some ass whooping on the agenda tomorrow, after all.

[jobean12-blog]

A Warrior's Heart

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader (Pedro Pascal's character in gladiator 2)

Word Count: 823

Summary: The general comes home from battle and knows exactly what he needs.

Author's Note: So I saw the new photo of Pedro from Gladiator 2 today. I couldn't stop myself. I'm not even sure that Marcus is definitely his name in the movie but I think I made it work. Also, I apologize if any of the dialogue doesn't fit-I haven't written many period pieces. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 😘

**There are no spoilers of course- I just went with my own brain here and made shit up haha. I tagged some friends but please if you're not into it never worry, I understand! 💕

Warnings: talk of battle, tiny mention of blood, spiciness and softness

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The enormous wooden doors swing open, and the dying light of the sun reveals a dark silhouette that pulls a rush of breath from your lungs.

He takes a step inside, the heavy footfall of his boots echoing in the emptiness of the hall. His dark hair is disheveled, and curls hang over his forehead even after he runs his hand over his head.

His armor is battered and bloodied and his skin is littered with scrapes and cuts that still bleed.

“My General,” you whisper, pressing a shaky hand to your trembling lips.

With clear eyes he finds you and takes two long strides to meet you in the middle of the hall. You slowly lift your hand and gently trace your fingertips along his beard before they touch his lips.

He grabs your wrist and closes his eyes, pressing his lips to each fingertip and then your palm.

“My love,” he murmurs as he sharply tugs you against his body and his eyes fall to your mouth.

The brush of his lips is all you feel before a throat clears and you’re pulled from the moment.

“General.”

He tears his eyes away from you and looks up.

“I’d like a report,” the King states.

You press yourself closer and lay your head along his shoulder, instinctively inhaling the scent of his skin.

“After,” Marcus says gruffly. “I’m in need of…my wife.”

With those final words he presses his hand to your lower back and escorts you out of the hall.

When you reach your shared chambers, he ushers you inside and closes the door, locking it and turning to face you as you stand in the middle of the room.

His eyes wander languidly down every inch of you, and a shiver of anticipation runs down your spine.

“Are you hurt General?”

The question is a whisper and when he fills the space in front of you and cradles your cheek in his hand you lean into his touch, your eyes shining.

“No, my love,” he answers. “But the blaze of battle still runs hot through my veins.”

His eyes are dark and intense, and you fully understand the meaning of his words. It heats your skin, and you know he’ll find you ready and wanting.

Your movements are graceful when you run a finger down his chest and carefully pull at the leather tied along his sides. They loosen and soften under your touch and loop by loop you free him of this cuirass.

You pay special attention to his gorget, relishing each turn as you unwrap the linen and reveal more of his neck. You place a soft kiss just under his jaw, tasting the saltiness of his skin before your mouth moves lower.

He swallows and you can feel the cords of muscle in his throat flex. You smile into his skin and drop your hands to gather his shirt at the hem.

When he is left in nothing but his pants you step back and let your eyes assess.

“Do you deem me fit enough to take you?” he asks with just a hint of teasing.

The corner of your lips lift and you push the shawl from your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet.

Your fingers reach for the wrap at your waist, but he steps forward and takes it from your hands.

His eyes, though still alight with fire, soften at the edges. “Each time it is like unwrapping the most beautiful gift.”

You drop your hands and fill your lungs with a slow inhale, your breath quickening as his hand traces over every curve he uncovers.

Now his gaze burns with nothing but desire and his jaw is tight with restraint.

“Wife,” he growls, looking his fill. “You would tempt a blind man with your beauty.”

Your smile is saccharine, though your words are anything but.

“How will you have me General?” you purr as you press your bare skin against him.

He hums low and deep, wrapping you in his arms and walking you backward toward the bed.

“First,” he whispers along your neck, “I will taste every part of this silky skin.”

His lips trail down your throat and across your collarbone. When they reach your shoulder, his fingers follow and smooth over the soft slope before dropping to massage your breast.

“Then I will taste the honey between your legs.”

His mouth moves lower, his warm breath teasing your nipple before his lips close around it.

Your fingers delve into his hair, threading through the mess of curls until he groans out your name.

“And then?” you ask in a breathless whisper.

He looks up, dark lashes lowered, and his tongue traces his lips. “Then,” he murmurs, “I will fill you so completely you will know nothing other than the feel of me for days to come. Every step you take will be a reminder of who you belong to.

@lizette50 @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @tripletstephaniescp

[esote-rika]

not a mask, but a reflection | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Waldorf!Reader Category: idk hurt/comfort?? flangst? something like that, I'm sorry I truly don't know how to categorize this Summary: The BAU ladies insist on a makeover for Spencer, so you decide to indulge them by promising to take him shopping. It doesn't go as either of you expected, but it allows a chance for the two of you to form a deeper bond. Content: reader’s outfit is described, reader is based on Blair Waldorf in background, and personality– so you're rich!! and fashionable!! And snarky, but in a ride or die sunshine x sunshine protector kind of way, early season 2 glasses!Spencer crushing on reader, implied autistic Spencer, brief mention of his bullying, lots of dialogue!!! especially about fashion advice (PSA to wear whatever you want!!) Word count: 2.8k A/N: I'm back on my Blair Waldorf-reader agenda. I'm mainly writing these because of my own crackship, but I tried very hard not to describe any specific appearance stuff for the reader (aside from what ur wearing) so it’s as immersive and universal as possible! Styling in film and TV fascinates me and I wanted to explore Spencer’s character through clothes. ALSO! I incorporate a Blair Waldorf quote into the conversation that goes “Fashion is the most powerful art there is. It’s movement, design, and architecture all in one. It shows the world who we are and who we’d like to be.” pls know I didn't come up with it, the Gossip Girl writers did. It's from S4E13 specifically.

Saturdays are usually meant for curling up on his couch to read his favorite books, or marathon obscure foreign films. Alone, always alone, Spencer Reid has grown used to the feeling; accepted it, enjoyed it, even. He wouldn’t have survived all these years if he didn't appreciate his own company, after all. 

However, today is different. He’s expecting company, which is unusual enough, but he’s expecting you of all people. And it’s for such a silly thing too— a makeover. Something straight out of a cliche high school movie. It had started at work, during a case, a passing comment made by one of the people being interviewed. Something about looking like he’s playing dress up, spoken so softly he’d been willing to pretend to ignore it. 

But you heard it, had snapped at the man in annoyance about respect and propriety. At the jet, you had snapped at him about wearing clothes that fit better, and of course Morgan and JJ had to get involved, and Garcia squealed about a makeover over the phone. He hadn’t expected you to accept; when you did, he considered several ways to get out of it: pretend to have a date (implausible), pretend to get sick, just don’t show up. But then you said you’ll meet him at his apartment and his world seemed to come crashing down.

“I need to see what I'm working with before I dive headfirst into this,” was your reply when he protested. It makes sense, of course, but he's not happy about accepting you into his space. It's curated for him and his comfort, and he dreads the idea of casting your shrewd, critical gaze over his design choices. If he's less of a coward, he would admit that a small part of him desires your approval. Craves it, needs it, so much it makes his skin crawl.

So that’s why his Saturday morning is spent cleaning; straightening books, hiding the case files strewn about. He doesn’t want to give you any ammunition to tease him with. Having to undergo a makeover is embarrassing enough.

It reeks of bleach when he opens the door for you. The wrinkle of your nose has no business being so cute when it's obviously done to express disgust.

“What is that smell?”

“Hello to you too,” he can't keep the sarcasm from his tone as he steps aside. 

You saunter in heels even though this is meant to be a casual get together. They click against his hardwood floors until you reach his rug, the thick fabric dulling out the noise. “Did you bleach your entire place?” 

His expression is sheepish as he closes the door, “I figured I'd clean.”

“You sure you're not hiding a murdered body in here?” you walk straight into the middle of his apartment and look around. He winces as he waits for your verdict.

“I’m not, I just - you’re so -”

“I’m so?”

“Particular.” I don’t want to disappoint you, but he clamps his mouth shut before the words escape. Having you come in for a makeover already isn’t doing anything for his confidence. In fact, it just confirms his suspicions. Something is wrong with him, despite all the attempts at propriety and flattery otherwise. The BAU sees it, you see it, and you’re here to fix it. He swallows the lump in his throat, and with it, his pride and the tiny hint of resentment. 

You are trying to help, he reminds himself. 

Maybe it’s his hopeless optimism, maybe it’s desperation to seem normal for once, but it’s enough to surrender to your knowledgeable hands. 

He lets his eyes take you in, allows himself a moment to linger on the details of your ensemble. The picture of coordination, as usual; shoes and bag the same shade of rich brown, the barrettes in your hair matching the pale blue trimming along the edges of the sundress you’re wearing. This is you dressed down, he knows, but somehow you manage to outdress him. 

“I’m not even going to ask what you mean by that,” your eyes roll, before landing to one of the doors in his apartment, “Where’s your bedroom?”

He sputters, “My - uh, why?”

“I’m assuming that’s where you keep your clothes?” You look at him like he’s dumb, and he turns bright pink. “I told you, I can’t take you shopping before I see what you already own.”

He can’t believe he fully didn’t realize it meant letting you into his bedroom. But then again, his brain has the tendency to turn to mush when he’s speaking with you. “Right,” he nods, scrambling to his bedroom. All of his anxieties about his living room and the overwhelming amount of books seem distant now; you hadn’t even commented on them. Instead, this new one arises, bubbles in his stomach. Showing you his bedroom is so much more intimate. The space he sleeps in, where he’s most vulnerable.

A space no other woman has ever even seen. 

He feels your presence behind him, smells the distinct loveliness of the perfume you like to call your signature scent. Of course you don’t ask for permission. He’s found quickly that you’re used to taking and having what you want, used to the world yielding to you instead of the other way around. 

Your heels make sharp taps against the floor. Combined with your perfume, it’s already obvious that you’re making your mark in his room, his haven. He imagines the fragrance will linger when you leave, and it makes his ears burn with a longing that knocks the wind from his chest. The door remains open, and he’s thankful that he isn’t completely caged in his bedroom with you. 

“Here’s my, uh, where I keep my clothes.” he hastily opens his closet, relief flooding his body as he sees it’s not that messy. Everything is ironed and pressed, although some of his sweaters are haphazardly piled together. He hopes he won’t have to show you the mess that is his sock drawer. 

You step up beside him, bare arm brushing against his. Brows furrowed in concentration as you rifle through his clothes. He steps back to give you more room to work with, although it’s more for his sake than yours. Your proximity is making him a little dizzy. He finds himself slumping on his bed, watching your movements. You’re approaching the task at hand with the same meticulous acuity as you would in a crime scene. Focused. Detail oriented, even when doing something so insignificant.

He’s not sure what to expect. He’s bought his clothes based on what he sees other men wear, relying on his observation skills, and the clothing guidelines given by HR to deduce what is considered appropriate. His father wore dress shirts a lot, back when his family was still intact. Hotch and Morgan wear suits, but those have always felt too formal to use on a daily basis. He opts for cardigans and sweater vests to keep him warm instead, because they’re softer, less restrictive. They remind him of Diana, the things she would wear back when she could still teach. He hopes you don’t make him get rid of them.

“You wear a lot of light browns,” your voice lifts him out of his anxious stupor, “You have to give that up.” 

He frowns in confusion, “What’s wrong with wearing light brown?”

“You’re too pale, they make you look even more sickly. But if you must wear brown, lean into this shade instead,” you hold up a dark brown blazer that he actually really likes. He smiles, happy that it got your seal of approval. You turn to him, eyes narrowed, “And your dress shirts are too big, look at where the shoulder seam falls.” 

He blinks in surprise as your hand comes to touch an inch past the edge of his shoulder, pinching the fabric, “It should be up here. You’re too slim for an oversized look, it just swamps your frame. If you’re going to be wearing them, they have to fit you better.” 

He nods, feeling a little out of his depth, “How do you know all of this?”

“Years of consuming Cosmopolitan and Vogue.” You turn back to the closet, he frowns slightly. The words mean nothing to him, and he flinches when he hears you sigh.

“Fashion magazines?” you prompt, glancing back over your shoulder.

“Ah,” He nods, lips pursed, “I can't say those are on my reading lists.”

“Obviously not, otherwise you'd know not to wear,” You gesture at his entire ensemble, nose wrinkling once again, “This.”

It doesn’t really occur to him what the problem is as he looks down at his checked button down. “It’s a nice shirt.” he says, although he can see your point now; it’s too big. 

“Reid, you look like you’re about to start proselytizing about our lord and saviour Jesus Christ.” you say, stepping away from his wardrobe and stopping in front of him. 

Your teasing makes his cheeks burn. Or maybe it’s your sudden closeness, your hands at his buttons, “Um, what–” he’s stiff, memories rushing of being held down, clothes forcibly ripped—

“Relax,” you step back after undoing the top button. The annoyed scoff surprisingly gives him some comfort, reminds him it’s you, he’s here with you, “There, that’s better. Don’t button it up all the way.”

“Why not?”

“I told you, it makes you look like you’re cosplaying a minister.” He shifts under your gaze, feeling exposed, even though he’s fully dressed. But that’s exactly what you’re judging, after all, his clothes. There’s nowhere to hide. “Why are you so tense, Reid? It’s not going to make you look like a fool, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Why? Where does he even begin? The fact that he’s never had a woman in his room before, and it’s making him feel like he’s about to implode? His memories of being stripped naked for all the school to see, humiliated, fueling the irrational fear of letting go of his clothes, the things he’s comfortable wearing. And for what? In order to be fashionable? To seem normal, to be fixed? 

He settles for a half truth, the words mumbled and embarrassed, “I like my clothes.”

To his surprise, your eyes soften, “Okay. And?”

“I like how I dress.”

“You don’t want to change your style?”

He looks down and shakes his head, feeling a little silly. How can he explain it to someone like you, who probably would have been one of his tormentors when he was back in school? It’s sick, this desire to be close to you, to be accepted by you as though being in your orbit would lessen his eccentricity. He thought he’d left it behind in high school, had grown out of it, but it’s there, recognizable and refusing to let him rest. 

“You know you didn’t have to say yes to this,” the bed dips as you sit beside him, “It was a silly thing the girls and I thought would be fun, but if it’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop and we could just, I dunno, go for ice cream instead.”

“No, I - I do, I just… don’t want to change completely.” It's almost pathetic how something as simple as clothes is making him spiral, “I like how I dress, even if you guys make fun of it. It’s comfortable. I get really cold hands, and the sweaters help, and - and the satchel is convenient even if you say it clashes with my outfits or whatever.”

Your hand rests on his forearm, and his rambling halts immediately.

“Then I won’t stop you from wearing grandpa-chic,” the lightness in your voice makes him smile, “This is why I wanted to see what you had. I wasn’t about to start from scratch, and there’s obviously a reason you gravitated towards these pieces. I wouldn’t force you into something you hate, that sort of defeats my fashion philosophy.”

“Your fashion philosophy?” He's smiling now as he listens to you.

“I believe that the whole point of fashion and clothing is to help reflect what you are on the inside, not mask it.” You reply, hand finding his own. He allows it, finding something warm and soothing in the touch of your hand, silencing the usual urge to pull away in fear of germs. “And, anyway, I think your clothes make you look really intellectual, so if you like them, you have the pieces in your closet already, it’s just a matter of styling them better.” 

You squeeze his hand, but he could have sworn you did it to his actual heart. 

He watches as you return to his closet again, rummaging through the clothes. You hold up a white button down and a navy blue cardigan, head tilted to the side, teeth worrying the plushness of your lower lip, “Like this; this is a nice combination, and it’ll work better with your complexion. Try it on.” they’re tossed over to him, landing on his lap.

You’re turning away from him, still going through his clothes—allowing him privacy. He appreciates that. He scrambles out of his current clothes, his skin prickling as he thinks about the fact that he’s in a room with a woman alone, getting undressed. No. You’re a friend and a coworker doing him a favor, he should get his head out of the gutter. Hurriedly, he puts the suggested ensemble on.

“Uh, it’s — you can turn around.”

He holds his breath as your eyes rove over his figure, still with the same sharpness he’s used to, but blunted by the small smile playing across your lips. “Yeah, that’s better. Navy’s a great color for you.” you have a stack of his shirts in your hand, all of them patterned and printed, “I’m sorry, but these… have to go. Or at least don’t wear them to work. The prints are ugly, no offense.”

He chuckles, taking the shirts from you, “Not wearing ugly prints to work anymore, got it.”

“Yeah, keep the funky patterns on your ties.” you reach up, brushing lint and dust off the cardigan, “Your shirts should remain plain, solid colors; you have a lot of nice sweater vests and cardigans, it’ll be easier to match them together if your shirts are in more basic colors.” 

Committing your words to memory is easy enough. Rules. He likes rules, but they need to make sense to him, otherwise their arbitrariness will simply frustrate him. “Why?”

“Why what?”

So far, you’re being so receptive to his questions, it might actually make him cry. It’s a new feeling, being the one who’s floundering. Not being the smartest, most knowledgeable person. How exciting, he decides, getting to learn in an area he’s never been able to fully understand on his own. He clarifies, “Why can’t I match the cardigans and sweaters to, uh, colorful shirts?” 

It’s a while before you answer, moving around to wind a tie across his neck. Your words are thoughtful when you speak, “It’s a visual balance. Too many colors and patterns can look heavy and distracting— which is okay, you know, but time and place is always something to consider when you’re dressing up. And you’re going to work, so it’s better to err on the side of caution and wear things that are more… sleek.” Your hands are deft as they tighten the tie, tucking it into the cardigan. “So now that I know what sorts of clothes you like to wear, it’s a matter of finding the right color combinations and cuts that fit your body. Here, see for yourself.”

You push him forward until he’s in front of his mirror, and indeed he does look… better. Still himself, still familiar, but the contrast of the navy cardigan against his pale skin somehow brings out more warmth from his cheeks and makes his hair seem less dull. Visual balance, you said. “Like art,” he murmurs.

“Exactly,” your smile is proud, peeking from behind his shoulder, “Fashion is the most powerful art there is. It’s movement, design, and architecture all in one. It shows the world who we are and who we’d like to be… and this is showing the world that you’re one attractive nerd.”

He laughs at that. There’s a lightness in his chest as he realizes he doesn’t have to change everything. “I think I get it.” he replies, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“Of course you do, you’re a genius.” A slap on the back, one filled with warm intimacy, “Now, I did promise the team a makeover, so now that I know what sort of stuff you need, we can finally go shopping… and we need to do something with your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” he asks, but he’s smiling and so are you.

THERE WILL BE A PART TWO! Also, tagging everyone who expressed interest in Waldorf!Reader @mggslover @libraprincessfairy @lillaberry @lokisswiftie

[nerdallwritey]

Just to Ruin Me

Summary: “You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” OR The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 12.5k CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, vaginal fingering, dry humping, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, but don't piss of Shadowheart Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 2 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here. Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Thanks to everyone who read Part 1!!! Your kind comments and encouragement spurred me to write Part 2 and I hope it's a sequel that lives up to expectations!! I know the summary is a little angsty, but I promise there's more banter to be had. Everyone is still a goof, after all. Please enjoy :) (Thank you to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder, the last part ended with the following few lines: “For now, you were content to sleep under the stars in Astarion’s arms. It was the best sleep you’d ever had.”

Taglist: @a66-1 @khaleesiofthewolves @khywren @lollipopsandlandmines @minestrones

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best sleep you’d ever had.

Though you’d grown accustomed to roughing it in the last few weeks since the nautiloid crash, waking up in the forest was still a shock. It had its charms, sure, like the fresh air and the breeze blowing in off the mountains, but the appeal was starting to wane. Especially after one too many nights of having to take a dip in the frigid lake next to camp to rid yourself of gnoll blood. 

This morning however, you found yourself surrounded by blankets and pillows from your camp in the middle of a clearing surrounded by large pine trees, all of which had been thoughtfully arranged by the figure trancing beside you. Your own sleeping figure sighed comfortably, unbothered by the lack of a mattress or a hot bath, just a nice deep sleep-

Astarion whacked you in the face.

Your eyes shot open.

“OW?” You scrunched your nose and blinked a few times to get your bearings. 

It was still dark. The forest around you was painted a delicate shade of periwinkle. You’d hazard a guess that it was just a little before dawn. 

At some point in the night, you’d rolled onto your back, away from Astarion, who was now curled to your right, his back facing you. He must have just rolled over, explaining the harsh wake up from his forearm. You smiled softly and instinctively brought your hand to rub your forehead where he’d made the unfortunate contact. 

Blinking a little more, your eyes were beginning to adjust. From this angle, you had a clear line of sight to the large scar that overran a majority of his back. You squinted in the dark to try and get a clearer view of the terrible thing, but came up short due to the shadows of tree branches being cast from above. Still just a mandala of jagged lines and brutal curves. When you got your hands on Cazador, you’d…

No.

No, that wasn’t your fight. 

But you’d be gods damned if you wouldn’t be there for every bloody moment Astarion faced him, giving support however you could. Though you had to admit that it would be so gratifying to corner the bastard and cast a quick little Otto’s Irresistible Dance… Assuming you’d be strong enough to cast it by then… Gods, he’d look so fucking stupid just before Astarion plunged a knife through his heart-

Enough. Battle strategies and sick, twisted (but satisfying) revenge fantasies later. Right now you noticed that the shifting of the shadows on his back wasn’t from a breeze shaking the branches above you, but because Astarion himself was trembling. 

Your first instinct was to reach out and touch him, but you quickly retracted your hand. Based on the short whimpers he was letting out, it seemed like he was having a nightmare.

How was one supposed to wake someone from a nightmare again? With Astarion you’d have to be extra careful; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d stowed a knife somewhere within these blankets that he might reach for in a surge of waking fear. 

That… would not be pleasant. 

You shifted to sit up and look around.

Ow.

A dull throbbing made itself known between your legs.

No, that was great. Spectacular, in fact. You’d have to stop and assess later.

Gingerly, you got onto your knees and peered around at your surroundings. Astarion had done a decent job of cleaning up the clearing to make room for this blanket nest, so there wasn’t a poking stick to be seen within reaching distance.

Not that you were going to poke him with a stick… but the thought had crossed your mind. You were still tired! You’d been fucked for the first time last night! There was a lot going on! 

You shook your head to clear the stupid overlapping thoughts and set to looking around for a wayward pillow. You spotted one in the far corner and made your way over to it carefully but with some haste to end Astarion’s unconscious suffering. 

You crawled back over to him. And then backed up a little. Just in case.

“Astarion,” you sang quietly. 

Astarion continued trembling, but you heard him inhale sharply. A good sign?

You raised your voice a little, but kept the same musical cadence. “Astaaaarioooon.”

Nothing.

Okay fine. 

“Sorry,” you said quietly, then threw the pillow at Astarion, hitting him squarely on the back of the head. You leaned forward to grab your own pillow as a protective shield as he gasped and shot up.

“What the hells? What’s happening?” Astarion rolled onto his back and frantically looked around until his eyes landed on you. 

You smiled sheepishly and waved at him lamely from behind your pillow. “Hi.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, confused. He shook his head, then lifted a hand to the back of his head where the pillow had hit him. “What did you do?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh, I know what I was doing,” his tone was sarcastic. “What were you doing?”

You looked down at your lap, guilty. “I couldn’t remember how to wake someone up from a nightmare.”

“So you assaulted me?”

“I didn’t know if you had a knife!”

“Why would I have a knife? What is happening?!” He sat up fully and brought a hand to his forehead as if he were in pain. 

“Are you okay?”

“Thankfully, I’ll live,” he opened his eyes and looked at you, his hand still on his forehead. 

You huffed. “I meant with the nightmare.”

Astarion sighed and closed his eyes again. “It’s far too early to discuss this.” He tilted his head up towards the sky, which was getting brighter with every passing moment. A practiced smirk appeared on his face and he looked at you once more. “I’d much rather know if you’re okay, darling.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“We had a lot of fun last night, didn’t we?”

“Seeing as how I’m always a lot of fun, I don’t understand why you’re posing this question.” You looked down your nose at him. 

He hung his head and sighed exasperatedly. “Will you simply allow me to work my charms on you?”

You tutted. “Is that what you were trying to do just now?”

“Attempting to, yes.” Astarion crossed his arms. “I’m usually irresistible.”

You snorted. “Okay,” you said, a small smile appearing on your face. “I’m going to ignore your lack of an answer about your nightmare and will elect to wait until you’re ready to tell me about it yourself.”

Astarion pursed his lips.

“But go ahead,” you rearranged your legs, wincing mildly as you moved to sit cross legged, “charm me.”

A look of worry flashed over Astarion’s face when he saw you wince, but the concern was quickly overtaken by an all too self-satisfied grin. “Feeling it this morning, are we?”

You rolled your eyes. “I knew you’d be happy about this.”

“Positively delighted, my sweet.” He leaned forward and kissed you gently, bringing a hand up to your cheek. You brought your own hand up to lay against his. He pulled away and appraised your face smugly. “I was completely enamored by your performance last night.” You were about to open your mouth to say something, but Astarion interrupted. “Don’t even think about mentioning that you’re a bard and that of course you’re good at performing, or something like that.”

You closed your mouth. You were going to say something like that. Instead you said, “You were pretty good yourself.”

He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “I’ve ‘ruined you,’ from what I recall.”

You groaned. “I just said that to make you cum.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, my dear.” His face was still smug, but he motioned for you to come closer. You scooted forward and he lifted you slightly to sit on his lap. 

He leaned up and kissed you deeply, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for entrance. You moaned in response and opened your mouth for him. Though the rest of his body was cold, his mouth was warm and inviting, and you leaned in further to try and get closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tilted your head slightly to get a better angle. You’d been mildly distracted last night; had he always smelled this good?

When Astarion pulled back suddenly, you couldn’t help the whine that escaped at the loss. He hummed in satisfaction, and his voice was low and seductive when he spoke.

“Every part of your perfect body whispers temptations-”

You giggled. “What?”

“Shush dear, I’m charming you.” He cleared his throat, “-it’s as if the gods made you just to ruin me.”

“So now I’ve ruined you?” You raised your eyebrows teasingly.

“Wait, no-”

You leaned your forehead onto his and laughed. “And that one usually works?”

He blew out a puff of air. “You’re an unusual one, I’ll give you that.” 

You shrugged, pleased with yourself.

“But yes,” Astarion continued, “I’ve made plenty of previous lovers swoon with that particular line.”

“Show me what else you’ve got, then,” you challenged.

Astarion tilted his head in thought. “Let’s see… I can’t use the ‘cried from your lips’ line because I used that one last night…” You scoffed joyfully, mockingly scandalized that he’d already used a line on you. He met your eye and smirked. “How about this one: When I’m with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again, with you.”

The sultry tone of his voice did send a pang of want through your body, reminding you that you were only wearing Astarion’s shirt and nothing else. You shifted uncomfortably. 

“How romantic,” you said, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. “I didn’t think you liked dying the first time.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, sensing your deflection and smirked, looking down at where you sat on his lap. He rolled his hips, which made you inhale sharply. “I see that one did do something for you,” he leaned forward and kissed your neck. 

You exhaled slowly, “I blame that stupid sexy voice of yours.”

Astarion growled against your throat and you shivered, bringing your hands up to his back. 

“Astarion,” you sighed and he hummed in response, licking over the twin wounds he’d left the night before. You sat up a little straighter. “Wait.”

He immediately pulled back and looked at you with concern. “What is it?”

“I just thought of something,” you said.

Astarion raised his eyebrows and nodded, wanting you to continue.

“Can I borrow your fangs?”

“My-?” His tongue instinctively flicked over his teeth.

“Because I want to leave a lasting impression on you,” you tilted your head at him to show off the marks he’d left on your throat. You shimmied your shoulders a little for good measure. 

“I’m leaving,” Astarion made to get up with you still on his lap and you laughed loudly.

“No! No! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wanted to try a dumb line on you, too!” You threw your arms around his neck and hid your face in his shoulder. You felt him kiss your hair.

“You’re lucky I don’t travel with you for your personality,” he joked. 

“I’d say ‘I’m a lot of fun’ again but I think you’d actually stop talking to me.” You pulled back to look at him.

“And you’d be right.” He kissed you chastely and then adjusted you on his lap. You winced a little again and he looked genuinely sympathetic. “I might have a way to ease the pain from last night,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

You smiled at him. “Yes.”

He smiled back. “Good.” He positioned your arms over his shoulders. “Hang on, my love.” You crossed your arms where they hung behind him and waited to see what he would do. 

Without warning, you felt one of his cold fingers slide through your folds. You hissed at the sensation and looked at Astarion. 

“Supposedly, massaging the area can help,” he was trying to sound knowledgeable, but the look in his eyes was one full of lust. Then he tutted, looking down. “You could be wetter, darling.” His thumb began to circle your clit.

Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, and you leaned forward again to rest your forehead on his shoulder. 

“Do you want my cock again, love? You took me so well last night, I was so proud of you,” he’d moved his mouth next to your ear and was speaking with the same sultry tone that he had a minute ago. You whimpered at his praise and rolled your hips to get his thumb to press you harder. Astarion let out a low groan. “That’s it, you’re getting so wet for me, you’re so good.”

After a few more tight circles, you practically sobbed when you felt him take his thumb away from your clit.

“Shh, shh, I know,” he cooed, “but we want you to feel better, remember?”

You let out a frustrated sound. “I already was feeling better.”

Astarion chuckled. “Trust me, would you? Impatient.” His tone was nothing but fond.

His other fingers began massaging the area around your entrance. You winced and bit your lip. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you confirmed. “I assume this will get better?”

“That’s the idea,” he kissed your ear and you nodded against his shoulder. 

You rolled your hips, attempting to get friction where you needed it. 

“Just a little longer,” Astarion said, moving his fingers gently around your cunt.

You hummed an acknowledgement and kept rolling your hips, trying to combat this weird form of edging that was happening. 

Finally, Astarion ceased his massaging and brought his thumb back to your clit. You let out a long shuddering breath and squeezed your eyes tight, adjusting your hips to roll against his thigh. 

“There you go, my love,” Astarion said, voice still in your ear. “I’ll make you cum for behaving so well.”

You whined loudly as his thumb picked up the pace. You began rolling your hips at an equally fast pace. “More,” you whined, willing your climax to approach faster.

“Not right now, darling. Let’s give you a break there, shall we?” Astarion used his free hand to pet your hair. 

“But you asked if I wanted your cock again,” you whined.

“And while I’m pleased to hear that you’d like it again, let’s relax and get you off like this for now, okay?” 

You groaned but nodded, squeezing your eyes shut again and focusing on the pleasure Astarion was currently providing. “Harder,” you instructed.

Astarion pressed down harder on your clit with his thumb. He swept his index and middle finger through your folds, coating them in your slick. He quickly swapped those fingers with his thumb, changing the sensation by swapping one finger for two and adding more of your arousal to the mix. 

You keened and gripped his bicep. “Harder!” You instructed again, desperate and approaching the edge. You could feel the coil in your stomach preparing to let go.

Astarion pushed again and brought his lips to your ear once more. 

“I just thought of something, precious thing,” he murmured.

You blinked at him, your eyes unfocused and half lidded.

“More of a question, really,” he clarified.

You squeezed your eyes tight, nodding. You were on the precipice of your orgasm and could feel it fastly approaching. You slammed your hips against Astarion’s thigh as he continued to rub your clit brutally. 

“Do you believe in love at first bite?” He leaned forward and kissed your throat, then began to suck a new mark into the flesh there. Contrary to his pun, he wouldn’t drink from you without your expressed permission first.

It did, however, send you crashing over the edge. You moaned loudly, Astarion’s name tumbling repeatedly out of your mouth. The vision behind your eyelids was white and you reached out blindly to grip Astarion’s shoulders. His lips detached themselves from your throat and found your own. His tongue was immediately in your mouth, swallowing your moans and shouts of his name.

When you came down, you disconnected from the kiss and opened your eyes, a lopsided grin on your face. 

“Thank you,” you said. “I do feel better.”

Astarion smirked. “I knew you would.” He brought his fingers, still coated in your essence, up to his mouth and sucked them clean. You watched, mesmerized by the way his cheeks hollowed and his eyes fluttered shut. He pulled them out with a lewd pop. “Delicious.”

You felt your face flush, embarrassed by his display, despite just cumming in his lap. 

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about this,” Astarion said, reading your expression immediately. “What you should feel embarrassed about is the fact that you came because I told a joke.”

“I did not!” You protested.

“You absolutely did,” Astarion said. “And it was a particularly bad one, too.” He clicked his tongue. “You must feel so ashamed.”

You groaned. “I came because you started kissing my neck!”

Astarion raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing you. “It’s okay, darling, no one here was under the impression that you aren’t incredibly lame.” He gave you a pitying look, then kissed your nose and you laughed. He pulled back and looked at you fondly, a dopey half smile on his face. Then he looked up at the sky.

The periwinkle you’d awoken to was now vibrant shades of orange and pink. 

“Are you okay if I move you?” Astarion asked.

“Um… sure?” You weren’t sure why he was asking, and helped to move yourself off of him. You did feel a bit less sore thanks to his help. 

He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, then bent to pick up a rag to wipe off his pants. 

“Sorry,” you said.

Astarion shook his head. “Comes with the territory.” You were about to make a joke but he held up a finger and gave you a warning look. “Don’t.”

You held up your hands innocently. 

He tossed you the rag after and then your pants and underthings.

“Clean up,” he instructed, “then get dressed.”

You furrowed your brows, your stomach dropping suddenly. He didn’t expect you to leave right now, did he? He hadn’t fucked you last night, then brought you more pleasure this morning, only for him to send you back to camp like it hadn’t happened, right?

Astarion snorted. He was watching you as he slipped on his shoes. “Relax, darling, I see that face. I just want to show you something.” He held out a hand to help you up.

“Okay,” you smiled, soothed by the pleasant look on his face. “Do you want your shirt back?” You made to lift it over your head.

“Keep it for now, dear,” Astarion said. “I rather like that on you, truthfully.” The collar was slipping off your shoulder as you pulled on your pants, and you made no move to adjust it, opting not to put your bra back on yet.

“Do you want to wear my shirt?” you teased.

“Tempting, but I fear I’d look better in it than you do.”

“Excellent point, don’t do that.” You adjusted the ruffles on Astarion’s shirt and felt a light breeze on your cleavage through the lacey opening at the collar. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said. You looked up and caught Astarion staring at your chest.

You laughed as he cleared his throat, then gestured deeper into the woods with his head. “This way.” He held out a tentative hand and you took it eagerly, bringing the back of his palm up to your face to leave a gentle kiss. Astarion squeezed your hand slightly at the contact, and began heading further into the forest, away from camp. A pleasant silence hung between the two of you and you rubbed your thumb absently along the back of his hand.

It wasn’t long before the trees started to thin and you heard the sound of rushing water somewhere close by. You emerged from the trees to find a cliff overlooking a ravine below. On the other side of the ravine was more forest, and beyond that, you could faintly see the Sea of Swords. The sun peeked out over the horizon, bright reddish orange in the distance. Its glow was a welcome sight and you found yourself in awe of the view.

Astarion let go of your hand and sat, dangling his feet over the edge of the cliff. You hesitantly stepped forward and sat beside him, opting instead to sit with one knee up, the other leg crossed beneath it. Astarion sat back on his arms. The sun reflected off his skin in the most beautiful golden and magenta hues. His hair, somehow still perfect despite your night together, was being jostled lightly by the breeze. He’d closed his eyes and tipped his head up, basking. You couldn’t help watching him as you rested your cheek on your bent knee. 

He didn’t open his eyes when he said, “I try to come out here every morning.” 

You sat in silence, continuing to watch him as you prepared to listen to whatever he’d say next. 

“After two hundred years in darkness, you forget how lovely the sunrise is,” he said. “I don’t ever want to miss another.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like,” you said softly. 

Astarion hummed in acknowledgment and opened his eyes. “I’d catch glimpses while lurking around the city for too long before dawn, hopping from shadow to shadow until I made it back to Cazador’s manor.” His eyes didn’t waver from the sun in the distance. “But there were moments where I’d catch a glimpse of it over the Chionthar.” His tone became sardonic. “The promise of a new day emerging! Something that I would never get to participate in.” He sighed. “I’d linger as long as I could in those moments.” 

You nodded, picturing a hopeful Astarion hiding behind buildings and in alleys, trying to get a fleeting look at a phenomenon that occurred every day, one that you took for granted. Your heart ached for him. 

He continued. “I never quite told you what Cazador made his spawn do for him.”

You tried to recall what Astarion had said to you before. Only that he’d been made to go out into the city and bring back “the most beautiful souls” he could find. Then Cazador would make him either drink from a disgusting dead rat, or abuse him for refusing. The thought made you visibly shudder. 

“I know that you had to bring people back to-” you lowered your voice, as if saying his name might summon him, “-Cazador, against your will. And that he’d kill them.” 

Astarion nodded his head once, remorsefully. “I never told you how we lured them.”

You could see pain etched into his features. You reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. He flinched a bit at the contact, but settled when he looked over at you.

“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.”

“It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.”

“If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.”

Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” 

You cocked your head sympathetically. “And I take it two hundred years as a slave hasn’t really afforded you any choice.”

“Correct,” he sighed. “As a spawn, your vampiric master has complete control over your body and your actions. Even in moments where I wanted to defy or fight back, I was powerless to do anything.” 

Your heart jumped into your throat. You hadn’t realized that was how it worked. Having no control over yourself or your actions sounded like a complete nightmare and you were glad that you’d hopefully never have to experience it. Knowing that that had been Astarion’s entire existence for the past two centuries made you sick to your stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, just as you’d said the last few times he’d shared glimpses of his past.

Astarion’s eyes were closed once again as he inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He continued to bask in the rising sun for a few silent moments and you watched as it slowly rose higher into the sky. 

“That nightmare I had,” he said, his voice coming out quiet, “I’ve had it before.”

Again, you said nothing and waited for him to continue.

“I actually had the same one the night you let me drink your blood for the first time.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me that drinking my blood was some sort of revenge plot against me for haunting your nightmares.”

Astarion smiled a little. “No, it wasn’t about you. It was about Cazador.”

“You know, I’m really starting to dislike this guy,” you said, knowing how difficult this was for him and trying to keep his mood up with another little joke. 

“You and me both,” he sounded tired. “In the dream, I’m in the forest. Cazador appears and recites the rules of being his vampire spawn.” He held up his hand and recounted them on his fingers: “‘First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shall obey me in all things. Third, thou shalt not leave my side, unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.’” 

You listened patiently as Astarion recited each rule almost mechanically. You scrunched your nose with each passing instruction and rolled your eyes dramatically when Astarion finished.

“What a prick.”

He smiled again. “With an archaic speech pattern.”

“I was going to mention his archaic speech pattern.”

The smile faded slowly as Astarion returned to his thoughts. “The dream ends with Cazador telling me I’m his forever. That I can never escape.” 

You let the words hang in the air for a moment. “And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” he said humorlessly. He laid down fully on his back, the sun high enough to bathe him completely in its glow. He rested his arms behind his head and angled himself to look at you. “I realized, if I could walk in the sun, what other vampiric laws could I break?”

You looked down at him, admiring the light glinting off his bare chest. “So you decided to test your theory on me? I’m touched.” You held a hand to your chest, pretending to be deeply moved.

“In all honesty, I thought you were the least likely to kill me if I got caught.” He smirked at you. “And it would seem I was right.”

“I wouldn’t have let any of the others kill you,” you said firmly.

Astarion chuckled. “How sweet. My brave little protector.” He reached over to pinch your cheek.

You swatted him away. “Hey, who saved your ass from a bugbear yesterday?”

He shrugged. “I would have been fine.”

You leaned forward and shoved him lightly, making him laugh and throw his arm forward as a shield. 

When his laughter died down, his face grew a touch more serious again. “When you so graciously assaulted me this morning, he’d just finished telling me rule number three; that I can’t leave him unless he tells me to.”

You thought for a moment. “Which begs the question,” Astarion looked over at you expectantly, “how did you end up out here? From what I recall, the sun was still out when the nautiloid reached the Gate. You didn’t have the tadpole yet, so how’d you escape?”

“I wouldn’t say it was much of an escape.” His eyes shifted up to the sky, his expression thoughtful. “I was looking for new victims for Cazador. It was dusk and I had just been given the order to go out and hunt. I was weaving through shadows, avoiding the setting sun, but there’s only so many places one can hide from a giant tentacle that won’t burn you to a crisp. One of the tentacles caught me when I attempted to flee down an alleyway. A complete accident.”

“If it helps, I tripped while running away.”

“Of course you did.” He sighed. “Figures it would take an alien invasion to finally free me from his clutches. Not some,” he waved his hands in the air, gesturing to nothing in particular, “heroic figure sent by the gods to save me and smite that horrible man down to somewhere further and more vile than the Nine Hells.” His hands fell ungracefully to his sides.

He wasn’t wrong. How could any god worth their salt claim to be holier than thou when such suffering was occuring right under their noses? And you were pretty sure, based on tales you’d heard of Mystra and Shar from Gale and Shadowheart, that the gods hadn’t planned for the nautiloids or the rise of the Absolute. Yet if it weren’t for any of that, Astarion would still be trapped in Baldur’s Gate and your adventure thus far would have looked very different.

“If I’d known, I would have done something,” you said, knowing it was more complicated than that, but still wanting to help somehow. 

“Darling, if I’d met you in Baldur’s Gate, I would not have hesitated to take you to Cazador.”

That hurt. 

You said as much. “Ouch.”

“Well,” he sounded angry, though he directed it up towards the sky and not at you, “I wouldn’t have had a choice! Sure, it would have been a little novel, given how inexperienced you are, but regardless, I would have handed you off to him as soon as I’d made you finish.”

Ah. So that was how he lured people. It made sense, now that you put the pieces together; Astarion was so experienced because he had to be. Of course unsuspecting victims would fall prey to the allure of an eternally beautiful vampire, especially the one laying next to you. Of course the promise of pleasure from someone that sexy would be the obvious thing to agree to. It was a wonder your paths had never crossed before the nautiloid. 

“Once,” Astarion broke the silence that had fallen between you, his tone distant, “in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy who I couldn’t bear to bring back to him.” He finally looked over at you, his eyes full of sadness. “So I ran, instead of hurting that sweet man.”

You reached for his hand, then thought better of it. All his snide “don’t touch me’s” on the road now held a new, terrible weight.

“After Cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year. A year of silence”

A hand flew to your mouth. “Astarion…” you felt your eyes begin to prick with tears and did your best to will them away, fearing that they might make Astarion stop sharing.

He went on. “Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out, more months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death.” He took a deep breath, then blew it out shakily. “So no, I wouldn’t have hesitated, had we crossed paths.”

You opened and closed your mouth several times, attempting to find words that could possibly compose an appropriate response to the horrors you currently refused to picture. “I have no words,” is what you finally settled on, followed by an, “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing can make up for that,” he said quietly. “Not even Cazador’s death.” He paused. “Well, it would help a little, but the coward deserves a fate worse than death.”

“Can I hug you?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself.

Astarion blinked a few times, then sat up. “What?”

“I just… you’ve been through such hell and I want to hug you, but I don’t want to touch you without your permission.”

He looked you up and down and saw the sincerity evident on your face. “I… suppose.” He pulled his legs up from where they were still dangling above the ravine and turned to face you head on. 

“Thank you,” you said, still attempting to keep your tears at bay.

You leaned forward and weaved your arms beneath Astarion’s, hooking your arms up and placing your hands on his shoulder blades. You settled your face between his neck and shoulder and could feel that his arms were frozen rigidly in place in front of him. You took a shaky breath and stayed still, allowing Astarion to move at his own pace. 

His arms finally settled around you and he bent his head so his cheek rested against your hair. 

The two of you stayed like that for a while, relishing in the other’s closeness. You moved your hands back and forth across his back absently. When you caught yourself, you pulled back to look at him and asked, “Is it okay that I’m touching your back?”

Astarion chuckled softly. “Yes, my dear. It’s rather nice, actually.”

You smiled and nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck. Seriously, did he always smell this good?

Despite the pleasant distraction, something was nagging at your thoughts.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmured into his skin.

Astarion sighed dramatically. “If it has anything to do with my fangs, I’ll rip your throat out.”

You snickered to yourself. “No, not another dumb joke, I promise.”

“Then by all means.”

You pulled back once more to look at him in the face. His eyes widened when he saw your nervous expression. You avoided holding his gaze, feeling a little small. 

“Do you… want to be with me?”

Astarion looked taken aback. “What?”

“I mean… well…” You were having trouble sorting through your thoughts. Who were you to make this moment about yourself when Astarion had just been so open with you? And why couldn’t you trust him in what he had told you last night? Still, you had to know. You’d made it clear how much you cared for him and how much sleeping with him had meant to you. 

Given his past experiences, it made sense why he’d sleep with you, but you wanted to hear him say it. If this was all some ploy to manipulate you into doing what he wanted, even without Cazador’s instruction, you needed to know now. 

“Was I… just another conquest?” you asked, your tears reemerging. “Because if that’s the case, then I think we should end whatever this is.”

Astarion’s face was now inches away from yours. He moved a hand from your back and shifted it up to wipe a wayward tear that had escaped. He said your name softly.

“No, my sweet,” his other hand started rubbing soothing circles into your back. He pulled back a little. “Well, yes.”

You scoffed, another tear rolling down your cheek. 

Astarion was quick to correct. “No, no! I mean, at first, yes, it was my plan to seduce you and sleep with you.”

You let out a small whimpering noise and he tried to catch your eye. You kept your gaze glued on something in the distance, unseeing.

Astarion cleared his throat. “You- You’re valuable; someone willing to feed me, someone who advocated for me to stay with you all, even though you knew vampires were dangerous, someone who would protect me in battle, even if it meant sacrificing something important to you.”

Try as he might to get your attention back on him, your face remained blank as you stared into the distance.

“I wanted your continued protection.” He shrugged. “Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in and I thought I could secure that with sex.”

That got you to look at him, a sour expression on your face. “Have you met me?”

Astarion chuckled. “Yes, I have. And that’s what threw me for such a loop.”

You humphed.

“When I realized you’d be more of a challenge, I modified my plan.”

“I don’t love the direction this is headed.”

“Stay with me, darling” he said, “I promise I’m going somewhere with this.”

You exhaled and nodded for him to continue. 

“I did want to give you a good first experience, that much was true, but I will admit that I was still planning on using you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You realize how bad this sounds, right?”

“Will you-” he sighed. “Let me finish, damn you,” he brought his forehead to yours briefly, then pulled back. “So imagine how stupid I felt when I realized I genuinely felt something for you.”

That made you smile softly. 

He groaned. “And yes, it is because I find you to be… a lot of fun.” The last phrase sounded like it hurt coming out. 

Your soft smile transformed into one of smug satisfaction. “And when did you come to this conclusion?”

“Well first of all, look at you.” He smiled slyly and you playfully pushed his face away from yours, just as you had last night. After a moment, Astarion looked up, as if searching through his thoughts. “I suppose I’ve always found you to be amusing. You were so easy to fool in the beginning. I mean, the very first day we met, you thought I had one of those brain things cornered.”

“I had no reason not to believe you! And then you held a knife to my throat!” “Ah, memories,” he sighed wistfully. “But then we started traveling together, and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed more. Killing those goblins outside the Grove, fooling those trolls into working for us, taking out those Paladins of Tyr… you always had a sarcastic comment to contend with my sarcastic comments. Which is saying something.”

You snorted. “As if I wouldn’t have something to say.”

Astarion nodded. “You do talk a lot.” 

You chuckled softly, feeling better. Your arms were still wrapped around Astarion.

“It was when I kissed you.” His tone was thoughtful.

“Hmm?”

“When I really kissed you for the first time, there was something different about it.” His eyes flicked down to your lips momentarily. “Suddenly everything we’d been through came rushing back to my mind and there was this… pleasure I hadn’t felt. In an awfully long time.”

You smiled like a dope, bringing your forehead to his.

“I realized you weren’t going anywhere. And that you genuinely cared about what I thought and what I wanted.” He looked at you almost shyly. “No one in the past two hundred years has stayed.” Astarion pulled back and his inflection became flamboyant and playful: “Not that they had much of a choice, but it was a somewhat shocking revelation.” His tone then returned to one of sincerity: “And no one has cared for me as you have.”

You looked away, embarrassed by the kind words.“What can I say, I’m incredible.”

Astarion blew out a cool puff of air that tickled your face. “Annoyingly, you are.”

You looked back at him and smirked. “For me, it was when you asked me how I’d want to die.”

Astarion snorted. “Pardon?”

“When you asked me how I wanted to die on one of our first nights at camp. I genuinely had the thought, ‘Now here’s a guy who knows how to have a good time.’”

Astarion laughed brightly. You mirrored his grin.

“You said you wanted to be decapitated.” 

“How romantic of me,” he said, raising a seductive eyebrow. 

“Well it did spark the crush I’ve been harboring this whole time,” you felt your face heat up at the admission. “That, and your stupid beautiful face.”

Astarion sniffed mockingly. “Thank you, not enough people mention that.” Then he looked at you fondly. “But that long, eh? How adorable.” He rubbed his nose against yours teasingly. “And here you thought nothing would come of it.”

“Nothing usually does!” you exclaimed.

He laughed and leaned forward to kiss you once. “Not so loud.”

You lifted an eyebrow and gestured to the empty landscape around you. Astarion shrugged. You lowered your voice despite the lack of other people to bother.

“I am glad something came of it this time.” You settled your forehead onto his shoulder.

“As am I, my love,” he kissed your hair. “Though I have something else to admit.”

You pulled back and looked at him curiously.

Out of nowhere, he presented you with a knife.

“I did have a knife.”

You scoffed incredulously and whacked his arm. “I KNEW YOU HAD A KNIFE, YOU BASTARD!” You laughed loudly and pushed him backwards. 

He fell back onto his arms, laughing with you as you crawled on top and kissed him deeply. 

“Careful darling,” he murmured against your lips, “don’t move.”

You paused your movements, your lips still pressed firmly against his own. Astarion turned his head slightly to look over to his left at the treeline you’d emerged from not too long ago. You pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth and felt him grin. Then you felt his right arm come up and jerk slightly, followed by a “THUNK” sound off to your right. 

You waited a moment before you asked, “Can I move?” Your mouth was smushed against his face and your voice came out muffled.

He chuckled. “Yes, you can move now.” 

You sat up and looked to your right, the knife Astarion had pulled was now wedged deeply into the trunk of a nearby tree. You raised your eyebrows at him.

He stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam, his voice straining as he went. “Impressed?”

“Honestly? Yes.” You leaned back down and kissed him again. 

He hummed and his mouth moved against yours at a leisurely pace, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You kissed down his jaw and throat before coming to his collarbone and stopping.

“You’re sure you don’t want to fuck me again?” Your words came out a little shy and Astarion laughed. 

He twirled the ends of your hair around his finger. “Delicious as you were, my sweet, I think I’d prefer to take my time with you.” 

You pursed your lips, disappointed. 

“That’s not to say I don’t want to, darling, but…” His fingers stopped twirling your hair as he thought. “Like you said earlier, so much has changed in the last few hours. I’ve only just discovered that I can sleep with somebody because I actually want to.” His hand moved from your hair to your cheek. “I think I need some time to adjust to that.”

You nodded and bent to kiss him. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

He smiled up at you. “Thank you.”

You spent a few moments just looking at him, admiring how his eyes sparkled in the sun like rubies. You sighed noticeably. 

“What is it, love?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“Darling…” He raised his eyebrows at you. 

“No, it’s inappropriate right now.” You looked away.

You felt his hand in your hair, and his voice was conspiratory, “I love when you talk dirty.”

You sighed again and looked him in the eye. “One of these days, when you’re ready, I’m going to look into your gorgeous eyes as I make you come.”

Astarion sputtered out a surprised laugh. “Easy there, lover,” he gave you a sultry look, “I may just take you up on that.”

You sat up and spread your hands over his chest. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He brought both hands up to his face and groaned loudly before dragging them back down his face and looking at you. “Come lay in the sun with me, will you?”

You pouted but rolled off of him and curled into his side. 

“There now,” he said, arching his chest upwards towards the sky where the sun had now risen for the day, “isn’t this nice?”

You inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the trees and the sounds of the ravine below. You exhaled and closed your eyes, warmed by the sun and comforted by the presence of Astarion beside you. He himself had his eyes closed and looked peacefully content. You nuzzled further into his side, enjoying how his cool skin contrasted with the warmth coming from above.

Before you could even register that you were still tired from your early wakeup call this morning, you’d drifted back into a comfortable sleep.

~~~~~

You were awoken some time later by a lick to the face. 

You shut your eyes tighter and groaned. “Gross, Astarion, I’m trying to sleep.” You threw an arm over your eyes, the sun now directly overhead. 

“Did you find them, boy?” A voice shouted from the distance.

Your eyes shot open and found Scratch panting above you, wagging his tail excitedly. 

You sat up quickly and immediately leaned over to shake Astarion who appeared to be trancing soundly. 

“Astarion,” you shook him anxiously. 

He scowled, his eyes still closed. He groaned lowly.

“Astarion, my dear, my sweet, my beloved,” you shook him harder and his eyes opened immediately. He sat up, fast as lightning.

“What’s happening? Where’s my knife?” He looked around frantically until his eyes landed on you. “Ah,” he said, calming, “déjà vu.” 

“They’re coming,” you hissed.

“Who?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, thoughts still foggy from his trance. 

“No FUCKING way!” Came Karlach’s voice from the treeline. 

You looked over and found her with an elated grin on her face and her hands on her knees. She started laughing loudly and you hid your face in your hands. 

“You guys did NOT,” she wheezed. 

“Hello Karlach,” Astarion’s voice sounded nonchalant beside you. “What brings you out to ruin our beauty sleep?” 

“Did you find them?” Shadowheart soon emerged from the forest and stopped in her tracks. She surveyed the area and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Astarion, tell me you didn’t.”

“Did what, darling?” He sounded smug and you looked over at him. His expression matched his tone. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I fucking knew this would happen,” Karlach said, coming down from her laughing fit. “Soldier’s had her eye on you for a while now, Fangs.”

“Karlach!” You whisper-shouted.

“Oh, I’m aware,” you felt Astarion turn his head to look at you. 

Suddenly Gale, Lae’zel, and Wyll joined the fray. Scratch ran to them and happily weaved between them as they emerged. 

“We heard a commotion, did you find them?” Gale halted when he saw you and Astarion sitting together on the ground, him shirtless, you wearing his shirt. “No,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yes,” Astarion said, tilting his head against yours. You gave him a dirty look. 

“Chk! Was that filthy nest of our blankets your doing?” Lae’zel asked, cradling her greatsword proudly. 

You groaned and hid your face in your hands again. 

“It would appear so,” Wyll confirmed awkwardly. 

“You vampires have a disgusting way of mating if that nest was any indication,” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes and lifted her nose in the air judgmentally. “Far too soft.”

Astarion scoffed and pulled back from you. “I’ll have you know that vampires mate in the most satisfying- well, we don’t mate, necessarily, we’re not dogs, but we, well at least I, am always an exemplary lover.”

Shadowheart ignored him and walked forward, crouching down and resting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“What?” you laughed in disbelief. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“He didn’t… coerce you into something, did he?”

“Excuse me?” Astarion sounded insulted. “I always ask permission first, darling.”

“Your charms can be quite overwhelming at times, Astarion,” Gale said. 

“And wouldn’t you like having my charms turned on you, wizard,” Astarion sneered. 

“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Wyll held up his hands, gesturing for the others to relax.

“Everyone!” You raised your voice. All eyes settled on you. “Nothing happened between us that I didn’t expressly and happily agree to.”

Karlach started chuckling again. “Good for you, Soldier.”

“Thank you, Karlach,” said Astarion. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

He shrugged. “What?”

You groaned and stood up, wiping grass and forest debris off your clothes. You adjusted Astarion’s shirt on your shoulders, making sure you weren’t showing off too much to your companions. 

“Is there a reason you all came out here? Or was it just to mortify me? Because mission accomplished!”

“It’s midday,” informed Wyll. “We grew worried when the two of you seemingly vanished and didn’t return.”

“Halsin and the tieflings are coming to camp tonight to celebrate our victory against the goblins,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. 

“Yes, and it wouldn’t be a great look if our leader and the gangly one were missing,” Gale said.

“Gangly?!” Astarion exclaimed, very clearly not gangly. 

“You’re- okay, well, I hadn’t seen you shirtless before now,” Gale amended. 

“Like what you see?” Astarion teased. 

“Astarion,” you scolded. 

He sighed and got up, wrapping an arm around you and resting a hand on your hip. 

You went red as you watched your companions track his hand. 

“Listen, people,” Astarion said, sounding serious. 

You saw your companions’ eyes shift to the vampire. 

“Don’t give her a hard time. This was my doing.” Shadowheart was about to say something but Astarion raised his voice a bit. “While yes, she gave permission in everything that we did, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t suggested it in the first place.”

“I could have suggested something much better, surely,” Lae’zel huffed.

“I mean, did you-?” Karlach thrust her hips in the air with her fists at her sides.

“Oh my gods,” you groaned.

“I don’t kiss and tell, darling,” Astarion said, squeezing your hip slightly. 

Karlach smirked smugly and winked at you both. 

You shook your head and looked up, silently begging any god that was listening to kill you and to do it quickly. 

“We should get back to camp,” Wyll suggested diplomatically. “Let these two collect themselves.” 

“So what does this mean?” Shadowheart asked, ignoring Wyll. 

“Shadowheart,” Wyll warned but she waved him off.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Are you only going to sleep with the pathetic vampire moving forward?” Lae’zel stated bluntly.

You and Astarion looked at each other. You saw the slightest flash of uncertainty in his eyes and smiled. “If he’ll let me,” you said. 

A small smile appeared on his face in return.

Lae’zel groaned. “K'chakhi. Your loss.” She turned and walked back into the forest, slinging her greatsword over her back.

You bit your lip, feeling guilty about Lae’zel’s feelings, but Karlach soon slid into your vision. “Congrats, you crazy kids,” she laughed and pretended to punch your arm, then followed on Lae’zel’s heels, Scratch bounding close behind her.

Gale walked over, his face stoic. He stood in front of Astarion and held out his hand. 

Astarion scowled. “What is this, do you want some sort of handout?” 

“I want to shake your hand, you buffoon,” Gale sounded frustrated. 

“Gale…” you said sorrowfully. 

“No no, think nothing of it,” he waved you off. “The right man won out in the end.”

Astarion took his hand and shook it. “Better luck next time,” he jeered. 

“Astarion,” you scolded again. “You both know I’m not something to win, right?”

“Of course you’re not,” Gale nodded. “Apologies, I misspoke. I’ll see you both at camp. Lunch is bread and cheese to save room for tonight’s festivities.” He stiffly turned and walked back towards the trees. Wyll gave him a sympathetic look, then caught your eye. He nodded somewhat sadly and followed after Gale. 

“Well that certainly doesn’t feel good,” you said, holding a hand to your chest and breathing deeply.

“Not quite finished yet, love,” Astarion nodded over towards Shadowheart who lingered nearby. 

She approached slowly, holding her hands behind her back. Astarion released your hip and moved away, sensing what Shadowheart aimed to do. You looked at him curiously, but your attention was drawn back to Shadowheart as she threw her arms around your neck. 

“You’re happy?” She asked softly.

“Shadowheart…” you smiled into her hair. “Yes, I’m happy. Thank you.”

She pulled back to look at you in the eyes, double checking your expression. When she saw that you were genuine, she nodded. She cleared her throat and looked over at Astarion. 

She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Hurt her, and you will never know a happy day again.”

Astarion held up his hands defensively. “I won’t-”

“You have never known the pain of Lady Shar’s wrath, and you’d be smart to keep it that way, so help me gods, Astarion.”

“I got it,” he said flatly. 

“Our Lady of Loss would not hesitate to strike you where you stand-”

“I think he gets it,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Astarion before she looked back at you. “I’ll see you at camp. Don’t dally.” She looked pointedly at Astarion who shrugged helplessly. 

When she headed back into the forest, you and Astarion were finally alone. 

You let out a heavy sigh.

“That was a lot,” Astarion joined you at your side.

“Wait, did you know those people?” you smirked at him.

“Vaguely,” he smirked back and caught you in a kiss. “At least I don’t have to hold back from doing that at camp now.” He held you close in his arms.

You sighed again and laid your head on his shoulder. “You were right. I didn’t realize so many of them felt something for me.”

“That seems to be because you block out the advances of others.”

You shoved him playfully. “How dare you turn my pitiful backstory against me.”

He smiled and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go dismantle that ‘disgusting’ nest.” He did his best to impersonate Lae’zel on “disgusting.” 

It made you laugh. “Okay.”

You took his hand and let him lead you through the trees back to the blankets and pillows that you’d spent the night on. 

When you arrived, you picked up your shirt and bra, feeling mild embarrassment that the others had probably seen them and drawn (correct) conclusions. You removed Astarion’s shirt and threw it back at him, hitting him in the face and quickly covered your chest with your forearm. 

Astarion laughed as his shirt fell into his awaiting hands. “Darling, you don’t have to hide from me,” he narrowed his eyes seductively. “I’ve already seen it all.” He tossed the shirt aside and made his way over to you.

“Feels different in the light of day,” you admitted self-consciously. “Worse, I guess.”

“Now, now,” he said, gently pulling your arm away from your chest, “let me see you in the daylight.” You allowed him to move your arm but didn’t look at him. “Lovely,” he breathed, and kissed you hard. 

You inhaled in surprise, but immediately gave in and slipped your tongue into his mouth and your arms over his shoulders. His hand came up and began massaging your left breast, his icy touch sending a shock wave through you and making you moan. 

Instantly, you pulled away and took a step back. “Careful,” you said as Astarion stared at you wide-eyed, his hand frozen in the air where he’d been palming your breast, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a dry heave. “Stop being so nice to me,” he avoided your gaze. “It makes me want to… be nice back.”

“Gods forbid,” you laughed, and bent to pick up your bra which had fallen back amongst the pillows. 

All of a sudden, you found yourself face down in the blankets, the wind knocked out of you and Astarion’s body weight pressed firmly on top of you.

“Astarion,” you wheezed, “what are you doing?”

His voice was sultry in your ear, “If you’ll remember, I said I wanted to take my time with you.”

Sexy as that was, you couldn’t breathe. You reached behind yourself and smacked Astarion’s back with your palm. “Living creatures need to breathe, idiot!”

“Oh,” he realized his error and rolled off of you. You had no time to adjust yourself before he flipped you over and hovered above you on his hands and knees. 

You blew some hair out of your face, irritated. “Did you just tackle me like I was some sort of prey?”

“My dear, I would never,” he bowed his head and kissed your neck.

“And yet I find myself on the ground, even though I didn’t put myself here,” you tangled your hands in his hair, your voice wobbly. 

“You’ve always been rather clumsy,” he murmured teasingly. 

You took a deep breath and pushed him away. His lips were still puckered, making you giggle. “Shadowheart told us not to dally,” you reminded him. “And she threatened to kill you, what? Three times?”

“You forget that I’m already dead,” he smiled. “What’s another little death?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

You snorted. “Bad.”

“I thought that was rather clever, actually.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “We should really head back.”

Astarion whined and hung his head. “Let me have you again, woman!”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said!” He lifted his head and looked you in the eye. “And while I appreciate your concern, right now, I very much want to be inside of you again.”

You smiled cautiously. “Are you sure?”

He rolled his eyes and kissed you, lowering his body to roll his hips against yours and making his erection very obviously. You jolted at the unexpected sensation and he pulled back.

“Unless this is too much for you,” he searched your face for hesitancy. “You’re probably still sore and we don’t have to rush anything-”

You gripped the back of his head and tightened your fist into his curls. “Please,” you whispered, “fuck me again.”

A wicked grin bloomed on Astarion’s face and he kissed you passionately, rolling his hips against yours for friction. You moaned into his mouth, but he broke the kiss after only a few moments. “Like I said, love, I want to take my time with you.”

He rose up onto his knees and began untying the laces of your pants. You watched him intently and bit your lip as he removed them fully from your legs. He made quick work of his own and crawled back on top of you. His thumb hooked under your panties and his eyes met yours. You nodded and he pulled them down gently and discarded them close by. He then laid beside you, his eyes heavy with lust.

“Come here, precious thing,” he purred and you inched yourself closer to him. “Turn around,” he instructed. You gave him a confused half smile but did what he asked. He reached forward and pulled your hips back, causing you to feel his still-clothed cock against your ass.

“What are you doing?” you asked nervously. 

Astarion chuckled. “Not that, fear not.” He kissed your shoulder as he slid his left arm under you and settled his hand on your lower stomach. A chill ran through you as he nuzzled his head onto your shoulder. “Fair warning,” you could hear the mischief in his voice as his right hand made itself known in front of your face. He wiggled his fingers in a delicate wave, then brought it down between your thighs. 

A gasp escaped your throat when you felt his fingers swipe through your folds.

Astarion tilted his head and kissed your throat. “So wet already, darling.”

“You’re handsome,” you said by way of explanation.

He hummed against your shoulder and began to rub your clit. A shuddering breath left your mouth and your eyes fluttered shut. Astarion paused for a moment to lift your leg and hike it back over his. “This will feel good,” he said against your skin and dragged his fingers through your folds again before inserting a digit into your cunt. 

You threw your head back in surprised pleasure, which made Astarion turn and nip at your ear. He began pumping and curling his finger slowly inside of you. Your breath caught when his thumb resumed its spot on your clit and whined when his finger inside of you hit a particularly sensitive spot. He adjusted his angle to hit it repeatedly. 

“Astarion,” you moaned, your head clouded with nothing but ecstasy. 

“Yes, my sweet, you’re gripping me so tight,” his voice was sensual in your ear. “Do you think you can take a little more?”

You nodded, your eyes shut tight. 

“Words, darling.”

“Another…” you said breathily.

“Another what?”

Your voice was sing-songy. “Astarion, if you don’t put another finger in me right now, I’m leaving you.”

He laughed loudly before moving his mouth close to your ear again. “You like me too much.” Then he leaned up a little to catch your eye, his finger still pumping between your thighs. “Right?”

You smiled sympathetically, seeing your words had spooked him a little. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” you clarified. “But I might kill you.”

“Got it,” Astarion dragged his index finger through your folds, then carefully added it to your cunt alongside his middle finger. 

You exhaled, moving your hand down from his cheek to his hand resting on your stomach. You laced your fingers together and squeezed when he hit a particularly good spot, getting you to moan out an, “Oh, gods.”

“Like that?” He asked cockily, reaching and curling to hit the spot again. 

“Yes, my love,” you sighed, grinning upwards with your eyes closed. 

Behind you, you felt Astarion’s cock twitch.

Your eyes opened and you looked back at him. 

He smiled back at you sheepishly. “It does that sometimes, darling. When something is particularly arousing.”

Your breaths were coming out short and keeping in time with the pumping of his fingers. “Was it… ‘my love?’”

Astarion let out a low moan and hid his face in your shoulder before reemerging and nodding. “Coming from you while you’re in the throes of passion with me is really… something.”

You laughed between whimpers. “My… loooooove,” you sang, squeezing his hand again. “Your fingers feel heavenly, my looooove.”

“Fuck this,” Astarion said, pulling his fingers out of you unceremoniously and curling you forward with his body so he could shimmy out of his underwear. 

“What are you doing,” you winced and whined childishly, “I was so close!”

“Unfortunately, darling, if I’m not inside you within a matter of seconds, I’m going to lose it completely.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” you said, half dazed and still coming down from your almost climax. 

You felt his hand bump your ass as he pumped his cock and you instantly went stiff. “You’re not going to…?”

Astarion let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, my sweet, you’re not nearly ready for something like that yet.”

A relieved sigh escaped you. 

“We could always work our way up-”

“No, that’s okay,” you said quickly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with-”

“No, of course not-”

“But we can-”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” you patted Astarion’s cheek.

“Understood,” he nodded and resumed pumping his cock. “Hook your leg back over mine, darling.” When you followed his instruction, he kissed your shoulder once more. You felt the head of his cock glide through your folds until it prodded at your entrance and you let out a shaky exhale. “Don’t be scared,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “Are you ready?”

You inhaled. “Yes.”

Just as he had last night, Astarion was slow to enter you. This time you heard him whimpering with his mouth so close to your ear. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, dragging his fangs from your shoulder to your neck, “still so tight.”

“Obviously,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut, but not feeling nearly as uncomfortable as you had the first time he’d entered you. You let out a satisfied exhale when his hips bumped your ass. 

“Let me know what I can move,” Astarion said against your skin, his words barely recognizable. 

“You can move,” you said almost immediately, reaching a hand up behind you and twisting it into Astarion’s hair. You moved it over a little to play with the tip of his ear.

He let out a loud groan and snapped his hips forward, probably with more force than he meant to. “Apologies,” he whispered, “that felt heavenly.”

“Keep going, my love,” you encouraged and he caught your eye with a seductive smile. 

He continued to pump his cock into your dripping hole and brought his right hand down to your clit. He licked a stripe from your neck up to your ear. “You know, I really did intend to take my time with you just now,” he spoke lowly from the back of his throat. As if to illustrate his point, he slowed his hips to take long, languid strokes out, and then moved back into you at an equally slow pace. His thumb on your clit slowed as he disconnected his left hand from yours and brought it up to fondle your breast. He kissed up your shoulder to your neck sloppily and sucked on the fading bite marks from last night. 

You moaned loudly, hooking your foot around his calf and tightening your fist in his hair. “We’d really be dallying, then,” you commented.

He made a frustrated noise. “Don’t even allude to the cleric right now,” he pulled away from your neck. “Unless it’s to tell me I’m a much better lover than her.” He snapped his hips into you, hard. 

“I don’t have much of a reference, genius,” you responded breathlessly. 

“Right,” he said, and picked up speed at your clit. His mouth returned to sucking on your throat. 

“Oohhh,” you sighed. You let out a gasp when Astarion’s left hand pinched your nipple.

“You feel wonderful, my darling,” spit connected him to your neck.

“So do you,” you brought your hand up to cover Astarion’s that was kneading your breast. “You can bite me, if you want.”

He groaned loudly and bumped his nose against your jaw. “Well,” he said between thrusts, “if you insist.” 

He kissed your throat before biting down, his hips instantly picking up speed. 

The ice that shot into your veins was a shock as always, but melted into a fuzzy pleasure that had your eyes drooping in ecstasy. 

Astarion took long pulls of your blood as he continued thrusting, circling your clit, and needing your breast. How he was keeping track of everything at once was beyond you in this pleasant, foggy state. 

“Darling,” he pulled away suddenly, swallowing loudly and seemingly out of breath. “May I taste you as you come?”

Your tongue lolled to the side, but his voice snapped you out of it. You nodded up at him. “Yes, please.”

“What do you need?” He licked the wounds on your neck. 

“As much as I’m enjoying you taking your time,” you said, “harder and faster.”

“Easy,” a cocky grin graced his face as a drop of your blood dripped down his chin. 

His hips picked up a brutal pace that nearly had you reaching your peak, and he pressed further onto your clit, his tight circles picking up speed as well. 

“Oh, Astarion,” you moaned loudly, reaching back again to grip his hair.

“Come for me, dearest,” he spoke softly against your throat, but loud enough that you could hear, “I want to hear you sing again. I want to taste how sweet your blood is when I make you cum on my cock.” He continued leaving sloppy kisses against your neck.

“I’m close,” you confirmed, your eyes shut tight and your body tensing. 

“Go ahead, love, I’ve got you,” his hard thrusts were becoming uneven, but ever the professional, his voice remained mostly even. “You’re so tight and warm, thank you for letting me taste you.” He kissed your mouth. “Darling.” Another kiss. “Beloved.” One more. “Mine.”

You cried out as you fell over the edge, your cunt squeezing his cock repeatedly, only to cry out again as you felt Astarion’s fangs enter your neck once more. 

“Astarion!” You shouted, squeezing his hand and pulling his hair and wrapping your shaking leg around his. Almost simultaneously, you felt Astarion spill inside you as he moaned your name loudly into your neck, his hips pulsing clumsily against you. 

The sensation of him drawing your blood was still pleasantly fuzzy, but you could feel yourself becoming light headed. You tapped his arm twice, your signal for him to stop, and he pulled away, leaning his forehead against your temple and breathing heavily. 

“Still cumming,” he groaned and clenched his teeth, his hips faltering in their rhythm. 

After another moment, his body finally relaxed and he pulled you closer into his chest, catching his breath. “That was… amazing,” he sighed happily, leaning forward to lick the remaining blood from your neck. “If I knew blood could taste that good-” His voice trailed off. “Well, I’m sure I’d do something about it if I could.” He seemed pleased with his own answer and hummed contentedly behind you.

“I’m glad it was to your liking,” you said, looking back at him with a smile. He bent forward and kissed you happily. “I’m like a fine vintage,” you teased.

Astarion pursed his lips. “You’re far from vintage, darling, you’ll have to work on your wine related japes.” 

You laughed and a comfortable silence fell between you. Astarion rested both of his hands on your stomach. Which growled suddenly.

“What’s that like?” He teased, licking a wayward drop of blood from the side of his mouth. 

Your body tensed. “Oh gods, bread and cheese!”

Astarion blinked at you. “Are those some sort of new deities I’m not aware of, or-?”

“No, that’s what Gale said we’re having for lunch.”

“And that’s important because-?”

“Because we DALLIED and there’s a PARTY tonight and now Shadowheart is going to KILL us.”

“I see.” Astarion remained still, fixed in place. Then suddenly he was pulling out of you at a breakneck speed and reaching for his clothes. 

You winced a little at the sensation but scrambled for your own clothes, wiping yourself down with the cloth Astarion provided again and got dressed in what was probably record time. 

Incredibly, you both looked presentable. 

“We do make a gorgeous pair,” Astarion cocked his hip and smirked at you, going in for a kiss.

You swatted him away. “Enough flirting, loverboy, we can talk about us later!” You started reaching for blankets and pillows. 

“Us,” Astarion stood on the sidelines, testing out the word on his tongue. “I do so like the sound of that.”

“Help me, would you?” You threw a pile of blankets at him, hitting him in the face and blowing his hair back. 

He groaned. “It should be a crime to rush after you’ve just made love to the most amazing woman.” He came up behind you and smacked your butt teasingly. 

You stood up straight and tried to look angry. “We are going to die if we don’t head back right now.” Astarion wasn’t buying your anger, so you turned bashful. “You made loooove to me?” You clasped your hands together by your face. “You think I’m amaaaazing?” You twirled some of your hair for good measure.

Astarion sighed. “Be serious, woman, we’re going to die!” His voice was exasperated but he smirked at you. He bent to pick up more blankets and pillows and you did the same until you both had piles you could barely see over and nothing was left behind.

“Ugh, I’m going to have to do so much laundry,” you muttered. “Seriously, how did you manage bringing all this out here?”

“Well first, everything was folded neatly.”

“We don’t have time.”

“And second, multiple trips, darling.”

“We can’t afford to leave camp EVER again.”

Try as you might to rush back to camp, you still had to maneuver through a forest and be careful where you stepped. The pair of you moved as quickly as you could, which wasn’t as fast as was probably necessary to avoid Shadowheart’s ire. 

“Soooo…” You broke the silence after a few moments. 

“Gods,” Astarion rolled his eyes, “what?”

“‘My love,’ huh?” You waggled your eyebrows at him.

“What about it?”

“You liiiiiiked it,” you teased. 

“I-” You could see that he thought about arguing but decided not to. “I’m not used to the pet names turned on me. It’s… nice.”

“You’re cute,” you said, looking over at him affectionately and nearly tripping over a tree root as a result.

Astarion snickered, then made his face serious. “I’m the furthest thing from cute. I’m a horrifying monster.” He lowered his voice as if that would back him up.

“Yeah, but you like being mushy.” 

“I do not.”

“You do!” You moved closer to him and bumped his hip with your own. “You were so sweet to me yesterday. And just now.” 

“It’s different with you,” he said quietly.

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows.

“It’s… um… This is stupid, I hate it.” He tried to walk ahead of you but you caught up easily.

“No, no! Please.” You gave him a reassuring look. “I, of all people, will not judge you.”

He sighed. “It’s just… nice to feel like something is mine.” He was quick to correct, “Not that I own you but… I don’t know. You’re not a victim. Not a target. Not just… one night it’s better to forget. You’re something entirely new.”

You smiled over at him. “I like you too, weirdo.”

Astarion humphed. “Whatever.” He moved closer and bumped your hip with his own. The two of you shared a fond look, then turned back to the path ahead.

If Shadowheart was going to kill you, at least you’d die together. 

You both quickened your pace to try and avoid that fate, but it was a lovely thought.

Soon, you began to make out the bright colors of your tents through the trees and the sound of your companions chatting by the fire. 

You turned to Astarion. “See you on the other side.”

He nodded, determined. “It’s been a pleasure servicing you, darling.”

“I hope she kills you first.”

You shared a laugh before you took a calming breath. 

And stepped into camp. 

[buck-star]

Hii I saw that you are looking for prompts for drabbles, could you do a fluffy one with Bucky with the dialogue “you give the best hug” and the prompts 9&35 from the touching list? Thank you 🫶🏻

Can you do that thing?

You’re giving the best hugs, but you also know the right words to assure Bucky the way he needs when he doesn’t see himself as the precious man he is.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 1.337 Words

Warnings/Tags: hurt/comfort, anxiety, ptsd, mention of Hydra, scars, fluff

Authors Note: Thank you for the request. Hope you enjoy it. Prompts 9 and 35: listening to the other’s heartbeat and kissing the other’s scars and bruises. Hope you enjoy. Divider made by me.

Events: Fandom-Free Bingo: Frosty Edition [N4 | “I’m not going anywhere.”]

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You slowly open your eyes, your hand roaming over the other side of the bed. It’s cold and empty, no hint that your boyfriend was already in bed. You turn slowly, your eyes narrowing when the pillow is still the same as it was when you went to bed.

‘Just this movie, then I will come to bed’ he said before you got into bed.

You know about his insomnia and that he tosses and turns around for a while after missions or nightmares. As much as you hate it, and hate that he considers being alone and watching television, you also want to give him some space to let him calm down.

Bucky knows that whenever he feels like it, he could wake you up and you would sit down all night to listen to him if it’s what he needs. Or you would spend an hour bathing him and massaging him at three in the morning because that’s what he needs to calm down after a nightmare.

With a soft sigh, you sit up straight, giving your eyes another moment to get used to the darkness before you look around the room. There’s still no sign that Bucky made his way to the bed already — his clothes aren’t hanging over the chair on his bedside, and the glass of water that he always places on his nightstand isn’t there either — which means Bucky’s still in the living room.

You get out of the bed, the wooden floor cold underneath your warm skin, and you feel a shiver immediately running down your spine. You reach out, taking the shirt that’s placed over the chair on your side of the bed.

A soft smile spreads across your face when you take in the musky, sandalwood-vanilla scent of Bucky. You feel the soft fabric on the middle of your thigh, chuckling when you notice how much bigger your boyfriend is. While the shirt is fitting him perfectly, it’s like a dress for you — probably the reason you love his clothes so much; they are soft, smelling like him, and are just oversized.

Slowly you walk to the living room, hearing the sound of the television when you walk along the hallway. You notice it’s one of his comfort movies, and you feel your heart warming when you find him wrapped in a blanket on the couch, sitting there and staring at the television. But something is off with him.

“Bucky?” You mumble softly, loud enough for him to hear you over the sound of the television but not too loud to startle him. He slowly turns around, facing you.

Bucky has dark shadows underneath his slightly red eyes. He’s clutching the blanket around him; your stomach drops when he forces a smile onto his lips. His body is trembling, and you notice the tears that keep soaking his cheeks when he turns his head enough that the light of the television comes from the side.

“I'm sorry, I wanted— I didn't want to wake you up,” he mumbles quietly, pulling the blanket even tighter around himself. The usual broad, strong soldier looks so small and terrified the way he sits there with tears in his eyes and slumped shoulders.

You walk a few steps closer to him, waiting for his reaction. Bucky watches you intensely, his eyes roaming over your body until he notices that you're not wearing socks. A soft smile creeps onto his plump lips, and he clears his throat.

“You don't like cold feet, baby doll,” he mumbles — knowing that you hate it when your feet get cold. You always complain about it when you miss socks somewhere and have to walk through the apartment to get them. But right now you don't care about cold feet or socks.

“I know, but your side of the bed was so cold too; couldn't warm my feet,” you chuckle softly. Bucky nods, his smile reaching his eyes and brightening the blue before it falls again. His hands are shaking, and he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself — like he’s trying to calm down from the anxiety attack he has.

You walk closer to him, sitting down next to him on the couch. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down with you. Bucky whimpers but lays down on top of you, his hands immediately finding your waist to hold you close — making sure you're not going away.

Bucky turns his head slightly, pressing his ear over your chest to listen to your heartbeat. You smile softly, bringing one of your hands to his hair. Slowly, you run them through his brown locks, massaging his scalp. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It's just… on the mission. They… there was that…” Bucky interrupts himself, pulling you even closer against his muscular body. He inhales shakily, closing his eyes for a moment where he just listens to your heartbeat. “There was that… a chair… not a big deal; I mean, Hydra bases have a lot of chairs, don't they?”

You nod, listening to him. You stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt him. With your fingers still tangled in his hair, you let him know that you listen, that he can continue to talk if he wants to.

“I saw… I saw myself in that chair again. I felt the pain they caused, and it…” Bucky sobs quietly, hiding his face on your chest, trying to muffle his sounds. Your heart aches when you see him so hurt and vulnerable, knowing that he thinks he's weak and pathetic. “I-I'm sorry.”

“You're doing nothing wrong, Buck,” you whisper, kissing his hair softly. “Take a deep breath for me. I'm not going anywhere.”

“I thought about the times… the times when I… when I tried to rip off my metal arm so they… so the Winter Soldier would… they wouldn’t need me anymore. But it… the arm… it's connected with my shoulder, and I only caused these ugly scars,” Bucky stumbles over his words, his body trembling, and he has an almost bruising grip around your hips.

“They aren't ugly at all; they belong to you. And they only show how strong you are. Buck, they might remember you that you were captured by Hydra and that you were the Winter Soldier, but the scars aren't ugly; they never could be,” you assure him, running your fingers further through his hair to his neck.

Bucky moves his head, looking at you with teary eyes. “They don't?” He whispers, looking almost pleading that you keep assuring him that his scars don't look bad.

“They don't look ugly. You don't look ugly, Buck. You're the most beautiful man I have ever seen, even with your scars,” you mumble, smiling softly. Bucky nods, turning the two of you around so he's underneath you, taking a deep breath.

“C-Can you do that… that thing?”

With a soft chuckle, you move down so your legs are between his thick ones, and your face hovers above his breast. Bucky's hands remain on your hips, while you bring yours to his shoulders, sliding them softly over them to his chest. You then lean down and kiss his scars softly — each and every scar around his shoulder.

Bucky whimpers quietly before he slowly relaxes and closes his eyes. Bucky rubs his thumbs over your hipbones, sighing softly. Your lips feel so soft and gentle against his scars.

“Thank you, you're good at that, making me feel pretty and loved. And you give the best hugs, baby doll,” Bucky mutters, smiling softly. You keep kissing his scars with a soft smile. Buck's breath steady, his muscles relaxing, and he slowly drifts off to sleep. “I love you, baby doll, so much.”

“I love you too, with your scars, my pretty baby,” you giggle, knowing he will protest that he's not a pretty baby. But you get only a huff and a sleepy smile with a chuckle that vibrates in his chest from your sleepy pretty man.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers@iris-xoxo-juhu @fckedupandbeautiful @hisredheadedgoddess28 @casa-boiardi @blackhawkfanatic @mrsalexstan @thesarcasmqueen-22 @kandis-mom @peachy-satan00 @armystay89 @queen-honeybee-stories [add yourself.]

[world-of-aus]

The Arrangement - Chapter 1

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Feels. Angsty Dialogue.

Author's Note: Any and all writing errors are mine. First official chapter of the arrangement and I can't wait to delve more into this series. Also, did y'all catch onto what I did at the end there? Enjoy!

“Please just talk to me.” 

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active. 

“You love him, he loves you, please reconsider I know you’re scared but please don’t do this.” 

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active. 

“Please don’t make me do this.. he chose you, he loves you..we planned YOUR wedding I can’t do this please just come home.” 

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active. 

Your fathers' hands come to rest over yours stopping you from sending another pleading text to your sister.  

“That’s enough sweetheart.” he says as he pries your phone from your hands. 

You want to scream that it’s not, to yell till you’re red in the face just how unfair this all was.  

“She just needs time dad, she’s just scared, you need to reconsider.” 

Your dad shakes his head pulling you into his side the best he can despite the seat belts strapping you in.  

“Your sister has made up her mind, and there’s no changing that. You and I both know it was always meant to be like this, you and him, it had been decided upon when we first drew up the merger contract.” 

But he chose her not me. He fell in love with her not me. 

“That original contract was discarded dad, I was there the night it was redrawn.” the night my heart broke further, “He loves her dad.” and no contract would change that. 

“And he’ll grow to love you too sweetheart, he’d be dumb and blind if he didn’t.” 

Your eyes slip shut a shaky breath leaving your lips. Many moons ago you would have believed those words, but now? Now all it does is bring you pain. You didn’t want to be somebody’s second choice. You didn’t want to have to force somebody to consider loving you. 

“It’s going to be okay sweetheart, you’ll see it’ll all be okay, there’s no one more capable of getting through this than you.” He murmurs pressing a kiss to your head just as the family car rolls to a stop. 

Through the tint you can see the grand entrance of the Barnes residence, Winnifred Barnes and Rebecca Barnes waiting at the door. 

Seeing your best friend stood by her mother you couldn’t help but wonder what Rebecca was doing here, she was supposed to be closing a deal with Romanoff, she wasn’t due to get back till the day before the wedding or at least that’s what the two of you had discussed over text. 

Your driver opens the door for you and your father then, your father stepping out first holding out a hand for you to help you exit the car. You’ve just straightened yourself out when Rebecca runs for you her arms getting around you in record time as she squeezes you to her. Winnifred scolds her from where she stands at the entrance but you can’t help to laugh, your arms going around your friend, “what are you doing here, you weren’t supposed to be back yet for another couple of days.” You breathe. Rebecca pulls back only slightly to take you in, “I closed with Romanoff within a day, as soon as the news broke, I booked the first flight home, I wanted to be here for my best friend, I know it’s what you would have done for me.” 

Tears threaten to well in your eyes, but you press them back with a shake of your head. “I missed you Bec’s” Rebecca laughs softly pulling you back in, “missed you more, now come mothers been asking for you, she’s quite upset that you’ve been so absent from her family dinners lately, she was worried something was wrong I told her you were just busy building an empire.” 

“You’re not wrong.” You murmur dread sinking in your stomach at the mention of family dinners, it was true your presence had become less and less and more recently with the upcoming prep of your sister’s wedding, you just didn’t have any more of you to give. You needed time to tuck tail, lick your wounds and heal, to get over the hurt that night caused you but with your sister needing you by her side at every turn with the wedding you did what you knew best; threw yourself into work, closing deals for your father, going into interrogations when needed, and keeping track of the money and cargo, you ran a tight ship.  Helping your sister plan what should have been your big day while you had never voiced it hurt, and then to put yourself through a family dinner where everyone cooed over the happy couple it had become all too much, you needed the space, the distraction. 

You and Rebecca close the distance between her mother and your father, Winnies arms opening for you almost instantly, “Oh ma,” you murmur closing the last bit of space between the two of you, your arms curling around her. “My sweet girl,” she breathes pressing a kiss to your head, “I’ve missed you; your father tells me he’s been working you to the bone so much so that you’ve been missing family dinners.” 

Your eyes meet your dad’s, he throws you a wink, “my girl’s going to be a force to be reckoned with.” 

You feel the rumble of her laughter as she pulls away her eyes assessing you, “I have no doubt, y/n has always been a strong one haven’t you.” 

You manage to pull a smile on, soft nod of your head, “I have some pretty powerful shoes to fill.” 

Winnie’s hand comes to rest on your cheek rubbing the skin there softly, “and you will, now come, let’s go talk family business.” 

Winnifred leads the four of you through her lavish home, directing you through to her home office as she shuts the door behind your group. You all take your respective seats, eyes on Winnie as she settles, “I do want to apologize for James's absence but he is out with Wilson and Rogers closing a deal, he should be returning in a day or two just in time for the wedding.” 

“Does he know?” Is the first thing that can think to spill out of your lips. 

“Yes my dear he does, and he wants you to know that he apologizes profusely for his absence, you deserved more than that, and I couldn’t agree more.” 

You want to ask if he’s upset, if he’s even remotely happy about this predicament your sister his now ex-fiancé has put you all in, but you’re not sure you want to know the answer to that. 

“As you’re aware y/n this marriage is important to both families, and I can understand how hard this may be for you, it was sudden – for all of us, but I do want to thank you for stepping up and taking this on with grace, there’s no one else I would choose to stand at my son’s side.” 

But you did you think, you chose my sister. 

“Of course Ma I know how important this merger is for not only us, but for the people we have vowed to protect, I would take on the roll no questions asked and while I understand this may not have been what was planned, what we prepared for, I promise to make you all proud.” 

Winnifred leans forward her hands reaching for yours, giving you a quick squeeze before she’s releasing you, “I know you will sweetheart,” she says as she stands making her way around the desk Rebecca following her lead, “and rest-assured your father and I will redraw up the contract this afternoon when -” 

“She’s here now, you can draw it up now.” 

Your head turns at the sound of his voice, he stands at the open doorway, his eyes already on yours. His smile racks up your heartrate, “sorry I'm late everyone” he says closing the distance between the two of you. In that moment you feel like it's just you and him standing in his mother's office, his hand landing on your hip, body pressing in close as his lips find your cheek. Your thought is to return the sentiment but you’ve forgotten how to breathe, and by the time your mind can catch up he’s going around the group greeting them. 

When he comes back to you all you can manage is, “you’re here.” 

He chuckles softly hand going around your waist, “I am y/n, I’m here, and I'm sorry it took me so long.” 

The Arrangement Taglist:

@learisa @greatenthusiasttidalwave @barnesxstan @calwitch @h0nestly-though @wintrsoldrluvr