#i have some stories for kinktober though one if which will be a fun and exciting surprise maybe

[quicktimeeventfull]

everyone i have been fighting for my life recently but the exciting news is i have been winning. please forgive my terrible communication but look forward to the Kyo Comeback Era, which will look exactly the same to you online but will be very dope and cool afk.

[megwritesriddles]

Call Me (Anytime!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 17 - Sexting/Phone sex. Reader and Mike only ever text about work but they both want to change that. Once they do, things escalate very fast and Mike can only hope to keep his head.

Tags: Sexting, Phone sex, Masturbation (f and m), Dirty talk, Flirting, Coworkers, Friends to lovers, Developing relationship, Not canon complaint (no evil animatronics).

Word count: 2.6k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Your texts are purple, Mike's are blue!! Yes, I switched this around with my Spencer fic because I needed more time on it, sorry!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 HERE !!

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You had his number purely for work reasons. To let each other know when you were running late or calling off sick. A mutual agreement, to make sure neither of you came to work one day and had two people’s jobs sprung on you unannounced. A show of worker solidarity. Texts were few and far between, especially because you saw each other almost daily, but mostly because there wasn’t much to talk about. 

“Hey, problems with Abby’s sitter, running ten mins late. Cover for me,”

“Off sick today with the flu! Hope you didn’t get it from me yesterday! Cya!”

“I got the flu from you. Now it’s my turn to take a few days off. Thanks,”

“Did you see they are changing our insurance provider?” 

“Cheapskates,”

“Tell me about it!”

The conversation was never about anything but work, occasionally you heard a little about his sister Abby, but only if it was in some way related to him needing to miss work. You liked Mike a lot, you had fun working with him. Although your job was to watch the monitors in the office and his to patrol the building, you saw a lot of one another. He stopped by the security office much more than was strictly necessary, but no one was there to chase you up about it. As long as he could still respond to a threat (not that any ever came), you were fine. He was not very talkative, but would still hang around in the doorway of the office, expecting you to speak to him. So you did, and he listened well, whatever it was you landed on. Sometimes you liked to gossip with him since you had no mutual friends and he couldn’t spread the word. He pretended not to care about the drama you provided him with, but would always subtly try to enquire more about it. He didn’t have much going on in his own life. Or rather, he had a whole lot going on, which meant he had time for nothing else. Working nights and taking care of Abby took up all his time, and he’d always been a bit of an introvert, so socialising had fallen to the wayside for several years now. Living vicariously through the stories of your friends' love lives was fun for him, as much as he loathed to admit it. He was grateful for you, that you were kind and willing to talk to him while on shift, even if he was a bad conversationalist. He considered you a friend, perhaps his best one, even though he knew he was far from the same thing to you. He was your coworker, considered a friend if he was very lucky. Unbeknownst to him, you did truly consider him a friend, even if you weren’t quite in the desperate position he was. 

Every time you picked up your phone, you debated texting him about something not work-related. You talked about plenty more than just work at work, so why did this seem like such an impossible boundary to cross? You’d always thought he was cute, from the moment you’d started working together and from all the information you’d gleaned from him over time at work, you knew he was a lonely guy. You were sure he would want your friendship and maybe even more than that, but the transition seemed impossible somehow. You wanted him to feel less lonely, whether through friendship or more. So one day, after he texts you something innocuous about getting to work late next week due to Abby’s school play (you found his dedication to his sister very sweet and were always happy to cover for him so he wouldn’t miss important things like this), you bite the bullet. You start small.

“Cute! What’s the play?”

“Robin Hood. Abby’s shy so she only made the sets, but still wants me to come see,”

You’re happy he doesn’t immediately shut you down, but you’re aware he might simply be being polite, or happy to talk about his sister like he always is. You think for a moment then text back, even though you’re sure he assumes the conversation is over now. 

“I suppose I’ll have to miss this one :( Hold me a ticket for the next one!”

You immediately wonder if you’ve gone too far, trying to insert yourself into his life, into his future like this. No, you tell yourself, you’re overthinking, he’ll just interpret you as being polite but not serious. It would be fine. It’s a while until he texts back, so long that you assume he isn’t going to and continue about your day. 

“Sure thing. What are you up to atm?” 

Mike’s heart pounds as he sends the message. He’s not used to carrying a conversation forward like this, but he’s also not used to you talking to him about more than work, he has to take this chance. The fear of rejection consumes him for the next few minutes as he waits. He knows it’s barely anything, that there were a hundred riskier options for what he could have texted you, but he’s still anxious.

“Folding laundry! You?”

Mike immediately wonders what sorts of clothes you might have. You dress very plain for the security job, jeans and hoodies, the occasional t-shirt when it’s a little warmer, but he’s always felt your body looks too good to be dressed like that. You must show it off at least a little, and god, he’d love to see it. He’s occasionally caught sight of lace at your hips when you’ve bent over at work. He imagines you touching those panties while you text him and hates that the thought excites him. He really ought to get out more. 

“Watching TV.”

He responds and realises he’s been a little too short with his answer. He racks his brain for something more to say.

“Girl on my show looks like you.” 

He adds, although it’s not even true. He has the news on, but he wanted an excuse to say something more, without having to comment on the miserable contents of the news.

“Is she cute? ;)”

You text back, unsure what possessed you to be flirty, you hope to God you can play it off if he reacts poorly, like you’re just messing with him and stroking your own ego. You’d sent it without thinking, the reply popping into your mind and onto your screen in mere seconds. Mike is just as shocked. You can’t really be flirting, can you? He hasn’t flirted in years and was never good at it to begin with. He really doesn’t want to mess this up with you, not only because you work together, but because he genuinely really likes you and he’s hopeful that now things have settled down a bit with Abby, he could maybe try and find some romance. Abby needed a feminine presence in her life, especially as she got older, and, selfishly, Mike wanted to be loved, someone to hold on cold nights. He also really really wanted to get laid. He was only a man, and as much as other concerns had dominated his mind for a long time, you had brought back long-dormant urges. This is the thought that drives him forward as he sends his next text.

“She’s cute. But, she hardly compares to you,” 

It’s another big risk, but he wants you so badly that he’s willing to take it. He’s not thinking with his head anymore. 

“How so?”

You retort, your heart fluttering a little at his compliment. But you want to be sure of how he feels, you don’t want him to beat around the bush. You need to know that he wants you.

“You’re too beautiful for anyone to compare,”

He responds earnestly. This is it, he’s been transparent, this would be incredibly hard to play off as a joke. If it was a joke it would be a cruel one, so his plausible deniability is gone, his cards are on the table. He waits with bated breath. You take a long time to respond, unsure what to say. Your instinct is to thank him, but it might end the conversation there, you need this to keep going. 

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course you are, no need to be modest. You could model,”

“Haha! No, I couldn’t model, certainly not runway, but thank you anyway :)” 

“Maybe a magazine? Star in a film at least?”

“I could star in your fantasies ;)” 

The text takes both of you off-guard, even though you’re the one who wrote it. You had been texting so fast back and forth that you once again hadn’t thought before sending. You nearly send a message back, taking back your words and apologising, but your confidence has inspired Mike’s as well and he shoots back a text while you’re formulating an apology.

“You already do,”

Mike feels hot all over when he sends the text, having to shed his hoodie before he starts properly sweating. As out of his depth as he feels, he’s positive by now that you’re flirting and he can’t lose this chance. He needs you, he needs you to want him too, and he’s finally allowing himself to believe that perhaps you do. 

“How often?”

“Every night,”

He can’t understand why he’s being so brazen, he could have easily scared you off by now, but you’re still texting him. He’s not thinking with his head anymore. His words make you excited, to know he thinks of you in this way, and every night is thrilling and arousing. You figure based on his last confession, that you can throw caution to the wind. You want him, he wants you, that much should be clear by now to the both of you. 

“Me too! I imagine you fucking me over the security desk,”

Oh my god. Mike’s hands shake violently as he reads the text, he can’t help but let out a strangled moan, incredibly glad he’s alone right now. Has he died and gone to heaven? Are you playing a cruel prank on him? No, you’ve always been too kind and this is a long way to go for a prank. You must want him like you say, the thought makes his head spin and his pants tighten even more. For the first time ever, he can’t wait to go to work. 

“Yeah? I think of that too,”

“Shall we? ;)”

“God, yes. I don’t even care if I get fired for it,”

“I won’t tell if you don’t!”

“My lips are sealed,”

God, he wants you so bad. He wishes he could come visit you and stop this agonising waiting game that’s begun, but his car is in the shop and the public transport nearby is virtually non-existent. This has all escalated so quickly, he had only hoped a few minutes ago for a brief non-work related chat, and now you were making plans with him for him to fuck you. He had to be in heaven, there was no other explanation. He was not going to get a single minute of work done next shift, or perhaps ever again. That poor desk doesn’t know what’s coming for it if he can have it his way. He prays you’re willing because he has about a million things he’d like to try with you.

His phone rings and he tenses. He doesn’t know whether to relax or tense further when he realises it’s you calling, but he quickly picks up anyway. As soon as he hears your voice, lower and sultrier than usual, he can’t help but buck his hips into the air slightly. 

“Hey Mike,” you whisper seductively. You’re lying back against your pillows, trembling with nerves and excitement.

“Hey… uh… beautiful…” he tries his best to be suave. You giggle softly, but not mockingly at his awkwardness.

“Thinking of me?

“Fuck, you can’t even imagine,” he groans. 

“Touching yourself?” 

“No, but�� good idea… you don’t mind?” he exhales, although he’s already palming himself through his boxers, his jeans having been unzipped sometime a little while ago. He’s lost control of himself. You’re softly running your hand up and down your stomach, warming yourself up, eager to hear more. 

“If I was there, I’d do it for you,” you purr, enjoying the choked breath you hear on the other end of the line. He grips himself through the fabric, starting to stroke gently. 

“How long have you wanted me like this?” he groans into the receiver, embarrassed knowing he isn’t going to last long, the high of being wanted like this, by you of all people, really getting to him.

“Since we met,” you reply, your voice a little breathy. He can guess why and the thought makes him whimper.

“When I get my hands on you I am gonna worship you,” he promises, his voice low and hoarse, his hand now inside his boxers. “I don’t deserve your attention but God, if I have it, I’ll make sure I don’t lose it, I’ll please you all day and night,” he pants harshly between words and he can hear soft moans from your end that only spur him on. “I want to make you happy,” he groans. He means it in many ways, but right now, you hope you only interpret it as lust, he won’t let his stupid heart ruin this for him right now.

“I wanna make you happy too,” you whimper. The words hit him hard, his eyes squeezing shut and his whole body erupting in pleasure. He throws his head back against the couch, groaning loudly, hearing your moans pick up as a result is unendingly thrilling. He spills all over his hand, thick ropes of his need for you. He gasps for breath and listens intently as you fall apart on the other end. Your moans are like sweet music, and somehow you have his cock swelling again already. He wills it away as you come down from your high, gasping for breath, not wanting to push you too far. He needs this to not be a one-time thing, he needs you in person. In his mind, he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead, telling you how happy you’ve made him.

“I wish you were here,” he says instead, figuring it’s a little safer. You laugh a little, but it seems more like a laugh of surprise than anything.

“Still? Even though you finished already?” you tease.

“Of course, I… I could never just be done with you like that,” he insists softly, hoping you feel similarly. It seems, now more than ever, that he’s craving love and connection and now he knows that it has to be with you in order to fill what’s missing in his life. You are perfect. He knew it before but he knows it completely now. You are everything. “I care… you know? This wasn’t just a horny thing for me,”

“You seemed pretty horny,”

“You know what I mean!” he protests and you giggle. He laughs too, though he’s still anxious about how you felt about his confession. 

“I care too, Mike,” you admit with a soft sigh, rolling onto your side. “I also want you here… Would you spoon me?”

“Of course, I would, gladly,” he promises, inwardly ecstatic that you want his affection. He wants to keep you warm and safe, tucked up against his chest, safe from harm. He imagines kissing your neck and he hears you sigh happily, he wonders if you share his fantasy. “I can’t wait to see you again. I’m so… grateful for all this… that you like me like this,” he hums, slowly tucking himself away and zipping up. He makes a mental note to buy you flowers for when he next sees you, hopefully, accompanied by the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend.

“I’ll see you at work,” you smile, blowing a kiss into the receiver.

“Yeah, see you at work,”

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xoxoxo

[chanswhxre]

Killer Entrance [Kinktober ‘24]

✩ kinktober masterlist ✩ requests ✩ kofi ✩ ao3

♡ Pairing : leek know x afab! reader x han jisung

♡ Genre : smut, double penetration

♡ Word count : 2.2k words

♡ Warnings : 18+ nsfw, explicit sexual content, vampires, mentions of blood. I will not put any more specific warnings to avoid spoiling the story. Read at your own risk!

❗️ minors, ageless, and blank blogs that will interact with me or my work will be BLOCKED.

The loud music of the club rang in your ears as you took the seventh or fifteenth shot for the night—you didn't know anymore. You were out partying with your friends, celebrating your new job at the firm you were dreaming of, and you were looking to get trashed tonight.

"Okay, seriously, we need to dance!" Your friend tried to pull you to the dance floor, but you declined. You didn't feel like dancing because that would only worsen your drunkenness; the lights of the club were enough to make you a little light-headed. As the others went to dance, you were left with one friend and his girlfriend, but they didn't seem to mind the atmosphere making out like that, though they totally needed to get a room. You rolled your eyes and went to the bar to get some water. You sat on the bar stool and ordered when two gorgeous men entered the club.

"It's easy to make a killer entrance when you come as a matching set."

Clad in designer clothes, skin as flawless as silk, hair as black as a raven's wing, you swore you saw a hint of red in their eyes when the lights briefly flashed at them. They definitely caught your eye, and little did you know they were marking tonight's prey.

Your water arrived, and when you took a sip, it was like as fast as the wind blew that the two gorgeous men sat on both your sides. You suddenly feel a bit cold, even with all the alcohol coursing through your veins, goosebumps all over your body.

"Hello there, pretty angel." One talked.

You met with his eyes, and there it was again, the glint of red. Was it the lights, or were you that drunk already?

"My name is Minho."

"I'm Jisung."

They suddenly introduced themselves. As much as you found them sexy and drop-dead gorgeous, you were not interested in making new friends or a one night stand tonight. However, a tiny whisper was in your mind to give them a chance. It's not every day two sexy men throw themselves at you, but even though they were already looking thirsty for you, you decided to play a little hard to get.

"And I wasn't asking for your names." You said and continued drinking your water.

"Oh? I like this one, hyung." Jisung smiled as if he had found a reason to live again.

Minho and Jisung lived for the hunt since the 1800s. They didn't like it when one gives in willingly to them but considering their looks, their fortune, anyone would be willingly throwing themselves at them even if it meant death. Compulsion was not a choice either because it would simply take the fun out of it.

"My friends are looking for me, I'll be off." You said attempting to stand when Minho holds your wrist. You flinched at his stone cold touch.

"Please, stay." He insisted. "We promise you're going to have the time of your life."

You shook off his hand and returned to your friends, leaving Minho and Jisung in awe. You drank, danced, and sang your heart out. On the dance floor, they can't seem to keep their hands or eyes from you. Even when you stray further and further away, they always find their way to you. Both of them enjoy the night chasing you around from club to club. It's weird but you're having so much fun making them drool like starved pups until you decided to give them your attention at the last club stop.

You didn't realize but you were already chatting away with the two of them, they weren't bad company in all honesty. Your friends asked for you but you let them go home leaving you with the two complete strangers you just met.

As far as they told you, Minho and Jisung were best friends. They started a business together, which grew into a vast chain of bars and hotels nationwide and a few on other continents. It somehow made you wonder that the companies they mentioned were there even before you were born, and they looked like your age, though they had proof it was theirs. They didn't just look rich, they are wealthy, high society men but what are they doing talking to a commoner like you? What did you do to them to catch their attention? They had their answers.

Minho was bored and Jisung wanted to go party, hence, they went to their usual bar to get drunk, probably fuck and get a little snack before going home. As vampires, they would usually consume more than the normal limits for a human to get wasted, and they would just sleep it off. When they entered the club they smelled something different, no one else smelled so good to them not even since their birth as vampires. No one was as sexy, as mouth-watering as you are. They weren't just attracted to you as a human blood bag; they wanted you in more ways than that, so the hunt began and ended with you. Someone who they never knew they were craving for.

"What's it like living in the upper east side?" You asked. This conversation wasn't going anywhere dirty. They were taking their time to get to know you and to earn your complete trust.

"It's not bad. The neighborhood's very welcoming." Jisung answered,

"Are you looking for a new home, darling?" Minho asked as he again placed his icy hands on your exposed knee. "Yeah, but probably not the Upper East Side. Never in a million years could I afford that kind of living." You said,

"Come live with us, then." Minho gave you a mischievous smile.

"You're crazy." You chuckled as you downed the cocktail that they bought you.

"What if we're serious?" Jisung placed his hand gently on yours.

"Why would you want that?" You asked.

Any normal person who would be hearing this would think they're insane, and let alone you should deem it suspicious, considering you're a woman invited to live with two men. In this cruel world, you shouldn't just trust anyone, though they seem so lovely, and your gut feeling tells you to trust these men you just met. Your sober self would probably think twice, but you were running on alcohol right now, and your mind just said fuck it, fuck them.

The night takes you back to their beautiful penthouse, shoes hastily discarded as Jisung ravaged your lips. They were awfully strong, and Jisung carried you effortlessly. Not a minute went by, and the three of you found yourselves on their soft, king-sized bed. While Minho left chaste kisses on your neck, you were kissing Jisung feverishly as if there was no tomorrow.

The smell of you was enough to drive them crazy. Jisung had difficulty controlling himself not to bite you, but Minho was there to control him. Back in the limo, it already occurred to you what they were: pale skin, cold touch, red glints in their eyes. There was no denying it: vampires.

Were you scared? Yes, who wouldn't be? But did it change your mind about sleeping with them? Of course not! There was something safe about them, even known in books for their dangerous reputation.

"Just a taste, baby, please," Jisung growled as he kissed your neck.

"Would you let him have a taste, baby?" Minho whispered in your ear. "He has been a good boy tonight."

"Go on, baby, bite me." You urged Jisung, and with that,  his fangs grew, and he sank his teeth deliciously on your nape and took a good sip. You felt different; it hurt, but it felt like you were in a sudden daze.

Minho kissed you, his tongue swirled in sync with yours as Jisung withdrew his fangs from your neck then kissed it, a little blood dripping on his chin.

"So good." Jisung moaned.

"Let me have a taste," Minho said as he pulled Jisung in for a kiss then licked his chin, tasting your sweet blood he had been craving all night. You were in awe at the sexy sight in front of you, and you could feel your wetness pooling in your panties.

"Fuck, that was hot."

"You like it when pretty boys kiss, darling?" Minho smirked.

"I didn't know I did." You bit your lip.

Jisung and Minho removed their tops, and they quickly removed your dress as well. As Jisung was kissing you, Minho trailed his kisses from your nape down to your back and pulled your panties down, kissing your bare ass. You winced at the ice cold touch, their breaths however were hot that you couldn't explain it.

You palmed Jisung's already hard cock straining in his boxers while he caressed your breasts. You reached in to stroke him, in which he let out a small moan between your kisses. He laid you down on the bed and continued leaving kisses on you, and then you felt Minho spread your legs open. You gasped as you felt him kiss your inner thighs, working his way to your throbbing core. He gave your clit a quick kiss before licking a stripe on it. Skillful sucks and licks urged you closer and closer to your first orgasm while you suck on Jisung's cock.

"Fuck, baby. That's so good." Jisung coos.

"Be a good girl and cum for us, darling," Minho commanded as he worked wonders with his tongue, suckling on your clit just as you liked it, and it didn't take long for you to cum deliciously in Minho's mouth, your moans vibrated through Jisung's cock which made him cum shortly.

"Oh shit!" He cursed as he shot his load down your throat, and you swallowed everything. Minho climbs up to you and kisses you, it tasted a mix of Jisung and you.

Jisung laid down on the bed and his dick was hard again as if he didn't just cum a few seconds ago.

"Sit on my face, sweet darling, I beg you. I want to taste that pretty little cunt too." Jisung said.

You straddled Jisung's face while Minho removed his remaining clothing. He came back to kiss your lips, neck, shoulders to your wrist. His sharp fangs came out, and he bit your wrist.

"Ah! Shit, that hurts." You winced. You caressed Minho's head as he sucked your blood. "That's a good boy, drink up, get high on me."

You saw his huge, leaking cock twitch when you called him your good boy. He may be a dom, but he sure liked getting praises.

"You're good for a man's ego." Minho admittedly said before returning to kiss you. The kiss tasted like iron, but you didn't care as Jisung ate your sopping wet cunt to orgasm again, making you squeeze the air out of him, and he loved it.

"Are you ready for us, darling?" Minho whispered in your ear. He held your hand as you adjusted yourself, now hovering over Jisung's wet, hard cock. You slowly sank on it, feeling full as you took him in perfectly. Both you and Jisung let out a moan of satisfaction once he was perfectly in.

"Shit. She's so tight, hyung." Jisung moaned and started bucking his hips up.

You gestured for Minho to come closer before you spit on your hand, and you stroked Minho's cock. His shape was girthy and long, while Jisung's was slender, but both were perfect for you.

Minho then went behind you and lubed himself up, stroking himself while he watched Jisung fuck you.

"More, please. Faster, Ji.." you moaned in pleasure. "Want—your—cock too, Min." You looked at Minho from behind.

"What a naughty little girl wanting us both at the same time." Minho scoffed.

He reached for the lube and started to stretch your other hole. You bent over and kissed Jisung as Minho fingered your ass before you felt him inch himself inside you. The stretch was a little painful, but Jisung kissed your tears away.

Minho sighed when he bottomed out, and eventually, they both found a rhythm to fuck you deliciously, and you were seconds away from your third orgasm.

"Such a sweet little thing but so naughty, isn't she, hyung?" Jisung stared at you maniacally, eyes dark with lust, the same as Minho's.

"And so pretty, too. She takes us both so well." Minho said, and that made you clench around their dicks, forcing a moan out of them.

"Fuck! I'm going to cum again." You cried as you felt your climax build up.

"Go on, darling. Cum on our dicks, yeah." Jisung urged you, and as they thrust, you came undone, shaking between them, your contractions milking their cocks to cum as well. Once all of you were able to ride your highs out, Minho took his cock out then, followed by Jisung, leaving you still feeling full from their cum all leaking from your two holes. You fell limp on the bed and snuggled beside Jisung, catching your breath from the amazing sex you just had with these two gorgeous men.

Minho got up and got the towel, wiping you quickly before running the warm shower. Then Jisung carried you to the bathroom. The shower was huge, and the three of you fit perfectly. The both of them washed you, and then they dressed you up. The bed sheets were already clean, and you lay between them.

They both looked at you lovingly, even after the nasty things you did.

"I hope you'll reconsider living with us." Jisung spoke, and you hummed.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, Ji." Minho said as he kissed both of you good night.

✩ reblogs, feedback, & comments are highly appreciated. it motivates me, and it is the lifeline of my blog. To everyone who read and interacted with my works, such as comment, and reblog especially with text, thank you so much 정말 감사합니다 ♡

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- love, jan ♡

© 2024 Chanswhxre

[therealcocoshady]

So I was thinking if you’re taking requests maybe a Em x reader where she’s plus size, they’ve been friends for a while and someone makes a comment making fun of her weight or how Em would never be with someone like her & reader overhears Em’s confession/response? In need for a happy ending type of fic.

Kinktober - Day 20 - Size Difference

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : thank you for your request ! I think it fights right with the Kinktober Day 20 prompt, which is « Size Difference ». I hope you enjoy it 💕.

CW : Size difference - Plus sized reader - Fluff

The dining room was warm and buzzing with laughter and chatter as the evening settled into its comfortable rhythm. Marshall sat beside you, leaning back with that familiar, laid-back posture, fingers idly tapping the edge of his glass as he listened to some story being told across the table. You felt a flicker of contentment just sitting beside him, enjoying the moment. You loved a good dinner party : great food and good company. It was even better when Marshall was around : his humor and playful remarks were always the cherry on the cake. The two of you had been friends for years, your bond built on banter and that magnetic, unspoken understanding. There was a spark, sure, but you had always kind of danced around it, knowing it was always there, like a half-breath between you. It was playful and fun but, at the end of the day, he was him and you were, well, you. And even though you sometimes thought of how great it might be if the friendship turned into something more, you were simply grateful to be in his presence.

At one point during the dinner, you excused yourself to step outside, needing a breath of fresh air and maybe just a moment alone. As you headed for the balcony, you didn’t realize that your absence would become the focal point of a conversation you’d never intended to overhear. Marshall was taking a sip of his drink when he heard one of his friends, that you had not crossed paths with too often, chuckle, glancing toward the door you had just passed through.

“So, uh, what’s the deal between you and Y/N?” the guy asked, with that tone that conveyed his thought on your friendship, probably deeming unlikely. After all, most people wouldn’t expect one of the most successful rappers to be such good friends with a female, much less one that did not look like a Victoria’s Secret model. Marshall’s brow furrowed at the question. “We’ve been friends for a while. Why?” The guy shrugged, giving a half-smile. “Nothing, man. I’m just surprised. Thought you’d go for, you know…” He motioned vaguely with his hand. “Someone more your…size.”

Marshall’s eyes narrowed, but the guy kept going, oblivious. “Look, she's nice, sure, but I mean— she might get the wrong idea and think there’s something there. And, well, she’s not exactly…. In your league, you know what I’m saying?” A heaviness dropped in your chest. You didn’t mean to overhear a conversation you were obviously not privy to. You could feel your eyes starting to burn. How humiliating. You’d left your seat for a minute and people were making fun of you. Right when you thought you were having a great time. You stayed on the balcony, looking away, pretending not to hear anything, hoping the conversation would end soon, so that you could go back to your seat and pretend that nothing happened. You didn’t see Marshall glance toward the balcony door. “Yeah,” Marshall said, his tone cold, “you’re right.”

You could feel your heart drop. Of course you knew that Marshall was out of your league. Anyone could see that. And you knew he knew it too. But to hear him acknowledge it, as simple as that, it still hurt. You would have hoped he’d at least defend you and say what a great friend you were. You could feel a lump form in your throat, before he continued. “She’s way out of my league.” Marshall’s voice softened as he glanced back toward the balcony door. “She’s the kind of woman who’s smart and hilarious, who’s real and doesn’t fake a damn thing. She’s gorgeous and incredible and—well, you wouldn’t get it. Someone like her?” He paused, letting the words sink in. “She’d never go for someone like me.”

The guy stammered, clearly at a loss for words. “But I mean, what is it that you actually see in her?” Marshall shook his head, a glint of disbelief in his eyes as he looked his friend square in the face. “What do I see in her?” He gave a small laugh. “Everything. I mean, have you seen her?”

You thought you were about to cry from the humiliation, but then you heard Marshall’s voice, steady and honest, filling in every corner of doubt she’d ever had. By the time he finished, your cheeks felt hot. There was a moment of silence and you decided to come back. You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, and approached the table, quietly slipping back into your seat beside him. Marshall glanced over, flashing her that signature, knowing smile, like you were his favorite person to see across the room. The conversation switched to another topic, moving on to some workplace gossip.

Without a word, you reached under the table and found his hand. His fingers stilled for a beat, then curled around yours, his thumb tracing a gentle pattern on your skin, like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had. He looked over, and your eyes met, a silent understanding passing between you, deeper than words. “Out of your league, huh?” You whispered, your voice a mixture of teasing and something softer, more serious. He squeezed your hand gently, his demeanor oddly calm though you could see a flicker of anticipation in his eyes. “Way, way out of my league,” he murmured, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face.

You both focused on the table conversation, but neither of you could actually keep your attention from straying to the connection between your hands, fingers gently toying and tracing each other. Every once in a while, Marshall’s thumb would brush across your knuckles, a delicate and unhurried stroke that sent little shivers up your arm. You bit your lip, suppressing a smile, feeling your cheeks warm under the subtle, unspoken affection radiating from him. At one point, he leaned back casually, still holding your hand beneath the table, and threw in one of his usual sarcastic comments at something one of your friends said. But as he spoke, he lightly drew circles against your palm, his fingers grazing yours with a mix of playfulness and tenderness. It felt like a secret only the two of you shared, a silent language spoken in touch instead of words. You risked a glance at him, your eyes catching his for the briefest moment. He was mid-sentence, but when he saw you look, he shot you a crooked smile, raising one eyebrow in that mischievous way of his. He gave your hand another gentle squeeze, like he was saying, ‘I’ve got you.’

Your friends seemed oblivious, absorbed in their own conversations, while you and Marshall seemed to exist in your own bubble, a world of hidden smiles and quiet gestures. With each minute that passed, your confidence in this unspoken connection grew, and your touches became bolder. His hand slipped down to your wrist, feeling the steady rhythm of your pulse, while you traced your fingertips along the callouses on his, each touch a little thrill that left you wanting more. By dessert, you were leaning in just a little closer, your shoulder brushing his as you exchanged quick, playful whispers and comments about the evening’s conversations. The closeness of him, the warmth of his hand in yours, all made your heart pound in a way that was intoxicating.

Finally, as the evening wound down, people beginning to gather coats and say goodbyes, Marshall gave your hand one last squeeze, holding your gaze in a look that spoke volumes. As you stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut, the quiet tension that had been building all night seemed to close in around you. The moment you were alone, it was as though the air became charged, the silence between the two of you suddenly thick with every unspoken word and lingering look you’d shared at the dinner table.

You leaned back against the wall of the elevator, your breath catching as Marshall took a step closer. His gaze roamed over you, clearly taking in the way your dress hugged your curves, accentuating every line, every dip. He looked at you like he couldn’t tear his eyes away if he tried, and your pulse quickened, your body responding to the heat in his stare. He raised a hand, his fingers brushing along your cheek, trailing down to your jaw, gentle but deliberate. His voice was a low, warm rumble, barely above a whisper. “You’re so damn gorgeous, you know that?” You felt your cheeks flush, your lips parting, but before you could say anything, his mouth was on your, soft but insistent. The kiss was slow at first, like he was savoring every second, his hand slipping around to the back of your neck, holding you close as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you pulled him closer, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of his mouth against yours, the warmth of his body pressing into you. She could taste the faint hint of Diet Coke on his lips, feel the steady beat of his heart against your fingertips, and it made your head spin. Marshall’s hands slid down, resting on your hips, pulling you against him, his touch possessive yet tender. His lips moved to your jaw, then to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made you melt against him, your breath coming quicker with each soft, lingering touch. “You have no idea…” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. “No idea how beautiful you are.”

His hand traced down your side, following the curve of your waist, fingers exploring every dip and line as though committing you to memory. You arched into him, your own hands roaming up to his shoulders, feeling the strength in him, the tension just beneath the surface. When he looked at you again, his eyes were filled with an intensity that made your knees weak. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing your cheek as he leaned in once more, capturing your mouth in another kiss that was deeper, needier. The world outside the elevator ceased to exist; there was only the warmth of his touch, the soft hum of the elevator, and the way he made you feel, like you were the only woman in the world.

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[mists-dark-zone]

Hi!

So.. i read you kinktober stuff and boi.. my mind is running like..

i have some thoughts, like Creator doing 1, 12, 23 to Zhongli, mainly cuz i have a love and hate relationship with him. That is the result of my friend making me hate him that bad, but that is another story.

Though, back to my thoughts on Zhongli being a sub, like ugh, I love me some sub men that are powerful. Zhongli crying and begging for release due to over stim? Beautiful.

Zhongli released a soft whine and yet he doesn't want to disappoint you, not after he was given this plant to take care of by you. Yet, he is so humiliated to be at the mercy of the pathetic plant, not fully realizing that he was pulled into the trap that was set up by you. There are times where it just teases him after a long night of endless rounds, but he won't return the plant cuz of what the creator said before handing him the plant, "Surely someone as strong as you can handle the plant i made just for you." - Kaeya anon

Kinktober day "3"

I know it's technically day 7,but this took awhile to write T-T. Days 4,5,6,and 7 will be posted soon,as well as day 8.

This request was very fun to write,thank you for it!

Zhongli

1: Humiliation

12: Expositionalism

23: Tentacles

Content warning: ⚠️This work has dubious consent⚠️

If this bothers you I ask that you leave,for your own wellbeing!!

If these things make you uncomfortable DO NOT INTERACT!! I am not liable for it if you do!

There was a knock at your door.

"Your grace?" The voice of your most loyal servant came through. "May I come in?" He said before politely waiting outside. 'He was definitely the perfect one for this job',you thought to yourself before speaking.

"Yes,please come in." Zhongli walked in,head held high. He gave a deep bow,almost going to kneel at your feet until you stopped him. "That will not be necessary today." He peered at you,confused. "Zhongli,I have a task for you." He had perked up at the word task,straighting himself back up.

You move gracefully across the room,mentioning for him to follow. You smiled to yourself as you picked up a plant in a pot. Leaves of deep purple,with...tentacle like stems and leaves. It was a type of vine,you supposed. Gingerly picking up the plant,you turned to Zhongli.

"This plant here is one I made specifically for you,my most loyal follower. I ask that you please take care of it." You held it out to him,and Zhongli nodded. His stoic face betrayed the way he was feeling inside,the bubbling pride and excitement making it's way through his body.

Zhongli bowed deeply. "I am honored to have such a privilege,your grace." You nodded,a similar excitement bubbling inside of you,but for reasons very different than what Zhongli could guess. You carefully placed the pot into his waiting hands. You waved a dissmissal, and he bowed deeply once again,turning to leave. Just as he opened the door,you called out to him,making him turn around.

"It's a special plant Zhongli,so make sure to give it extra special care." You said with a wink before going back to your work. Zhongli briskly left the room,scurrying through your giant palace domain. He had his own place,but decided to go to the room assigned to him as an acolyte instead,saving some time. He quickened his pace,wanting to get there as soon as he possibly could. He couldn't understand why,but he felt he needed the space his room gave for something,although he was unsure why this thought came to mind.

He finally made it to his room. It was a barren yet large place. He had his bed pushed to the left side, which at the foot the door to his in room bathroom was. That door was closed however,so after a minute of looking around,Zhongli placed the plant on his desk,which was the direct opposite of his bed.

He stared at the plant for a moment. It looked...odd,but all the colors were absolutely beautiful in a way Zhongli wouldn't have seen before. He was studying the plant so intently that he hardly noticed that it had moved a bit.

He snapped out of it only when he realized that it would be best if he watered the plant. Fresh water would be best,he thought to himself. So,he walked to the door,ready to walk out. That was,until he was grabbed.

Something hard and thick wrapped around his waist,pulling him up into the air in the middle of the room. He let out a yelp,trying desperately to push the thing off of him. He looked down at it,trying to see what exactly was holding him captive. It looked to be a vine of sorts,and he wondered if he could maybe slash it with his polearm...

...That was,until a sweet smell began secreting from the plant,causing him to go limp and his thoughts to cloud up. He continued to fight,squirming around in a pathetic attempt to escape,but there was no strength behind his actions. It was like all the power he had was drained. Or maybe it was just the fact that thinking about escaping was getting harder..

Something hard pushed its way into his mouth,and he desperately tried to spit it out. It was relentless however,so it simply continued to venture deeper into his mouth. Zhongli gagged when it hit the back of his throat,tears springing up in he eyes. The thing didn't care for his discomfort,and soon the former archon felt a cool,thick,slimy substance slide down his throat.

All too quick,his body felt as if it was in searing heat. Sweat formed on his forehead as he panted. He hardly noticed that his cocks had become fully erect,straining his pants. It came to the forefront ot his mind as it became increasingly uncomfortable. Two thin vines came and pulled off his jacket,letting it fall to a heap on the floor below. They then began work on his suit,finishing much quicker than Zhongli anticipated. It joined his jacket on the floor.

The very second his chest was bare and exposed,more thin vines came,rubbing his stomach with light touches that made him shiver. They trailed up his body,tracing his arolea and flicking over his nipples,causing him to let out a quite embarrassing moan. He was trying hard to escape,but the fire hot pleasure he was feeling was making him so weak...

There was a pressure in his backside,and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as a thick vine pushed into his hole. A wanton moan escaped hid lips. The soft,malleable thorns of the vine tickled his walls on a way that made him gyrate his hips and whine with tears in his eyes. When it hit his prostate,he fell limp as he came hard.

The vines continued even after he came,fucking him hard and fast. He moaned and cried,squirming desperately as he desperately tried to get away from the overstimulation.

Another vine came to touch the head of his sensitive cock,and he yelped as tears once again gathered in his eyes. He couldn't decide whether to buck into it or buck away from it as another splash of white hot pleasure-pain rocketed through him,causing him to orgasm once again.

He squeezed around the vine,just as he felt a thick,warm substance empty from the vine into his hole. He whined as it slipped out,and the other vines let him slump gently to the floor. He watched through blearly,half lidded eyes as the plant returned to normal,as if like magic.

When he awoke,the first he thought to do was get rid of the wretched plant. But the words of his God came back to him. "This plant here is one I made specifically for you,my most loyal follower. I ask that you please take care of it." His God had made it for him specifically. It would be blasphemous to throw it away. So he let it stay. Let it have it's way with him every night.

Little did he know,that that was just what you wanted,as you watched from the shadows every night.

[verbenaa]

silver and silk | kinktober 2024

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F!Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 4.0k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: cunnilingus, choking/erotic asphyxiation, piv sex, safe words/gestures, Dom/sub undertones, the hint of a breeding kink, formal wear, rough sex

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “And we, my dear, have some very urgent business to attend to.” His expression is nothing short of devilish as he practically pushes her inside of the tiny closet and shuts the door behind them both, only waiting a mere moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his lips to her neck.

“Urgent, Astarion?” She rolls her eyes despite the loosening of her limbs underneath the feeling of his lips kissing down over her collarbone, mouthing at the exposed cleavage of her breasts before he lowers himself to the floor in front of her.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

In which Astarion finds it in his heart to help Rin work off some of her frustrations in a variety of ways. 

𝒶/𝓃: hellooooo! this is my first piece for this year's kinktober! I'm only writing a few of these due to limited time unfortunately, but this is the first one up. I'm not really working from any real prompt list or anything, and instead I just played around with a few ideas that I felt like fit with the reason of the season 🤭

This fic features my tav Rin, a half-elf bard, who I write about in my longfic to eden. You don't need to read that in order to enjoy this (but I obviously think you should, duh) because she's a total hottie that doesn't know how to shut up 💖 let me know what you all think in the comments either here or on ao3 and reblogs make me cry with happiness ❤️ enjoyyyy 🎃

read on ao3 | masterlist | to eden link

The scrape of embroidery from Astarion’s doublet against the bared skin of Rin’s shoulders is a small price to pay—a necessary discomfort, so to speak—for a tiny piece of stolen joy on a night like tonight.

Gods, she hated these events. 

When she had saved the world, she hadn’t realized one of the direct results of it would be having to attend things like this—boring galas with drunken patriars, dusty bureaucrats, and simpering ladies who fawned over and gawked at her in equal measure, as though she were some creature meant to be kept behind a wall of glass to be studied for her strangeness or her unerring charm or whatever the hells other attribute it was they wanted to ascribe to her.

And Rin supposes that, to them, perhaps she was strange and charming. 

After all, it was no noble knight or magnificent wizard who had led them to victory. It was simply her—a half-rate bard with a decidedly questionable skillset born from no one in particular, like so many others in the depths of the Lower City.

It had been fun at first, when she thought about the fact that it was not someone from a storied family who had saved them all, but instead someone without a last name who couldn’t even pay her rent every month and survived on cheap tavern wine and bread, not to mention her penchant for cheating at card games.

She had tired of it all after the third or fourth party, of course; niceties from people who would have rather let her die in a ditch than to have been bothered to afford her a single copper as a child falling terribly flat, and by now Rin was downright bored of it.

Even with her dearest’s presence by her side—Astarion’s arm wrapped through her own all evening as they made rounds around the ballroom and danced waltz after waltz, dressed in his finery with its elegant beading and metallic stitching shining in the candlelight—Rin was thoroughly at the end of her rope.

Astarion had dragged her inside of this tiny closet not terribly long ago, sensing the irritation building in her chest that was becoming harder and harder to hide with every sip of wine she drank, exhausted of donning the usual easy and unbothered facade she typically puts forth so gracefully during these sorts of things.

But not even the glittering candlelight, beautiful music, and expensive wine could soothe her simmering agitation, and so he took it upon himself to soothe it for her.

Rin will always remember his completely selfless kindness when she thinks back on it; it must have been terribly hard, after all, for him to have decided to steal away with her into some random closet.

Astarion grabs her hand within his and leads her away from the ballroom without a word, traipsing with her down hallways this way and that before they come across a locked door. Rin’s not entirely sure how he knew about it—or maybe it’s nothing but luck on his part—but within seconds Astarion has a lock pick in hand and the door is opened, the mechanism clearly no match against him.

“And we, my dear, have some very urgent business to attend to.” His expression is nothing short of devilish as he practically pushes her inside of the tiny closet and shuts the door behind them both, only waiting a mere moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his lips to her neck.

“Urgent, Astarion?” She rolls her eyes despite the loosening of her limbs underneath the feeling of his lips kissing down over her collarbone, mouthing at the exposed cleavage of her breasts before he lowers himself to the floor in front of her.

“Yes, terribly urgent.” He’s on his knees now, busy pressing searing kisses to the skin of her lower stomach as his hands find her hips and urge her to turn around. 

Rin needs little direction, spinning to face the shelf behind her without complaint as Astarion’s hands begin to pull the skirt of her dress up. 

“You see, it’s come to my attention that my dear, sweet wife has run out of patience tonight. I’m only doing my job as a wonderful, doting husband to help relieve some stress.”

“How charitable of you,” She says wryly. 

The sight of Astarion on his knees will always be one that begins to kindle that familiar flame of heat deep in her belly; a flame that’s only ignited hotter by the sensation of his fingertips trailing up the inside of her leg.

“Incredibly.” He doesn’t bother to remove her underwear when his hands reach the apex of her thighs, simply pushing the gusset of it to the side with his fingers to make room for his mouth, wasting no time as he buries his tongue inside her core and lets his fingers round on her clit.

Rin comes in what feels like record time on his lips, the sounds of her cries muffled against her palm as she leans against the shelf in front of her, careful not to rattle the silver as her body shakes.

Astarion’s mouth glistens with her spend when he rises from behind her, unbuttoning his pants with a fluid flick of his wrist and freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear before filling her in a single stroke, her body still working through the aftershocks of her orgasm as he hilts himself inside her.

Which is exactly how Rin found herself here, fingers still grasping onto the very same wooden shelf and hoping dearly that no one outside of the small silver closet they stole away into can hear the slight metallic clink of the metal goblets and dishes every time Astarion thrusts into her from behind. 

He has her bent, her ass jutting out towards his hips as the beautiful gown that he had lovingly designed to fit her every curve is pushed up around her waist in a mess of silk and embroidered tulle. The soft edge of the panties she wore—also designed by him and decidedly more fun to be fit for as he had double-checked his measurements—rubbing against every inch of his cock as he moves.

“Don’t you dare mess up my hair, Astarion.” Rin whips a glance behind her to where Astarion stands, one of his hands sneaking up from its place at her hips with fingers trailing towards the back of her neck as it searches to bury itself into her intricate updo, unruly dark blonde curls all twisted together and held with emerald-studded pins. “It took far too long to get it look like that and I will not be redoing it.”

“But sweetheart, I need something to hold onto,” Astarion mockingly whines into her ear as he thrusts particularly hard, hitting the end of her cunt. Rin barely withholds the moan that threatens to rip free from her lips, her fingertips gripping the shelf in front of her tighter.

She rolls her hips into his, trying to take him deeper. “You can hold onto it when you fuck me again later tonight, if you’re so desperate to touch it. In fact, Astarion, I’ll even give you full permission to ruin it.”

“‘Later tonight’?” He hits that same spot again, and this time she doesn’t hold back the soft moan that escapes her lips. “My, you’re simply insatiable, darling, if you’re already thinking about me fucking you again.”

Rin can hear the smirk in his words and doesn’t need to turn around in order to see it but she does anyway, swiveling her head to glance back at the look of pure arrogance decorating his temptingly plush lips.

“If you’re in need for something to hold onto, dear husband, you can just hold right here instead.” Rin guides the hand currently running cool fingertips teasingly up and down the nape of her neck around to the front, settling it along the line of her throat. 

Astarion’s hips slow to a stop as he closes his hand softly around the elegant column of her neck before running his thumb in a soft touch over her skin, keeping his length still buried deep inside her.

“My, what a mood you are in, love.” His voice darkens as he caresses her neck, running his fingers across a set of lovingly made scars that decorate the side of it.

“Make sure I feel it. You can do that, can’t you?” Her hand is still wrapped around the back of his, and she squeezes it slightly to make sure that Astarion fully understands her point.

Thankfully, he’s a quick study and he tightens his grip infinitesimally, dragging her deeper onto his cock with the other hand still grasping at her hip. 

“Oh, I’ll do anything for you.” Astarion leans in as he’s fully seated inside of her, letting his lips wander across her rouged cheek as his thumb presses in on her windpipe, nothing about the touch sweet or delicate. 

It’s perfect.

“Good. Now move,” Rin rasps as she bucks her hips, urging him to give her more as his lips brush along the side of her face—pressing kisses to her temple, the corner of her painted lips, the freckles that dot over her cheeks.

“Is that how you want it then, my sweet? Does my love want it hard?” He has the nerve to practically snicker in her ear as he teases her, the bastard. 

He’s lucky she loves him for it.

“I want it as hard as you can give it.” She grinds herself against his still hips, relishing the soft moan that escapes from his mouth at the movement. “Provided you can, of course.”

“Are you questioning my abilities, darling?”

“I would never dare to do such a thing.”

“A pity, because if you were I’d simply have to show you the full extent of them. I’d have you crying for your release later tonight, my sweet, while I pleasured you senseless in an attempt to show you everything I’m capable of.”

“Please,” She begs for it on a breathy gasp, the picture painted in her mind by those words one she finds incredibly tempting.

Once upon a time, she would have hated the sound of that word escaping her lips, but now she finds she doesn’t quite mind when it slips past her defenses to fall upon Astarion’s elegantly jeweled ears.

“Gods, I love it when you’re like this,” Astarion practically moans into her ear, his cock twitching inside her as he holds her still. “So terribly desperate and needy.”

Rin leans into his the touch of his lips against the soft point of her ear as much as she can with his hand still wrapped around her neck, no longer quite so bothered by the potential of a ruined updo as she sighs, “I learned from the best.”

Finally, Astarion begins to move in long, slow draws of his length against her walls, almost pulling himself out of her each time before pushing himself back in, filling her inch by inch.

“Do remember to tap my hand if it becomes too much. Are we clear, darling?”

Rin grinds against him again, eager for him to finally fucking move. “Like crystal, love.”

She can just barely make out the wolfish grin on his lips in the darkness as his hips find a slow rhythm, rocking into her gently as his hand tightens around her neck again. 

It’s not enough to really hurt—never enough to truly cause her any sort of pain or injury—but it’s just enough so that she can feel the precious air in her lungs become harder to access, making it the tiniest bit harder to breathe.

Astarion was perhaps many things, but he was nothing if not careful in moments like these ones, where they played with the heady combination of pain and pleasure, always perfectly aware of her limits as much as his own.

He drops a kiss onto the shell of her ear before nipping at it, grazing the sharp point of his fangs across the sensitive skin. She whines at the feeling and he’s quick to shush her, the hand on her hip swatting at her behind in a quick spank that has her hips jumping. 

“I’m going to have to shove my handkerchief into that pretty little mouth of yours, darling, if you can’t be quiet. Although, I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Rin winks back at him in response, biting her lip against the light pressure Astarion puts on her neck while she answers every one of his slow thrusts with a roll of her hips.

“You absolute freak.” His pace begins to speed up—no longer that slow, casual slide of his cock inside her, replacing it with increasingly punishing thrusts that has their skin meeting together audibly in the silence of the closet.

Her emerald eyes are gleaming in the darkness as Astarion tightens his grip on her neck on a particularly deep thrust that has another ragged moan breaking free from her lips. “Takes one to know one.”

Astarion drives into her hard and fast, that one hand around her neck squeezing just enough to have more heat surging through her body, driving her higher and higher with every movement of his hips.

She’s at his mercy and she loves every minute of it as he fucks her just as she had wanted, chasing every thought out of her mind that didn’t revolve around him.

“I’m going to fuck you full of my come and you’re going to love every minute of it, aren’t you?” His hips collide roughly with her own as he whispers low into her ear, the words sending a bolt of pleasure straight to her center.

Rin nods as she meets his thrusts, the hand on her neck tight as she manages the thought to speak a single word. “Yes.”

“Say that you want it, darling.” He loosens his grip just slightly so that she can speak easier, a rush of air whooshing into her lungs as she takes it in on a gasped breath. 

She’s barely thinking coherently when she sighs the words he wants to hear, every one of them uttered only fuel for the want burning inside her. “I want it. I want your come, Astarion.”

The hand on her hip curls around her front, fingertips dragging as they explore the skin of her stomach before dipping lower. 

Rin moans when the coolness of his skin meets her clit, Astarion running his fingers over it with a teasing brush before moving them lower to collect some of the wetness from where they are joined together.

“Tell me that you want me to fill your tight, perfect cunt up with it.” 

He returns his fingers up to round on the pearl at the top of her folds, her body shaking around him as the pleasure builds and builds and builds under his care. 

“Please, Astarion. Fill up my cunt with your come, fuck me full of it. Whatever you want, I’ll take it all.” 

She should be embarrassed by the words she’s babbling, but she’s far from feeling ashamed by them as they leave her lips. She’ll gladly take whatever he wants to give her—anything—as long as it’s from him.

“I know you will, my love.” He bestows another kiss against her temple, lips lingering over her skin as his cock brushes against that special place inside her with every thrust as his thumb presses harder into her neck again. “Now, be a good girl and come for me.”

She tightens around him as he circles her clit faster, his length hitting perfectly inside her every time. Astarion’s determined to send her over the edge and draw her orgasm from her with the way he’s fucking her, and she’s more than willing to oblige him.

All it takes is a few more thrusts and she’s lost to the euphoria, careening into her pleasure as she comes, her body tightening around him. It sends a wave of heat through her veins, her body shaking as she cries out at the feeling. 

She barely remembers to move her hand from atop his to cover her mouth, absently thanking all those months they spent fucking in camp years ago where she learned to quiet her cries as she presses her lips into her palm and moans her pleasure into it. 

Her hips writhe, Astarion working her through it with his fingers still turning circles on her clit as his cock hits perfectly inside her, pleasure practically whiting out her mind with the pure feeling of it all.

She’s only just coming back down from her high when she hears Astarion’s moans turning increasingly desperate, his hips rutting into hers in a frenzy. 

“Fuck, Rin,” Astarion swears as he loses his rhythm, thrusts growing faster. “I’m going to come, sweetheart.”

“Gods, please, Astarion. Come inside me,” She moans in response, squeezing herself around him one last time as he sucks in a breath. 

He hilts himself as deep as he can on one last thrust as his orgasm hits, his hand falling from her neck to instead reach out to grasp at one of the shelves in front of them as he spills himself deep inside her warmth.

Astarion buries his face into her neck, the scent of her sweet perfume surrounding him as he lets his moans muffle into her skin as his hips rut into hers.

The satisfaction she feels as he comes inside her is yet another thing she should probably feel some sort of shame about; though she can’t seem to find it in her to care as his hips still press into her own, luxuriating in the warmth that blooms inside her chest instead as she smiles, still stuck in the dreamy haze of the afterglow.

He murmurs stray words of affection against her as he comes down and his hips finally slow—whispering his love in between the kisses he presses to her neck and shoulder as his hand slips away from her center to wrap around her waist instead. 

He’s saying something to her in Elvish that she can barely make out in the midst of her own exhaustion, the feeling of his cool cheek brushing against her overheated skin a balm as he presses another kiss to her shoulder, sending a shiver through her overwrought body.

“I know you’re alive because I can hear your heartbeat, but do speak up so I can know you’re alright, darling.”

Rin manages a dazed chuckle, squeezing his hand where it drapes around her waist. “I can confirm that I am still breathing for the moment, at least. But if I were to have died, that wouldn’t have been a bad way to go.”

“Undoubtedly. But I am very much glad you shall live on for another day.” He presses one last kiss to her neck, right over a set of scars, before rising to his full height behind her.

He pulls his softening cock out of her, his come seconds from dribbling down her legs when he brings his fingers down, swiping at his spend where it threatens to spread onto her folds.

Slowly, Astarion pushes his come back inside her as she moans low, limbs tightening at the feeling of his fingers moving deep.

He brushes a kiss to her cheek as he teasingly curls them once inside her, having the audacity to chuckle at the way her body pulses around him. “Keep it, won’t you?”

“Gods, Astarion,” Rin groans as his fingers retreat and he secures the gusset of her underwear back over her with a little pat before he steps back. “Have I ever told you that you’re really something else, sometimes?”

“Plenty of times. And I never tire of hearing it, my love.” His handkerchief materializes in his hand as he cleans his fingers before tucking himself back into his pants and buttoning himself back up with more grace than she certainly possesses after their little escapade. 

Hells, they were going to have to leave this closet soon and assess the damage done to their carefully made up visages. Rin’s confident her hair survived, if a little more mussed than it was, but the same cannot likely be said for her makeup. 

With any luck none of it will have migrated, at the very least saving her the embarrassment of looking like a fancily dressed circus clown.

Rin rights herself, ignoring the heat already sneaking to her cheeks at the knowledge that when she walks out of here, there will be no mistaking the activities they had just engaged in.

Especially with Astarion’s come now seeping into her panties, the scent of him inescapable as it mingles with her own.

“What do you say to one more glass of free wine and then we sneak out of here without saying goodbye to anyone?” She fluffs the skirt of her dress as Astarion reaches out to fix the neckline, pulled a little too low on her breasts for her own comfort.

“And deprive Florrick and Ravengard of their goodbye from our beautiful and heroic bard?” Astarion says, aghast.

Rin whacks him playfully on the chest, shooting him a smile as she checks the pins in her hair. 

“Ravengard is boring and Florrick is drunk, and if I have to hear either of them wax on about the Flaming Fist one more time tonight I may suffer psychological injury.”

“Alright, darling, you win. One more glass of wine and then we hope to never see these people again.”

They most certainly will have to see these people again, but was the point of being a good liar if you couldn’t even deceive yourself for a single evening?

“Maybe they’ll forget all about us and stop inviting us to these things, if we’re lucky.” Rin runs her hands through his hair, pushing fallen strands back into place before standing up on her tip toes to press a kiss to his lips.

Astarion happily returns it, his lips pulling into a smile as he kisses her back with a contented hum.

His arm loops around her, settling his hand on her lower back as he opens the door and peeks his head outside before ushering them both out of the closet, securing the door with a quiet click before they set back down the hallway.

Rin notices light from a nearby candelabra shining off of something in Astarion’s other hand, the color that of silver illuminated to a burnished gold in the flickering flames.

“Astarion, did you steal something from that closet?” She rolls her eyes before she shoots him a look of reproach for good measure. “You’ve got to stop stealing from people’s houses. It’s bad form.”

Astarion smirks proudly as he brandishes a set of silver spoons, both intricately patterned on the handles and easily worth a small fortune in gold coin.

“But darling, I thought you never wanted to be invited back?” He spins them between his nimble fingers with ease, a blur of metal twirling in the light that her eyes can barely follow the motion of.

She should probably tell him to go put them back. It would be very bad for her to turn a blind eye and continue to allow him to so blatantly commit thievery, wouldn’t it? 

She was a hero, after all. Or at least, that’s what they liked to call her.

But when had Rin ever cared much for laws or rules? It wasn’t like they’d even notice two missing spoons in an entire closet full of silver, honestly. 

Frankly, Astarion could have stolen much more, now that she thinks about it. 

“Fine, steal the spoons, what do I care? While you’re at it, maybe go for a bottle of wine from behind the bar, too?”

“A woman after my own heart,” Astarion sighs dramatically before pocketing his new treasures, swooping down to press a kiss to Rin’s cheek one last time before they enter the ballroom. “Your wish is my command, my sweet.”

Her eyes cut to his as they step into the cavernous room, glittering with mischief of her own as she raises a brow in challenge. 

“Don’t forget to make it an expensive one.”

[buckyshoneybunny]

Birthday Girl

Bucky Barnes + Curvy!Reader 

Summary- It's your birthday and Bucky wants to make it special 

W.C.- 1122 

Warnings- reader has adhd, fluff, metions to smut, 18+ please no minors, cursing. 

A/N- Today is my birthday!!! Sorry I have been inactive; I’ve been busy and sick and just no motivation. I do have a fall fic coming!! I realized a couple of days ago I could have done kinktober but oh well. I have so many ideas and wips but not enough time and motivation. Anyway I do hope you like it and be on the lookout, I’ll try to get more stories out. Until next time my loves! (Thank you for the love!!!)  

Masterlist 

Bucky’s heart fluttered as he watched you sleep, your hair glowing in the early morning sunlight streaming in, though knotted. He brushed some hair behind your ear, peppering your face with kisses and causing you to stir. 

Eyes still closed, you smiled and snuggled further into Bucky’s side, causing him to chuckle softly. 

“Happy birthday, doll,” he whispered into your hair. 

You hum and bury your face in his neck. “Thank you,” you mumble.  

“You’re welcome.”  He rubbed his flesh hand down your thigh, the metal one holding you close. You both laid there in the comfort of your shared bed, basking in the warmth for a little while longer.  

You savored the calm, relaxing mornings with Bucky whenever you could, holding on tightly and never wanting to let go. Being an Avenger, Bucky wasn’t always able to spend these few extra minutes with you in bed. So, when he did get a chance like this, he snatched it up and milked it for all its worth.  

He relished in the feeling of your fingers drawing mindless patterns on his bare chest, your warm breath against his neck, hearing your heartbeat and knowing you weren’t just a figment of his imagination. He felt forever grateful for you, and he was going to make sure you had a great birthday.  

A knock on the front door of your shared apartment popped the bubble of solitude you had going. 

“Who’s that?” You grumble into his neck, voice slightly muffled. 

“That would be breakfast,” he chuckles. 

“When the hell did you order breakfast?” 

“Before you woke up.” You hum and start to get up before he halts your movements. 

“Oh no you don’t,” he huffs with a smile. “I will get that and bring it to you. You keep your gorgeous ass in this bed.” He jumps out of bed before you can protest, but not before getting his legs tangled in the sheets and stumbling, causing you to giggle. He darts out the room, not bothering to put pants on, answering the door in his boxers.  

You quickly get up to pee and take your meds before he gets back. Just as you get settled back in bed, Bucky comes in with a try. On it was a neatly arranged breakfast from your favorite breakfast place down the road. You don’t eat there often, not wanting to spend a fortune for just two people, no matter how good said food was.  

You gasp softly and sit up so he can place the tray over your lap.  

“Oh Bucky,” you sigh. “Thank you.” 

“Anything for my birthday girl,” he sat down next to you on the bed and kissed your forehead. “Dig in, baby.”  

You start shoveling food in your mouth, moaning at the taste. You of course share your special breakfast after learning he hadn’t ordered anything for himself. He denied, of course. But after a few empty threats he agreed and started to eat.  

You were full by the time your ADHD meds kicked in. Bucky took the tray away and you curled back up, ready to go back asleep. 

“Oh no ma’am you don’t,” he said, pulling the blankets off you. “You need to get ready. Nat and Wanda will be here at nine, which is-” he checks the clock. “-In 40 minutes.” 

You huff and pout. “Can’t we just stay in bed?” You bite your lip and run your hands down his chest, the muscles tensing the lower you go. He stops your movements right as your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers.  

“As much fun as that sounds, you have a big day today, so up you go.” He effortlessly lifts you out of the bed. 

You laugh and start to get ready. You dress in the blue jeans that hug your hips and thighs just right and make Bucky’s knees weak. You put a white fluffy sweater and thick heeled black boots on. While you brush your teeth Bucky braids your hair, his tongue peeking out between his teeth as he focuses.  

By the time you were ready the girls were out there waiting. With a kiss to your lips and his card in your hands because, it’s your birthday and I wanna treat you. You were off. You went shopping, got your hair and nails done, the works.  

You had an amazing day, the most fun in too long. By the time you were done you were exhausted, wanting nothing more than to take a hot bubble bath with Bucky and have a little fun in bed. But of course, he had other plans.  

As you, Natasha, and Wanda walked into yours and Bucky’s shared apartment, shopping bags in hand. It was abnormally dark, confused you turned on the lights and screamed, Natasha recording the whole thing. 

“SURPRISE!!” Everyone yelled and laughed at your reaction. All the Avengers were there, even Thor. Clint, his wife and kids, Sam and Steve, Tony and Pepper, even T’Challa and Shuri were there, everyone was there. 

But what caught your eye was the big, grinning goofball standing in the middle of it all holding a ‘happy birthday’ sign.  

“Did you do this?” You laugh. He nods and you hug him. He wraps his arm around you, the other holding the sign. “Thank you” 

“You’re welcome, doll,” he smiles, kissing your forehead. 

“Alright,” Tony claps his hands together. “Let's get this party started!” He pulls out two bottles of Whiskey.  

“Tony no-” 

“Tony yes!” He interrupts Steve. 

After a few glasses of Whiskey, many chimichangas, courtesy of Deadpool. A piece of cake, and many, many expensive and one-of-a-kind gifts later. You stood in the corner watching all of your friends family dance and party. You felt very grateful to be a part of this chaotic bunch of people.  

Bucky comes up next to you, wrapping his metal arm around your waist, tipsy from the Asgardian mead Thor and Loki had brought.  

“Hey doll,” he slurs. “Did you have a good birthday?”  

You nod. “I did, yes,” I smile. “Thank you, baby.”  

“The night’s not over yet,” he wiggles his eyebrows, a knowing smirk on his face.  

“James!” You scold playfully. “We have guests over!”  

“They won’t notice, come on.” He was already leading you to the bedroom. “Just 30 minutes.” 

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, not bothering to hide your smile. “But only 30 minutes.”  

“Scouts honor,” he grins.  

45 minutes later... 

“Where is Bucky and Y/N?” Steve asks.  

“Fucking like the rabbits they are,” Tony slurs, absolutely hammered. Steve chokes on his drink, turning red.  

People say that birthdays and holidays get less fun as you get older, but with Bucky, you couldn’t wait to see what he was gonna do next. 

[bluestjayy]

Kinktober 2024 Prompt List

It's almost that time of the year again, and I am already eager to get pre-writing some fics; In order to do that though, I needed a prompt list. So I made one!

My prompt list comes with three prompts per day:

Theme || Kink/Sex Act || Location/Situation

You are welcome to pick and choose which prompt you use on any given day; I have tried to match them all up in some ways that could help give some story ideas, but maybe only one speaks to you, maybe two, or maybe you want to challenge yourself and use all three! It's up to you, this is all about you having fun.

If you create anything using this list I would love to know about it!! You can tag my account (@bluestjayy) or you can tag you work with #JayyKinktober2024 - I’m so excited to see what you come up with! Any fandom and any characters welcome!

Happy creating 💛

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Kinktober Day 6 || Sexual Position Dice

PAIRING || Boyfriend!Young!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || 3.6K

SUMMARY || Your best friend and dormmate, Natasha Romanoff, has gifted you a pair of special dice not too long ago, so you and Tony decide to take them for a roll (or two).

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Canon divergence. No powers AU. College AU. Young!Tony Stark AU. Reader is described as tattooed. Discussion about getting a tattoo. Explicit sexual content.

SMUT || Sexual position dice. Dirty talk. Praise. Oral (F & M receiving). 69. Facesitting. Doggy style. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Multiple orgasms. Aftercare.

A/N || Honestly, this story is one of my favorites I wrote for you all during my participation in Kinktober! It's been something I've been wanting to explore for a while, and I'm happy I did, so I hope you'll all enjoy it. As always, my endless gratitude goes to @ccbsrmsf1 for the support and proofreading. I love you, bestie! 🤍

SMUT @mcukinkbingo || Sexual position dice

All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Young!Tony Stark || Kinktober 2024

"Are you ready to have some fun today, Sunshine?" your boyfriend asks with a raised brows and a smirk as you're straddling his lap, and he's holding up a small bag made of black velvet, in which a pair of dice is stored. You'll be housesitting for Tony's parents as they're away for a trip to Italy, meaning you'll have the entire house for yourselves. Tony plans on making it an experience never to forget as he's holding the dice up.

A few weeks ago, Natasha gifted them as a surprise, and even though you weren't sure if you'd ever use the dice, you're thrilled that he has brought them to spice up your stay.

"I'm more ready than you know, My Love," you tell him with your hands splayed over his chest as you lean in, the words being whispered in his ear as you slowly grind on his growing length. When you pull back, you see a red flush on his cheeks that makes him look adorable. He groans ever so softly as your hips take their time working him over, his cock hardening with every pass.

"Well, let's get to rollin' before you make me cum in my pants, Sunshine," Tony tells you, his cheeks reddening even further as he does. With a chuckle, you climb off his lap, allowing him to get the dice out and roll them for the first time.

One has positions on it, while the other has a time on it - ranging from 1 minute to 15 minutes - and you're curious what it will land on first. As soon as they hit the table in front of you, your heart rate spikes and your excitement and arousal also grow at the same time.

"It looks like I'm gonna have some with you and your pussy," Tony says with a grin as it lands on 'facesitting' and '15 minutes'. Secretly, you were hoping for it to land on this one, as you love it when Tony eats you out and makes you cum until you're a fucked out mess before he even has the chance to get his dick wet.

It's good you decided to wear a dress today because your boyfriend slips your panties down your legs quickly before putting them in his pocket and getting comfortable on the large couch, leaving plenty of room to sit comfortably on his face.

As you straddle his face, a gush of arousal makes you even more wet for your waiting boyfriend, whose eyes are trained on your sweet, tight pussy hovering above him. His tongue flicks out, wetting his lips in anticipation, and you gently lower yourself, still leaning forward a bit so as not to shift your entire weight onto his body.

"Sunshine," Tony says as he pushes you up a bit, your body leaning forward as you lift yourself further.

"It said 'facesitting,' not 'face hovering.' You should really sit this delicious ass down all the way on my face, or else I'm going to have to bend you over my knee and let you see what happens to girls who don't listen," he says in a teasing yet stern tone and a whimper escapes your lips as he does.

Then, as you place your hands on his abdomen while facing his feet, you sink just like he wants. He groans in appreciation as your pussy finally makes contact with his mouth, and you shift your weight so you're fully sitting down despite being a little hesitant at first.

His fingers grip your inked thighs, and they're sure to leave bruises, but you don't care in the slightest as you work yourself back and forth over his face, his tongue buried inside your dripping entrance before playing with your sensitive clit.

You lean back as you place one of your hands on his chest, the other going back to grip his hair and pulling to give yourself even more leverage to work towards your orgasm. The rhythm you've set has you moaning loudly, the coil inside you ready to snap at any second now.

A long groan from your boyfriend reverberates through your entire body, and with one last grind, you're shaking on top of him, pleasure overflowing as arousal gushes out of you and onto your boyfriend's face. A loud moan of his name has him gripping onto you even tighter, doing everything in his power not to cum yet.

Your entire body feels like cooked noodles as you gently lower yourself onto your stomach, your face now at the same level as Tony's cock. It's looking as perfect as ever; the slight curve is already making you clench around nothing.

On instinct, you reach out your hand and wrap it around his length, slowly working it up and down to feel the weight of him again. Even though he happily woke you up with his cock buried deep inside you this morning, you'll never get enough of it, and you're salivating at the sight of his tip leaking pre-cum. The skin feels like velvet around his rigid flesh, and the salty taste in your mouth as you wrap your lips around his squishy tip has you immediately wanting more.

"Fuck, 's so good, Sunshine. Makin' me feel like 'm floatin'," he says, his New York accent starting to slip out as you take your time working him over. With every stroke, you also take more of him in your mouth, sucking while Tony grabs your hips tightly, pulling you towards his face again.

"Gonna feast on this sweet pussy again, Sunshine, and if you keep goin' like that, 'm gonna give you all my cum," he says seductively, watching your hole clench around nothing as he does. A smirk tugs at his mouth before licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance, and you moan around his length as he does.

As you do, Tony’s abdomen clenches underneath you, trying his hardest to keep his pleasure at bay just a little longer. With a lift of his head, he’s burying his tongue deeper than before, your body instinctively working in such a way that has you grinding against his face as he digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to get an even better reach of your dripping nectar.

“Tony, ‘m close,” you say as your words turn into a long moan, your hand gently squeezing the bottom of his cock just the way he loves. Then, in an act that he didn’t expect, you lean down to trace the tip of your tongue over the sensitive vein that runs on the bottom of his cock, before suckling on his tip again. This move always drives him insane, and today, it drives him to his orgasm as well.

Your hand keeps working steadily as you swallow every last drop of his cum, your own body shuddering as your boyfriend manages to pull a second orgasm from you. With expert precision, he gently works you through your climax, ensuring you don’t drop from your high. His hands keep rubbing your ass and hips, and he even surprises you with a soft spank that has you gasping loudly - his lips finding every inch of flesh they can as he places soft kisses everywhere. A smile tugs on your mouth as you crawl off of him, letting yourself fall onto the oversized couch as you do.

“I fucking love you, Tony, and I can’t wait until it’s my turn to roll.”

The past thirty minutes have been spent cuddling on the couch together, which you love. Being wrapped in his arms as you hear his heartbeat and the feel of his chest rising and falling is a sure way to get you sleepy, and just as you’re about to cross the edge into falling asleep, your boyfriend wakes you up with a soft shake.

“Did you still want to roll those dice, or would you prefer a nap instead?” he asks softly, his gaze very loving as he takes his time taking in your features, wanting to commit them to memory repeatedly. At the sight, your heart melts a bit, and you can’t help but fall even more in love with the man you’re hoping to call your husband one day.

“Hmm, I’d love a nap, but I’m also excited about the dice,” you say with a sleepy smile, lifting yourself to reach the two dice still on the table where they landed when your boyfriend rolled them the first time. With a flick of your wrist, you roll them again. This time, they land on ‘doggy style’ and a little clock, meaning you can decide how long you want it to take, and your heartbeat immediately quickens at the thought of Tony fucking you senseless as your face is pushed into the pillows of the couch.

“Do you need some help getting ready, My Love?” you ask as you look back at him, and he smirks as he shakes his head.

“The only help I’ll need is seeing you with your ass in the air, waiting for my cock to fill you up, and I’ll be hard in no time,” he tells you, followed by a soft hum of appreciation as his fingers glide over your tattooed thigh. The fact that you’re constantly adding to your growing collection of ink on your body is something Tony admires, and he’s looking forward to his name - and the ones of your future children - being added to it. At the thought, the corners of his soft, plump lips curl upwards, his heart beating faster.

After a few pecks on his lips, you turn around, getting into position as Tony takes himself into his hand to stroke himself to total hardness, a groan escaping his lips as he looks at the way your ass and pussy are on display for him. Then, as a total surprise, he lands a spank on your ass with his free hand, the jiggle of it making him smile as he speeds up his pace with his hand. He’d never get enough of this sight, and he will surely ruin you later.

“Ready, Sunshine?” Tony asks, and you wiggle your ass in response, the jiggle making him bite his bottom lip. He lays his hand on your hip to steady you - and himself - as he lines up, his tip ready to slip into your welcoming pussy with a gentle thrust. Reflexively, you clench around the intrusion, gripping your boyfriend like a vice as he drops his head back, pleasure already building inside him.

“So tight for me, Sunshine; she’s grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice,” he says through gritted teeth, your fingers digging into the couch as he takes his time working himself into you. No matter how many times he’ll fuck you and stretch you to your limits, she’s always going to be the tightest, most delicious pussy he’s ever felt around him, and he can spend hours there if you’d let him - and you often do.

“Feels good, Tony,” you whine, his name slipping out without a second thought. Your brain has become entirely useless after your first orgasm, and Tony has never been more thankful for this fact. A wicked grin graces his features as he works his thick cock into you one inch at a time until his pelvis meets the flesh of your plush ass, taking every single inch of him in the process.

“What do you think, Sunshine? You’re gonna let me ruin this perfect pussy?” he asks rhetorically, as he already knows the answer. One of his hands grips your hip while the other strokes over your spine until his hand is wrapped around your neck, his thumb rubbing slightly over your throat as you swallow. From this angle, you can feel your boyfriend even deeper than you did before, and he hasn’t even made a move to fuck you yet.

“Please, please ruin me,” you beg, and Tony hums in approval as he pulls his hips back before sliding in again, pleasure taking over his entire being as he does. The way your warm pussy welcomes him every single time has his head spinning with love and arousal, and he already knows it’s not going to take long for him to cum this time. Despite this, he wants you to cum first, your pleasure adding to his own.

“I will, sweet girl, ‘m gonna ruin you so fucking good you won’t be able to walk properly for the rest of the day,” he grunts as his hips set a bruising pace. His grip on your neck shifts as he pulls his hand back, needing it to grip onto your other hip - your back is arching even more as Tony fucks you relentlessly. The sounds of skin slapping against skin and your arousal making a delicious squelching sound has your pussy walls fluttering, the filth of it all adding to your pleasure.

“C-close, please, ‘m s-so c-close,” you tell him as his thrusts distort your words. Again, his hand moves from your hip, but this time he reaches underneath you to find your sensitive clit, which even puffier than usual from all the times his balls hit it, and a loud cry of pleasure tears through the house as you’re falling over the edge of your release.

“That’s it, Sunshine, cum on my cock like a little slut,” Tony says through gritted teeth, trying his absolute hardest not to cum yet. He’s been planning on painting your ass with his seed, wanting to turn you into his masterpiece as he does. As much as he loves filling you up, he also loves making you look as filthy as possible with his cum dripping off every inch of your willing body, and he can’t wait to snap some photos to add to his collection.

Then, without warning, he pulls out to wrap his hand around his cock, jerking off as he spreads your cheeks with his free hand to open you up for him. An appreciative groan leaves his lips as he cums, spurt after spurt of his warm, sticky cum landing on your back, your ass, and your puffed-up and thoroughly used pussy. It seems to be neverending as he’s milking himself for every last drop that he’s worth, his chest rising and falling with every ragged breath he takes.

“So fucking beautiful, Sunshine. Is it okay if I take photos? Wanna remember this moment as I’ll definitely touch myself to this one day,” he asks between pants, and you let him know it’s more than okay. You reach back with both hands, opening yourself up for your boyfriend as he snaps as many pictures as his heart desires. It makes you feel fabulous as he does, as there’s no bigger compliment than him wanting to take photos to remember how ruined you are.

“You’re such a good girl for me, Sunshine, such a good, perfect girl,” he says as he gets off the couch and crouches down to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You’ve now lowered your butt so that you’re sitting on your knees; your head lifted slightly so you can meet his gaze. He kisses your forehead softly as he strokes the top of your head, and you can’t help but smile as your eyes slip shut.

“Thank you for everything, My Love,” you tell him with a hoarse voice; your moans have left you with a rugged voice that has him smiling with pride.

“You don’t have to thank me, Sunshine. I love you, and I love having sex with you whenever, wherever, and however you want,” he tells you, followed by a kiss on your nose before he gets up and quickly grabs a towel to clean most of his cum off your back and butt cheeks. Once you’re clean, he helps you get up before taking you to the bathroom that houses a large bath, and he lets it fill up while pulling you close.

“I still can’t believe how lucky I am with you, Sunshine. To have had the opportunity to meet someone as amazing as you is something I’ll never forget, and I thank my lucky stars every single day that I get to spend this lifetime with you by my side,” he says, tears brimming at his waterline as he admits his feelings for you. You pull back to cup his cheeks, your thumbs rubbing his cheekbones as you look into his eyes.

“You know what, My Love? You’re right. You are lucky to be spending your lifetime with me,” you tell him with a laugh, and he can’t help but burst into laughter at your words. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close as you share this beautiful moment. After a few more kisses and loving glances, it’s time to get into the bath, where Tony lets you soak for a moment as he grabs some fruit from the fridge.

As soon as he’s back, he gets comfortable in the water you’ve been sitting in, and you cuddle up against his front so he can feed you all the pieces of fruit your heart desires. His hands wander all over your body before stopping on a large spot of open skin on your thigh. The surrounding area is filled with flowers of all kinds and other tattoos, but you intentionally left that spot blank for a future project.

“Have you thought of what you will put here, Sunshine?” he asks as his fingers trace its outline. You can feel your cheeks heating up as you look at it, but you decide to tell him the truth.

“I’ve always dreamt of getting my partner's name tattooed there and my babies' names if I’m ever blessed to have them. As a matter of fact, I have an appointment to get your name tattooed there soon, as I know I want to spend my life with you, Tony. You’re my forever, and I love you so much,” you tell him as you turn your body towards him.

“I- I don’t know what to say, Sunshine,” Tony stammers, his cheeks dark red and tears in his eyes as you look at him. If he thought he’d loved you a lot before, it was nothing compared to how his heart swells with love right now. Instead of saying anything else, he lets his tears flow, pulling you in for more cuddles as he kisses your head.

“I love you, Sunshine, and I want you to know you’re my forever, too. And we’re going to have the most beautiful babies together, I just know it,” he says with a smile, his voice still thick with tears. While you never dared to dream about starting a family in your earlier part of life, you’ve slowly opened yourself up to the idea since meeting Tony, as he’s always supported you and loves you with his entire body and soul.

“I love you too, Tony,” you say before capturing his lips with yours, the kiss unhurried and nothing short of perfect. That night, you and Tony make love again, unable to get enough of each other and your love. As you fall asleep in your boyfriend’s arms, you’re fantasizing about what life with him and your future kids would be like.

The following day, as you wake up, you notice your boyfriend isn’t next to you in bed, and you’re about to get up to find him when you see a note on the nightstand with your name on it.

Dear Y/N,

Please stay in bed as long as you want this morning, as I’m working on a surprise for you. I put your Kindle on my pillow for you; it’s fully charged, so you can stay there while I prepare everything.

I love you, and I will see you soon.

~ Your future husband

As you read it, you look at his pillow, and you do indeed see your Kindle, but the back of it has changed. Before today, there was a simple blue case around it, but Tony has exchanged it for a clear case and Polaroids of you and Tony, you and Natasha—your best friend—and you, Tony, Natasha, and Bruce. You can’t stop smiling as the photos fill your heart with endless warmth. For the next hour or so, you take your time to read your book, and right as you finish it, Tony knocks on the bedroom door to let you know about his arrival.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he says as he pushes the door open. You don’t see anything he’s holding as your gaze is immediately pulled to the bulge in the front of his tight grey sweatpants, and you immediately know he’s not wearing underwear based on the size of his delicious bulge. Only when he clears his throat do you look up at him and the breakfast he prepared for you, your cheeks on fire after you’ve been ogling your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you say shyly, making Tony smile as he puts down the breakfast he prepared for you. From your favorite pancakes to some delicious sandwiches and an entire thermos of your favorite tea with cookies, he has thought of everything to ensure you don’t have to leave the bed anytime soon.

“Thank you for this, Tony; I cannot tell you enough how much I appreciate you,” you tell him before kissing him a few times, hunger settling in your belly. As you go back to reading on your Kindle, Tony grabs his laptop to work on some assignments for school, and you both snack on the breakfast he prepared. If this is what life will be like from now on, you’re even happier to have fallen in love with Tony.

“I love you, Sunshine. Thank you for walking into my life when you did; I wouldn’t be where I am today without you and your love.”

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

A Table of Contents to all my CoD Men x Reader Fics

My shit was getting disorganized as fuck, so I collected everything I've typed on here and put it into a single post, just to make it easier to find my stuff if you ever choose to. User Accessibility matters!

Note - All of this is 18+ and Mature, but not all of it is Smut

SFW/Fluff // Masterlist

The masterlist to all of the SFW/Fluff One-Shots for Ghost x Reader.

No Good Men Left To Spare // Masterlist

No pair of people hated each other more than you and Ghost. To him, you were just another loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and immature little princess needing to be humbled. To you, he was just a boring, broody asshole hellbent on not liking you. Things between you two couldn't be any worse. After pushing one too many of his buttons tonight, you and Ghost going off to have a quick smoke turns into something else entirely.

Make Me Beg

Ghost had been curious to see if you could be the one to make him beg for a change, in which to both his pleasure and dismay, you oblige.

Greedy

Ghost x Dom!Reader x Soap

Ghost and Soap find themselves crushing on the same woman on their team, a friendly bout between two comrades to see who you'll choose, only your answer's not one they'd expected to hear.

The Lights Stay Off

No Summary :(

NSFW, 18+, Shameless Smut, No Plot, Porn w/out Plot, Sex in the dark, Explicit, Graphic Language, Teasing, Touch-Starved Touching, Embarrassing, First Time Together, Fingering, Sloppy Kisses, Somewhat Rough Sex, slightly Intimate, Ghost is a bit of a dom, Reader's a bit snarky

Ghost Fan Edit

My thirst for this man is endless. I've been thirsty since I was 11 and first laid eyes on him in 2009. He just gets finer each year. I don't think I'd have my mask kink without him.

Now you get to see how rhythmically challenged I am. These are fun to make; once I get better at them I'll be unstoppable (｀∀´)Ψ

I Won't Forget

Short Drabble ~ Your last night with Johnny...

Can You Spot Me?

You decide to reward Soap after finishing a set on the bench press.

NSFW 18+, Explicit, Shameless Smut, Porn w/out Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Gym Sex, Teasing, Fluff, Flirting, Cunnilingus, Blow-Jobs, Cowgirl, P in V, Might be a little tame, but still Graphic Description, no Y/N usage

Greedy (same story as above one in Ghost's section)

Speedracer

Gaz x Reader x Soap

It's not every day Gaz gets to drive fast cars. It's also not every day he gets to race hot strangers on the road either.

SFW, Some swearing, Fluff, Flirting, Banter, Racing, Three-Way flirting, Random, Innocent, Some Car Lingo, Soap and Gaz sharing a single brain cell, Eventual smut in part two, scarcely proofread

Been In Love

After a breakup, Price figures a walk along the beach might make for a good distraction. What he did not expect to find was a strange woman standing off to the shore, who looked as though she were about ready to drown herself at sea.

pt. 0 | pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

Bloodstained Honesty

Wounded, bloody, and just the two of you. A mission gone wrong leads to a long overdue moment between both you and your Captain, perhaps too late to count for anything. Not if either of you two can help it at least.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

Sex Tape ~ Kinktober Prompt

No summary (._. )

NSFW (18+), Shameless Smut, Explicit Detail, Groping, Fingering, Nipple-Play, Oral (Female Receiving), AFAB!Reader Long-Distance, Sex Tape, Scarcely Proofread, Kinktober

Some Days

Drabble ~ Price has a tendency to wake up most mornings before you...

SFW, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Innocent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mornings, Wife Reader, Soft Price, Price is a little mopey, scarcely proofread

Let Me Play You A Song

During a get-together, you and the Captain decide to sneak off for a spell. The intentions were mostly pure. At the start...

Captain Price Fan Edit

My first time making a video like this EVER (ʃᵕ̩̩ ᵕ̩̩). It came out more like a trailer than an edit, but I had so much fun making this. I really hope you like it! *totally not nervous* (　◜◡‾)

Captain Price Fan Edit 2

Control Masterlist

Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Angst, Romance, Drama

You’ve been with Shadow Company long enough to know working alongside 141 on their search for the stolen American missiles wouldn’t be an ordinary assignment. And most importantly, you knew Graves. Shadow Company keeps its allies close, and its enemies closer. When you’re given a job, it gets done without conflict. Without loose ends.

Your true mission is clear to you -- keep an eye on 141 and keep them comfortable. Anything it takes to alleviate suspicion of Shadow Company’s involvement with the missing missiles. This wasn’t about saving lives, this was a deadly game of control, and you intend to do so flawlessly.

Phillip Graves Character Trailer

Deepthroating ~ Kinktober Prompt

Drabble - You decide to pay your commander a little visit during one of his later nights in the office...

Welp, that's that. Thanks ( .-.)

...

Here are links to some of my gaming clips if interested (shameless plug)

One | Two | Three | Four | Five

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

20 questions for writers tag game!

tagged by @softodettes (very exciting, thank you!!)

Total number of AO3 works

Seven! 

Total AO3 word count

151, 278

Fandoms I’ve written in

Empyrean and the Marauders 

Top 5 fics by kudos

One Night, and Then Another, On The Road Again, To Soothe And Be Soothed, Of Mothers and Storms, and One Night. 

Do I respond to comments? 

Yes, always! Sometimes it takes me a while because I get nervous and sometimes it takes me a while because I want to reread each comment 437534598 times, and I feel weird about re reading AFTER replying. But, I always try to reply, especially if I’m already on AO3 to post something. 

What has the angstiest ending? 

None of my Empyrean fics have angsty endings! My one published marauders fic, If, If, If. does have a pretty angsty ending, but only if you know the marauder's story going in.

What has the happiest ending? 

All my empyrean fics? But going off of what currently has a published ending, I would say Of Mothers and Storms. Although, we get some nice orgasms in To Soothe and Be soothed, so that’s also a happy ending. 

Have I received hate? 

No! And please keep it that way. I think it helps that everyone in this fandom is so damn nice. 

Do I write smut? And what kind? 

I do! I have my Violiaden smut, and also just regular old Riorgail stuff embedded in my longer fics! I want to write more smut actually, and I keep thinking about doing kinktober this year, but that’s scary, so we’ll see. 

Do I write crossovers? 

Not published ones! I have like three pages of a marauders/empyrean crossover that will never see the light of day. 

Have I ever had a fic stolen? 

Nope! 

Have I ever had a fic translated?

Nope! I am not that cool. 

Have I ever co written a fic? 

Not yet! It seems very fun, though, and I am intrigued. 

What is my all time favorite ship? 

I think AO3 would say wolfstar, but my current fixation is obviously riorgail. 

A WIP I’ll never finish?

I have a few chapters of a riorgail arranged marriage AU, but working in the canon world was way too hard for me. I have too many questions we don’t know the answers to just yet. I guess MAYBE I’ll finish it once more books are out, but probably not. 

Writing strengths? 

I get a lot of comments saying I write emotions well (which I appreciate SO much). I like to think I’m good at realistic dialogue, if only because it's something I pay a lot of attention to.

Writing weaknesses?

I don’t see the scene very well in my head, so I always forget where people are, and also what they’re wearing. Clothes have been driving me absolutely crazy lately. 

Do I like foreign language dialogue? 

I do! I actually just read my first fic with foreign language dialogue I could actually understand, and that was so much fun! I don’t know if I‘ll ever write any? Just because I don’t think I know enough of any other languages to not butcher it, but maybe one day! (I am so excited for the scene @skyfallscotland promised, where Xaden learns Remi’s understood his Tyrrish, I think about it regularly) 

First fandom I wrote for? 

Marauders! 

Favorite fic I’ve written? 

Probably my exchange fic, Homesick. I kept this one in my drafts for a WHILE, and I grew really attached to it to the point that I do not care whatsoever how it performs. It’s my baby, and I love it no matter what. 

I'd like to tag: @justallihere @hockeyspiral23 @heartfeltletters-written and @caeli0306 (but no pressure!!)

[optiwashere]

Fanfic Writer Questions

Yay, thanks for the tag @askweisswolf! 💜

I'm gonna tag a few folks to do this if they want, but anyone that sees this and wants to join in can consider me tagging them! @bottombatch @jasminethetransvampire @centaursniper @underworldobsessed @quitefair @siyurikspakvariisis @riteontime

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

89, but that's not quite telling the whole story. I've written a number of one-shot collections, and those have upwards of 200+ short fics in them.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

As of right now, my stats page says 829, 334 words, but that's not correct really. I've abandoned/deleted/orphaned some works. The real number is probably over 1M.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I only write for Baldur's Gate 3 at the moment and that's gonna color the rest of the questions. Once I find a fandom that I like writing for then I tend to stick to that fandom for years. I'm interested in dipping my toes into the Pathfinder WOTR ficdom eventually, but probably only a little because my Golarion knowledge is real slim. If Dreadwolf is good, I'll probably wind up writing something for that as well. I wasn't very interested in video game fandoms for a long time, which is odd because it's only become more compelling as I've gotten older when I'm also playing fewer games.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Currently? I'm actually not at all surprised by this order, except for the one OC fic that managed to find its way there. That is pleasantly surprising, and I'm glad it's one that I also like a fair bit. 1. Take Me Under Your Wing (E-rated Aylin/Shadowheart/Isobel) 2. Black and Red and Smoking All Over (E-rated Shadowheart/Karlach) 3. Her Private Shore (E-rated Shadowheart/Asheera) 4. Arcane Mishaps (E-rated Shadowheart/Karlach -- yay, some t4t made it!) 5. Tasting Moonlight (E-rated Aylin/Isobel) Now, this tells a certain story on its face, but you have to remember that 4/5 of these were posted in Kinktober only two months after the full release of the game. That was the height of its popularity on AO3, and I highly doubt if these fics were released today they would have hit the same numbers. That also includes the Shadowheart/Asheera fic, by the way. I could see that one barely breaking 40-50 kudos these days. P.S. Stats are silly

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, all of them. I get quite a few, and with so many fics across a fresh fandom it means that I occasionally get newcomers to various niche fics. Sometimes people stumble into a pile of fics that they like in one of the ships, and it's so delightful when I see it. Same with people that I see reading Light Casts a Shadow in order :') Most of the fun in fandom is interacting with like-minded people, anyways. Kudos and such are also people saying they like the thing, but people actually coming out to talk to me are my #1 priority. I like to hear y'all's thoughts and even wind up chatting a little in some cases :)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

When Everything is Dark and Guided Through Gardens Gray both have fairly angsty endings, but I think Melpomene might be one of the darker endings of my smutty fics. Fragrant is My Many Flower'd Crown is absolutely my angstiest non-smut ending though.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Almost certainly it's the final ficlet of my headcanuary collection, The Missing Piece. It's open-ended, but it's overwhelmingly saying that things will be all right.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yeah, occasionally. The open stuff is a lot less common now, but there are a couple fics that have gotten pretty ugly comments. I moderate those away without locking down because my skin is plenty thick. I get a fair few anons, again thankfully reduced these days, that absolutely despise me. They make me laugh more than anything now because I've blocked so many. I've also seen some passive aggressive vague posting about me here and elsewhere, which is always hilarious.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yes. Kinky, vanilla, descriptive and action heavy, flowery and emotive. All kinds, really. Usually trends towards loving and hopeful and sweetly emotional.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't for BG3. Yet. There's a BG3/WOTR crossover that I really want to write, but I need to find the time for it between everything else.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep, twice. And it was way more than one fic both times!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so? At least, not that anyone has ever told me. I'd love for someone to feel the urge to do that, though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I don't think so? Technically, at least? I've certainly had writing brainstorm sessions that could count for this, but never anything where either of us wanted to call it co-writing.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Ouch. I don't really have an answer for this tbh. I like to compartmentalize ships to fandoms. BTW, it's Shadowheart/Original Female Character for BG3. Yeah, all of your Tavs and Durges. Asheera's my favorite, of course, but I've never been so invested in a Canon/OC ship.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There's a fantasy AU I wrote for Parks and Rec with April Ludgate as a witch/vampire that I know I'll never get back to.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Emotional forwardness, probably. Maybe solid grammar? Writing speed? Anyways, I like to explore emotions explicitly with characters where they really feel everything to extreme degrees. It's hyperreal, but I think it's also compelling to both write and read.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting, weak metaphors, and consistent characterization.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I do it fairly often in fantasy fandoms without qualms. Also, I tend to use the italicized text in fiction to indicate that it's a different language, not that it's "wrong" or anything like that. Doing that in nonfiction, however, feels pretty gross. Real world languages? I don't do it unless I'm familiar with the language or know someone that can beta it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Technically wrote for? That's really hard to remember for me, but it was probably something like R.A. Salvatore Drizzt fanfic tbh. Could have been any number of fantasy series at that age though. The Dragonlance books, Black Company, or Discworld, maybe? Hard for me to really think back that far because I know for a fact that I used to write stories as a kid, but it's all very foggy and I lost all that stuff in a flood years ago. Posted for? A fandom I don't really want to associate with anymore.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Bend to Break to Mend is my favorite thing I've written for BG3, followed closely by It Is the Wound She Gave Me and Like I Am Safe Again.

[yobotica]

Fandom Homework

Idea by @razielim, I like the idea of sitting down and talking about the stuff I want to be working on! Mostly pretty rambly here, so I'll put it all beneath a cut:

It's all gonna be about the WIPs, baby! I think the thing that comes to mind most on 'boy I wish I could finish this' is actually the fallout AU I have for Assassin's Creed. ShaunDes, of course, but I think the ultimate plan was to try for OT3 with Clay on this one. I've never done it, but I get a lot of comments for that on my other fics and I think it would be interesting in this setting if I can make it work. I think the current plan for this one is more a sort of main 'how the group got together' vibe (all the moderns) and then snippets/side stories for some of their adventures. I do have an overall plot involving everyone figuring out who they are, secrets coming to light, etc. I just gotta get it all written is all.

Second is obviously to finish my in progress titanfall fic, which I usually just refer to as Weary, lol. While I've never once really felt pressured that updates are few and far between by comments on AO3, I sometimes regret posting it before it was finished. I never post WIPs as they're worked on because I am the slowest writer - once I get going, I can write pretty fast, it's just the getting started that trips me up. That, and i end up writing a lot of stuff that it turns out, it's not time for, or it's just not right for the story. I think I'm at like, over 15k words discarded for this fic overall, some of which has been repurposed/used already (just later than when it was originally written), but most of which has not. (Yet; I know at least two bits are just too early).

Third is a fic that is almost 10 years old and unfinished. It's only been posted up to chapter 10 on the assassin's creed kinkmeme, the last chapter of which was posted in 2016. It's almost complete, actually, sitting at just under 55.5k words, but I can't quite pin down the ending. Then it needs to be edited. Insert sad-cowboy emoji.

I'd really like to revisit my old DS9 stuff. I never published any of it on AO3 - in fact, I can't even remember if I've published any of it anywhere. It's some of the earliest stuff I've written, and it's pretty rough by my standards, but it's still something I'd like to get some time into and whip up into something readable at some point.

I want to learn how to draw transformers! I've wanted to for a while, but I recently watched Transformers One and it was gorgeous. There's a lot of different styles for the whole franchise, but I like that one a lot. That and Transformers Prime, which I haven't seen yet, lol. I'm a pretty recent fan, to be honest, but me and a friend have spent a lot of time making transformers OCs that I'd love to be able to draw just for fun. (It's the only reason I play Forza Horizon 5 at all, is to make the car forms for those that can be made in that game.)

I'd love to get works written for a few fandoms I've been into for a while, but never written for. Stuff like Dishonored, Legacy of Kain/Soul Reaver, Inception or even Dragon Age. Mostly based on vibes rather than concrete ideas (except for dishonored, which I have exactly one (1) idea that could be used for fic), but still. It's something I'd like to do.

Oh! I need to finish and edit the FFXV fic I have in progress! It could be considered complete enough, to be honest, but it feels incomplete to me for some reason. I wrote up to a certain point, then lost all steam. It's set post Episode Ignis alternate ending, a really, really cute and sweet fic.

I think one thing I'd like to do is maybe just post a collection on AO3 of my WIPs. I don't think of anything I've written as abandoned, even if it's been years since I looked at them, but I also do think some of it was pretty good! I don't know how readers feel about this, though.

I'd like to get more Deus Ex fic written, too. I had a few things perk my interested for kinktober but October was mostly a really shit month for me, so I got no writing done at all. I definitely don't mind using those prompts late or anything, but I still haven't got any creative juice for writing right now, so they're just sitting there, waiting for their time.

I've also had a few ideas that I think I might never write but maybe folks might be interested in hearing about or adopting themselves? Like prompts, maybe. Adoptable fic ideas. Mostly it's stuff I'd love to read but not research to write myself, but that feels a little selfish, lol. But I also just think they're fun to talk about and gush over even if they never actually get written.

I think this was nice to sit down and write out. I don't post very much about myself or my work, but I've enjoyed seeing people talk about things they'd like to get done or things they have in progress and thought I'd share. I'm wishing you all well and hoping you all have something creative you'd like to look forward to doing as well! <3

[ourdramaqueen]

Fic Tag Game

I was tagged by @suchaladyy 🌸

20 questions:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

55, divided into fandoms as follows: Wednesday (TV 2022) (24) The Boys (TV 2019) (21) The Lord of the Rings (8) Sin City - All Media Types (1) Almost Human (TV) (1)

2. What’s your AO3 word count?

368,862

3. What fandoms do you write for?

See #1. Currently only Wednesday, though I do hope to get back into The Boys soon, and I still have some unpublished LotR WIPs that I'd like to actually finish sometime...

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Private Tutor

Kinktober Day 8: Shaving (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie)

Kinktober Day 2: See-through (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie)

Kinktober Day 18: Rough Sex (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie)

How do I passive-agressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I really appreciate when readers take the time to post a comment, so I always answer at least with a brief "thank you".

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Defintiely the whole Closer series (LotR, Frodo/Éomer) because it is mostly canon compliant, so it ends with Frodo going into the West. 😭My Rough Sex series (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie) is also fairly angsty by its nature as a series of mildly canon divergent gap filler fics following through the episodes of S1 and S2 (so far).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think pretty much anything apart from the above two series? Well, apart from the Struck by a Bolt series (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie), which has the potential to go either way.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't gotten outright hate, but certainly a few rude/entitled/"clearly hasn't read the tags or the end note despite me recommending to in the a/n at the beginning" comments.

9. Do you write smut? What kind?

LOL! All kinds. Soft, kinky (probably more kinky), some a bit dark. I seem to enjoy my ships a little fucked up.

10. Do you write cross-overs?

I don't have a proper crossover on my AO3 (see #12 for the reason why I specify it like this), though I'd love to write one sometime since I love reading them. The closest I've come is Kinktober Day 15: Monster Fucking (The Boys, Butcher/Hughie), which is heavily Beauty and the Beast inspired.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Little Brother was translating Private Tutor into Russian, though they haven't updated it in a while.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Oh yes! In fact, the first fics I posted online were cowritten with two (originally three, but one of then dropped out shortly after we'd started) friends, though under a different pen name and in a crossover of two small fandoms (with additional ones sneaking in here and there). I haven't written for that series in at least 15 years, though I still have fairly extensive notes for a trilogy of stories centered around my OC and I'd love to get back to that eventually.

But more recently, I've cowritten Line Without a Hook with erraticallyinspired (holyfudgemonkeys), who afaik isn't on Tumblr, and An Addams Family Guide to Kidnapping with @nonamemanga. I'm currently working on something with @suchaladyy, and who knows what and who will be next? It's a lot of fun!

13. What WIP would you like to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oof! I only have unpublished WIPs which I'm not sure if I'll ever get to finish them. Mostly for LotR.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I really can't choose. Go look at my bookmarks on AO3, LOL!

15. What are your writing strengths?

Oh boy. Um. I think I've figured out quite well how to show character through smut, as well as to distinguish characters from one another by how they behave and talk.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Hmm... Sometimes I get bogged down in details, though I've gotten much better at catching myself now. Oh, paragraphs of really long sentences, but again, I've improved a lot there. 😆

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Absolutely, as long as I'm confident in the language or have someone who's a native/fluent speaker to help me with it.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Are we talking wrote for myself, or published? Because I started as a teenager in the 80s, writing your typical Mary Sue self-inserts starring my favorite celebs, like Nick Rhodes from Duran Duran, by hand on notepads...

19. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Nope, still can't choose, sorry!

20. What fic would you want to rewrite one day?

There's one story from my first cowriting experience I mentioned in #12 that I would dearly love to rewrite because the constant POV changes are driving me nuts when I read it now! I don't think there's anything that's currently on my AO3 that I feel the need to rewrite.

I don't know who's been tagged or not, so if you haven't been but want to participate, consider yourself tagged!

[teababe27]

Paint Me Like One Of Your French Girls

Kinktober prompt list by @josiebelladonna / @feverinfeveroutfic

Prompt(s):

Tijuana Sunrise Day 28: Intimate artistry

I was so happy when I realized I had the perfect IRL story for this prompt!!! This was a fun time, and it's always nice to remember.

With a couple pictures!

People:

Myself

C (Boyfriend 2)

Being around C has shown me a side to kink I never thought about much beforehand: an artistic/dramatic/funny side. Sure, I'd once had a couple pretty rope harnesses put on me before, but I hadn't had much experience with C's particular flavor of kink, especially in public scenes at kink parties.

You see, he sees a lot of art in kink and vice versa. He said on his Fetlife profile that art is his overarching kink. He has fun with it. He considers his public scenes to be "half BDSM, half vaudeville extravaganzas". I've seen some of this from across dungeon floors and have heard about it from friends and seen it in pictures, and I can't help but smile and roll my eyes (in a positive way). It sometimes makes me wonder how I managed to find such a dorky boyfriend. Not a bad thing, of course.

A couple recent examples include him masquerading as a weird TV show host with puppets while spanking people, as well as tying up a friend of ours, acting out a story where C is a landlord asking for rent, and silly hijinks ensued. Once, he dressed up as a pirate and sang sea shanties while spanking for teasing and kinky torture. I often veer between being jealous of and in awe of his creativity and ideas.

Being around his brand of kink, the drama and flair, also somewhat inspired me with a fanfic I'd posted the first part of last month. (Also, it's Powerwolf - drama and flair is kinda their thing.)

Though what he's probably most well known for - besides his unorthodox scenes - is body painting.

As in, "painting landscapes on naked people" (his words, not mine; a pretty apt way to describe it).

When in a dungeon or at a kinky party or otherwise public scene, he goes all out. He even sometimes dresses up as Bob Ross and does a pretty good impression of him, too, while painting (painting on?) his subjects. I was at a small kinky party where this happened, and while trying to negotiate a scene with someone else, I kept launching into small giggle fits because of what was happening. I was honestly curious to try out being painted myself, even though his out-there/silly side of kink isn't something I'd go out of my way to be a part of. I eventually figured out that I wanted my first painting scene with him to be in private, just the two of us.

C does private painting scenes sometimes, but only with his girlfriends and other trusted kinky partners. We were not officially dating yet, but we had upgraded our relationship to more of a friends with benefits/play partners/more than friends-type thing. He had considered me part of his polycule for a while before we officially started dating. So after a few false starts, we finally got to have this time together.

Flash forward to September 2022. After some time walking around outside, cuddling, talking, and playing Pokemon Go, it was time to get to the painting. We began to negotiate the details. I had suggested green be included, so he decided to paint a forest scene. He had asked me if there was anywhere I would not want to be touched/painted.

"Maybe not on my lower stomach," I said. "It's still a bit numb and twitchy down there from my hernia surgery."

After a bit more talking and paint-proofing the bed in his guest room, I stripped down to just my panties and laid down on my back. I preferred this position because I wanted to be able to see him. We soon got started.

At first, it felt strange, but it soon felt pretty good. The paint started out a bit cold, especially since it was warm outside, but I got used to it. It was essentially another form of sensation/sensual play, which is my main overall kink. He painted on my chest, over my tits, and part of my stomach. It allowed me to relax knowing I was under trusted hands and good sensations. It tickled in more ways than one, but I wasn't as concerned with the potential sexual/kinky aspects (though I did consider touching myself a bit when I showered off after the painting). And the art itself turned out really pretty, too. After that, we cuddled and then got up to some less messy kinky times in his guest bedroom.

This whole thing was quite the experience. It made me feel good. It made me feel special. It was actually pretty fun. If I wasn't already catching feelings for C over the past year and change of reconnecting after my health crisis, I definitely started to then. It was definitely a big step in my burgeoning relationship with him and in my kink journey as a whole.

"When I care about someone, I paint them. This is not like my public painting scenes: no wig, no Bob Ross voice, no shtick. It's just the person, me, and whatever creativity inside me is dying to be shared with them. It's an embrace, not a performance I got to share that yesterday with [teababe27], who a very special person to me I am a lucky man" - C, when he posted the second pic on his Fetlife page