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samandcolbyownme · 10 months ago

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Summary: While at a party with friends, you run into your old 'situationship' and things take a turn for the.. good.. or bad? Find out in this weeks one shot!

Inspired by Zayn - Like I Would | not a request

Summary: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of smoking weed, alcohol consumption, cheating on partner (which you should NEVER do), secret and rough unprotected sex, oral (f rec), hair pulling, biting, scratching, teasing, just filth

Word count: 5.7 | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Have fun tonight." Your boyfriend, Theo, smiles, "Call me if you need a ride home."

You lean of the window, pecking his lips with yours, "I will, thank you." You smile and sit back, waving to him at your friend, Kya, backs out of the driveway.

"So." She says with a smirk as she starts to drive, "Seems to be going well, don't you think?"

You shrug, a light blush growing on your cheeks, "You can say that." You shrug, "I mean, these last few months, they've been great, but at the same ti-"

"Don't do that." She cuts you off as she shakes her head.

You look at her confused, "Don't do what?"

"Don't do what you always do. Don't look for things to escape. Theo is a great guy.." she lays her hand over her mouth, muffling her words, "Better than the last."

You laugh as you catch what she says, "Yeah, let's not talk about him." You roll your eyes, trying not to think about him, "Theo is a great guy."

"That - whatever that was.." she blows air, "Situationship.. was an absolute disaster." She tills her eyes, "If I see him, I might just punch him."

"Please. It might knock some common sense into him." You shake your head slightly, "He was just an asshole."

But he wasn't a total asshole the whole time.

You felt like there could have been more, should have been more, but he didn't want labels. He didn't want to 'settle down' as he said.

He treated you like a queen, but only when it was just the two of you.

When you confessed that you were catching feelings, mainly to try and save your feelings, which utterly failed in the end, he turned into someone you never thought he would be.

A ghost, figuratively that is.

You didn't hear from him for weeks after, but conveniently right when word got out that you were seeing Theo, you got a text from him, stating a single, ‘Hey’.

But you ignored it.

You had a good thing with Theo, but at the same time, you weren't feeling the passion, the heat, like you were with him.

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't pinpoint the exact reason as to why you were suddenly missing him, either.

Maybe because what you and him had was secret?

Maybe because it was mainly about sex, and he was really, really good at it?

Who knows, but you needed to get him off of your mind as soon as possible, especially because you want things to progress with Theo.

"Do you think he'll be here tonight?" You look over at Kya and she shrugs, "Doubt it. He's probably leading on some other bimbo-" she looks at you, quickly following up, "Not that you were or are a bimbo, I just-"

You hold your hand up, "I understand, Ky." You laugh slightly, "But I was for falling for him. I should have known."

"We live and we learn." She parks the car, "Now let's go have some fun." She raises her brows as she pulls the keys from the ignition.

You follow her in through the gate, eyes scanning over the slow growing party.

You smile as you see some of your friends, waving as you dance next to them as you move past to make your way into the house.

"You made it!" Leslie squeals as she runs up to you and Kya, "I'm so glad you're here!"

"Thanks for the invite! We love your parties." You smile and look around. She laughs, "Thanks. I love throwing them."

"I'm going to go get a drink, y/n. You coming?" Kya taps your arm and you look at her, "Yes, please."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A few drinks and bit of unwinding later, you're sat on the small couch in the corner with a few friends around you.

"Y/n." Leslie nudges your knee from the floor, "How's Theo?" She smirks and the others lean in to listen.

You smile, "We're good. He’s good.." You take a sip of your drink, almost spitting it back into your cup when you see him walk through the door.

"Shit." You whisper to yourself and quickly look around, composing yourself as fast as you can, "Yeah, he's taking me to dinner on Thursday for our five month anniversary."

"That's so sweet." Leslie smiles and lets out a sigh, "I remember when Chase and I first got together, that honeymoon phase never goes away when you're in love with someone you truly love being around everyday."

You kind of ignore them talking. Your focus was mainly on him. You watch as he walks over to the drink area with his friends, smiling that gorgeous smile and laughing that perfect laugh.

He was such a beautiful work of art, and knowing that you couldn't have it actually kind of hurt even more.

You snap back into reality, reminding yourself that you have Theo, and you really liked Theo.

Not as much as him - stop it.

You shake your head, looking over at Kya to try and figure out what they're talking about.

"Isn't that right, y/n?" Kya asks and you blink, "Sorry." You laugh, "What are we talking about?"

"Someone is feeling the alcohol already." She jokes with a laugh, "We were talking about that show that you recommended us. We all love it so far."

"Good Girls? Oh yes. That show is amazing. I'm sad they aren't coming out with another season, they left it with a cliffhanger and I'm still so mad about it." You laugh, taking a sip from your cup.

You finish your drink and rest your arms in your lap, "I'm going to get a drink, anyone else need one?"

"Yeah get me one please." Kya hands you her empty cup and you nod, "What were you drinking?"

"Just get me whatever you're drinking."

You nod and get up, walking over to the drink section. You pour in some liquor, more in your cup than Kya's, before adding some juice.

"Well, well, well."

You close your eyes, taking a quiet deep breath as you set the jug down onto the counter, "What do you want, Colby."

You stay facing away from him, knowing that if you look into his eyes, it'll all go downhill from there.

You tilt your head, thinking that maybe you should. Maybe now's your chance to finally give him a piece of your mind for hurting you.

"Just came to get another drink." He moves next to you and your eyes move over his hand that's rested on the counter as he pours some alcohol into his cup.

"So hey. What's up?" He turns and you look up at him. He chuckles as he takes a sip of his drink, "It's been a while, I know."

"Glad you're aware of that." You raise your brows, picking up the two cups.

"Alright.." he shrugs, ".. Talking about it really isn't my style, but I th-"

You cut him off, "No. no. I'm not.." you sigh, "I have a boyfriend now, Colby."

"I'm aware." Colby sips his drink, "How is Theo, by the way?"

"He's great, actually. I'm super happy with him." You cross your arms, cups still in hand and Colby raises his brows, "Glad to hear it."

You roll your eyes, "what do you really want Colby?" It doesn't occur to you that you already asked him that until it leaves your lips.

"I just thought I'd see what's up, but.." he walks over to you, "I'll just leave you to think about what I really want while I'm lighting up." He winks, taking a few steps away, stopping to turn, "If you still do that, you know where to find me."

"I stopped." You say loud enough for him to hear him. You turn, walking in the opposite direction, "Right when you broke my heart."

You walk back over to your group and Kya sighs, "I was about to send a search party for you. Jesus, I thought you got lost." She sips her drink, groaning as the alcohol touches her tongue, "So good."

"So what did I miss?" You lean back against the couch and look forward, immediately feeling your stomach flip when you see Colby sitting in the patio chair, directly outside of the glass door with the perfect view of you.

Fucking hell.

You pull your phone out, completely ignoring what the girls are filling you in on as you text Theo, Miss you. Wish you were here.

You rest your phone in your lap, crossing your one leg over the other, "No, I seen Janessa the other day, she definitely looked like she had a ring on her finger."

"See! I wasn't the only one!" Leslie says nudging the girl next to her, "Did it look like a big rock?"

You hold your hand out, rocking it back and forth, "Eh. It was a decent size."

Leslie sighs, "All that money and he couldn't afford a decent ring." She scoffs, "I swear if I don't have a big diamond on my hand when the time comes." She laughs, "Kidding. Kidding."

You laugh slightly, running a hand through your hair as your eyes move up to look at Colby again. His eyes are glued on you as he slowly brings the blunt to his lips, inhaling the smoke as he pulls it away.

You want to look away, but this obnoxiously strong hold he - still - has on you, won't allow it.

He tilts his head back, slowly allowing the smoke to leave his lips.

Your phone vibrates in your lap and you tear your eyes away to look down at it. You smile slightly as you read over Theo's text, Miss you too, baby. How's the party going?

You tap the screen, it's alright, just sitting with some friends, nothing too exciting.

You set your phone down, taking a drink. Kya moves in close to you, "I don't.." she clears her throat, lowing her voice to a whisper, "I don't mean to alarm you, but he's here."

"Who?" You play dumb.

She tilts her head, eyes moving in the direction of Colby, "Mr. Situationship." She mumbles through gritted teeth.

"Shut up." You act surprised, "Where?"

"Patio. Smoking with Sam and the others." She lays a hand on your knee, "Are you okay? Do you want to move? Leave? Whatever you want to do."

You lay your hand on hers, "Ky. I'm fine. Promise."

"If you say so." She mumbles moving away. Her attention is quickly taken away by the song that's playing, "Oh I love this song. Come on. Let's dance."

She finishes her drink, looking at you to finish yours. You down your drink, setting it down before standing up.

You couldn't lie, you were feeling pretty good and there was only one person you really wanted to be around right now - And it wasn't the person answering your texts.

Kya takes your hand, lifting them up as she moves her body to the song with a laugh, "I feel so.. happy right now."

"That's the alcohol, my love." You smirk and dance with her, laughing as she dances back to back with you.

Your eyes move to find Colby, who is still sitting on the patio, only this time, his view is blocked by the wall.

You turn away, dancing with Leslie.

For a few songs, you complete forgot about what you were feeling. You felt happy, free, like you can finally breathe for once.

You walk over to the couch, plopping down as you laugh, "I didn't know how much I needed this."

"You deserve it. You've been working hard these last few weeks, you need time to just relax, or take a few shots and party it up." Kya laughs and you sigh, "Is that you saying you want to take shots?"

"Yes!" She laughs, "Come on!"

You get up, following her to the counter. She sits out a few solo cups, only pouring a little bit of liquid in each before looking around to call over Leslie and the other girls.

You knew you were being watched.

You knew that what you wanted to do wasn't good.

But you wanted to get back at him, show him what he lost. Even though your little black dress does a lot, you still wanted to add to it.

"Here's to those who wish us well, all the rest can go to hell." Kya laughs and you all clink the plastic cups together before downing the shots.

"I know I'm working my way to being drunk because that didn't taste as bad as it usually does." Leslie laughs setting her cup down, "Hit us again, Ky."

Your eyes move from the cups, up across the living room scattered with people. But your eyes know who they're looking for, and they find him almost instantly.

Colby's sitting in the chair, calf rested on his other knee. He taps his cup on the arm rest, tilting his head, knowingly getting under your skin.

"It's cold hearted." You mouth to him subtly, hoping he'd pick it up.

And he did, because he mouths back, "what's cold hearted?"

You raise your finger off of the cup Kya gives you, directing it to him, "You."

You turn your attention back to the girls, sighing as you laugh at Leslie gives the cheers this time. You take your shot, closing your eyes as you breathe out, "You picked the strongest liquor?"

"Why not." Kya laughs and wraps her hand around your wrist, "Let's dance again."

"I have to go to the bathroom, but I'll find you after." You sit your cup down, watching as they push their way through the crowd to get to the center of the dance floor.

You laugh, shaking your head as you look around to find the bathroom. You frown, not knowing where they were so you walk up to a random person, "Excuse me.. do you know where the bathroom is?"

The girl smiles and nods, "Yeah, there's one down here, right over there." She points, "..and then there's another one upstairs, second or third door on the right I think."

You smile, "Thank you!"

She gives you another smile before you walk to the bathroom that's downstairs. You knock and there's a girls voice on the other side, "Give me a second."

You could hear giggling, from here and someone else. You sigh, knowing that it won't just be a minute. You turn around, making your way to the staircase.

You walk up, turning to the right and silently counting the doors in your head, "Please be open." You mumble as you bring your hand up to knock.

Before your knuckles can make contact, the door swings open and to your shock, Colby is standing there with a smirk on his face, "So we meet again. Nice."

"If I can just pee in peace, please. That would be nice." You cross your arms, nervous to make eye contact. Colby walks out, motioning to you that the bathroom is all yours.

"Can we talk when you're done?"

You stop closing the door and you look up at him, "Why?" He stares at you, "Because I have some things I want to say."

"Mm. I'll think about it." You close the door, locking it as soon as it latches shut. You rest your hands on the sink looking at yourself in the mirror.

"What am I doing?" You mouth weakly to yourself.

Seeing Colby again, has opening up a new feeling.

Or, reigniting past feelings.

You sit down to pee, mind racing as to what Colby wanted to talk about. You knew you couldn't be alone with him, that's just an ingredient to the disaster recipe.

As you stand up, moving over to wash your hands. As you stare at the water running over your hands, you smirk slightly as your mind starts to replay the last time you and Colby had sex.

You gasp quietly - Theo. You dry your hands, pulling out your phone to see texts from him.

That sounds exciting.

You alright?

I might fall asleep, but just call me if you need a ride home or not. I'll wake up. I promise.

Your slightly drunken heart sinks a little as you tap the screen, Sorry babe, I was dancing with Kya and Leslie. I'll call you when we're ready to leave.

You drop your phone back into your bag and give yourself one last look before opening the door.

Colby is still there, leaning up against the wall. He looks up at you and smiles.

You roll your eyes, "You're so fucking persistent."

"You weren't saying that a few months ago." He smirks and you shake your head, "Colby.." you pause, trying not to let your newly old feelings take over, "I have a boyfriend."

"I know, you've said that already.." He pushes himself off the wall and walks over, "A few times actually."

You shake your head, "It's late.. I need to go."

"Can we just- listen. I'm wired right now, and I just need - look, I know it's late, but I saw your face and got inspired t-"

"Inspired?" You laugh cutting him short, "What does that even mean?"

"Inspired to tell you how I really feel."

"About what?" You chew on the inside of your lip as you look up at him. He moves his finger back and forth from you to him and you nod slowly, "Right, right. But where was this when I told you I how I felt?"

"I wasn't.. I wasn't ready for something serious." He admits.

"You mean, you didn't want to be-" you put air quotes, "- tied down."

He looks at you, moving closer, "Look.. I-"

"Colby." You take a deep breath, batting his rising hand away from your face, "I can't.. do this."

"Do what, y/n?" He asks, tilting his head as he crosses his arms, "Come back to me?"

"I'm past that." You mumble, "I can't just.. I have a boyfriend, Colby."

"You keep saying." He nods, "I'm not asking to fuck. I'm asking to just talk to you. Let you know that seeing your face tonight completely changed how I- well, how I thought I felt about you."

You feel your heart thump in your chest as you don't know what to say. Your eyes search the floor as you sigh, "I have a boyfriend, I let what we had in the past go."

He purses his lips, "Did you?" He chuckles, "Because what you did down there..." he shrugs, "To me, that looked like you wanted my attention."

"I'm just having fun with my friends." You lie with a shrug, "Thats all."

"Well then.." he drops his hands, stepping back as he motions down the hall, "I guess you're good to go, then."

"Mm, like I said. Cold hearted." You go to walk away but he grabs your arm, pulling you back. You scoff and look up at him, pulling your arm away from him, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Look. Y/n. This is probably going to sound wrong, but just give me one minute .. I promise it won't last long."

You stare up at him, silently giving him a minute to talk.

He slowly moves his body closer to yours, "if we can't go back, you know, to the day that I just-"

"Ghosted me?" You ask raising your brows and he nods, "I just thought you'd like to know something."

You look up and back to him. You should just walk away. Go find Kya and call Theo, but it's like you're frozen in time.

Nothing matters right now but listening to what Colby has to say.

"What?" You slowly look up at him and a smirk toys with his lips, "I just thought you'd like to know that he won't touch you like I would."

You snap your head back, "what?"

He nods, backing you up slowly into the wall, hands on either side of your head, "He won't love you like I would."

"Does he know your body? Because I don't think he truly does." Colby's finger gently drags down over your collar bone and you close your eyes at the touch.

"He doesn't know your body, he don't do you right." He chuckles quietly as he tilts your chin up to force you to look at him, "He won't, he can't."

"You don't know him, Colby." You snap, "You know nothing about him."

Colby's eyes scan over your face, "I just know that he won't love you like I would." His thumb rubs over your bottom lip, smudging your lipstick slightly, "It's okay to want me."

"I ca-"

"Cause I want you." He cuts you off, "I know you've been thinking it over.. you can't lie about that. I know the way it ended wasn't the best, but when we were together, in bed or watching a movie.. it was good. So fucking good."

You tilt your head away, "But I'm through, Colby. I'm through with it. From what it seemed, you didn't want to give me what Theo wanted to. A possible future, public appearances. Fuck, Colby."

You lay your palms on your forehead, "Just. Stop. Stop waiting my time. Stop messing with my fucking head." You move your hands, looking up at him, "That's what I mean when I said you were cold hearted. You have no idea what you do to me."

You duck under his arm, walking towards the steps as you try and fix your smudged lipstick when you suddenly stop.

Your mind racing a mile a minute as you try not to give in to the bad things you know you shouldn't do.

"He won't touch you like I would."

"He won't love you like I would."

"He doesn't know your body, he don't do you right."

"I just know that he won't love you like I would."

You turn around, marching towards him, "where was this three, four months ago when I confessed my love for you? What's was all of this when I was ready to give everything to you?" You're standing so close to him you can smell the liquor on his breath, "Huh!?"

"I-I wasn't ready then."

"But you're ready now? Or ready when you seen that I was done being someone you can booty call at two am when you're lonely and want to get your dick wet. I see."

He stands there, looking down at you as you continue, "all of this.. he won't do this he can't do that like you could, what the fuck. What the actual fuck Colby."

"It's the truth." He shrugs, "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not lying about it." His hand brushes up your arm and your heads both snap to the stairs as you hear people coming up laughing.

He quickly pushes you against a door, opening it as he pushes you into it.

You stand there, watching as he closes it quickly and quietly, flipping the lock on the knob, "Does he know how much you like to be worshiped?"

You clench your jaw.

"Does he know about the little spot on your neck that you just absolutely love when his tongue runs over it?" He steps closer to you, "does he know that two fingers slipping slowly in and out of that pussy teases the ever loving shit out of you, but you love it so much you can't help but to just endure it?"

He walks over to you, "Does he know how much you love to be bent over, being fucked from behind as you get told how much of a good girl you are for taking him?"

He walks up, tilting your head up to look at him, "Does he know your coffee order? French vanilla with two cream, three sugar?"

You can feel your heart beating faster as your eyes begin to burn - colby did pay attention to you.

"Or what about the movie you can never get sick of? Does he watch that with you every time you come over just to see you smile and hear that beautiful laugh?"

"Do you want me to keep going?" He licks his lips, eyes bouncing between yours, "Tell me to stop, and I'll stop."

You say nothing, curious as to what else he has to say.

"Does he know what little things turn you on?" His hand slides down, slowly squeezing the front of your neck, "Does he know what you don't like?"

He tilts his head, "Your silence tells me that everything I need to know."

"What do you know exactly?" You ask quietly, eyes moving to look at him.

"Exactly what I said." He walks you back wards a few steps and you knees buckle as they hit the edge of the bed, "He don't touch you like I did. Know your body like I do. He doesn't love you like I did, like I do."

You sit down, Colby's hand still on your neck, "Like I said. Tell me to stop and I will." He leans in, slowly closing the space between you.

You rest your fingertips on his cheek, your breathing is rapid, "Colby.." Your voice is quiet, "I-I.."

You so badly want to say no, but you feel like you physically cant, "How do I know you're not just saying these things."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, his hand releases from your neck as he moves down to kneel in between your knees, "Why would I remember everything about you, the way you liked to be touch, a simple coffee order.. if I wasn't going to try and get you back?"

"All the months, the days that went by Colby.. I just.." you tilt your head back, the burn in your eyes returning.

"I- I loved you, Colby." You look at him, your hand moving to lay on the front of his neck. He tilts his head back, still maintaining eye contact with you as you squeeze slightly, "Why did you make me fall in love with you if you were just going to leave me?"

He places his hands on your cheeks, cupping your face, "I was scared. I was scared to open up completely to someone. The more time I spent with you, the more I let my fear get the best of me."

"You could have just told me that." You shake your head, "I don't.. I don't understand what made it so hard for you to-"

"I don't know either, okay." He says cutting you off, "But I'm telling you now. Right here." He pulls you in, his lips brushing against yours, "Right now."

You close your eyes, "But Theo.."

"Screw him, he doesn't know anything about you." Colby shakes his head, "But I know you."

You knew he was right.

You also knew that he knew what you wanted to do.

"Our situationship ended in a disaster, Colby." You laugh slightly as you look at him, "Maybe not for you. And then the whole, what was it, oh.." you roll your eyes, "yeah, the whole hey message right when it got out I was with Theo."

"I hated seeing you with someone else."

"Why?" Your eyes meet his and he rubs his thumb over your cheek, "Because I wanted you to be with me, you're made for me."

His words have an effect on you, and not the I'm lying just to get into your pants effect, but the so this is love effect.

"Do you want me to stop?" Colby asks quietly as he lays his hands on your thighs.

You lay your hands on his, "Are you going to ghost me again?"

"Never." He shakes his head, rubbing his fingers over your skin, "Never again."

You cup his cheeks as you spread your legs open slowly, "Prove it."

He's quick to act, pushing your dress up to lay around your hips as you lay back. You bring your legs up and his grips your thigh, using his other hand pull your panties to the side.

He leans in, pushing his tongue into you with a groan.

You gasp, eyes rolling back as you place a hand on his head. Your leg goes over his shoulder, pulling him closer.

You missed how good he made you feel, more importantly, you missed him.

"Colby." You moan out quietly as you look down at him. He locks eyes with yours, staring up at you as his tongue moves in and out.

He leans back, "I missed you so much." He moves up next to you, lying on his side as he leans down to kiss you.

His hand moves down your body as he gently rubs two fingers up and down your slit before slowly pushing them in.

You gasp, gripping the sheets of the random bed under you, "I missed you." Your hand goes to his cheek as his fingers move slow, doing what you love.

"What did you miss?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, "Hmm."

"You." Your breath shutters as he pushes his fingers in as far as they'll go, "Everything."

"Like what, darlin'?" Colby watches you, biting his lip as you roll your hips against his hand. You moan quietly, "all the ways.. you make me feel good."

"If you come back to me, I can do it everyday." He leans down, kissing down your neck, "Any time you want."

Your lips part as his tongue runs over the specific spot he mentioned, earning a gasp from you.

He smirks, "See, I know you."

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to your lips. You part them, eyes on his as your tongue swirls around them.

"You're so beautiful." He bites his lip, "Tasting yourself off my fingers."

You smile, tilting your head back. He grips your chin, leaning down to kiss you before standing up to shrug off his jean jacket.

You sit up, pulling the straps of your dress down your shoulders, "what are you layering up for winter or something?"

He chuckles, "I came here for one thing, and it wasn't to party." He winks as he pulls off his crew neck, "..so I wasn't really worried about dressing for it."

Your eyes scan over his bare torso, "What did you come here for?"

He chuckles, tilting his head as he slips his fingers into the band of his matching sweats, "I think you know."

"Do I?" You tease and he steps out of them, walking over to you. He leans down, moving his body over yours as you lay back, "Why don't I just show you."

Your lips part as the tip of his cock pushes up against you, "Don't be gentle."

"That was my next question." He smirks as he rests his arm under your knee, holding your leg up as he slides his cock into you.

Your brows furrow as your nails dig into his shoulder, "Fuck, fuck." You clench around him, earning a groan from his lips, "Fuck, I've missed how you feel around me."

He leans down, connecting his lips to yours as he slowly pulls out. He thrusts back in, quickly picking up a punishing pace.

He kisses down your neck, moaning into it as your nails drag up his back, "Colby.." you whimper, wrapping your other leg around his waist, "Fuck, fuck."

Colby bites your neck, sucking in a mark that you most likely find until later.

"You're made for me." He groans lowly, "You belong with me."

"I belong with you." You moan out as you lay your hand on his cheek, "I love you. I've always loved you."

His lips meet yours as his arm drops your leg, his hand moving to wrap around your neck, "You've always been such a good little slut for me."

You moan at his words, "always you."

He leans up, hands gripping your hips as he thrusts, "Fuck, fuck. Roll over for me." He pulls out and you push yourself over, moving your hips up.

"That's my girl." His hands run over your ass, sliding up to grip your hips as he moves behind you. He lines himself up, thrusting into you slowly as he leans down.

His lips plant kisses on your shoulder and across your upper back to the other, "I'm never letting you go again."

You grip the blanket, pulling as he pushes his cock into you. You whimper, pushing your hips back, "You feel so good."

Colby slides his hand up your back, making a pony tail of your hair take with his hand.

Your mouth opens, eyes rolling back as he pulls your head back more, "such a good girl." He starts to thrust, slow and hard, "Taking my cock so well again."

You moan, squeezing his cock as he brings you close to orgasm, "Close.. s-so close."

"Go on baby, show me how good I make you feel." Colby's voice is low, "Let me hear those pretty sounds."

A string of moans leaves by our lips as he pounds into you, guiding you through your high. His hand slips around, tightening around your neck, "that's it, baby."

He nips your ear, "So fucking good." He rests his forehead against your head, "You're gonna make me cum."

He leans up, bringing a hand down to smack on your ass. He runs his thumb over the forming red hand print, "Fuck, fuck."

He thrusts grow sloppy, quickly slowly down as you feel him twitch inside of you.

It's quiet, all but the sound of heavy breathing.

Colby finds something to clean up with, walking over to gently wipe you off, "Are you okay?" He helps you sit up and you smile, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I didn't mean with us.. I mean.." he purses his lips and your eyes go wide, "Oh fuck, Theo."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Thank you for reading! As always, let me know how you liked it!

Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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livwritesstuff · 4 months ago

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inspired by an absolutely insufferable boy-mom skit on tiktok

“I was wrong,” Steve announces as he enters the kitchen, “It would have been better to just go by myself.”

Eddie looks up, eyebrows furrowed, because – A) it's not exactly what he’d expected his husband to say first thing after arriving home from a day spent in the Berkshires at his coworker’s wedding, and B) Steve can be stubborn as a mule when he wants to be, and almost never admits defeat – not for dumb, petty shit, anyways, like how Steve almost didn’t go to the wedding at all because Eddie couldn't go with him until their oldest daughter Moe gallantly volunteered to attend in his wake.

(Which Steve had been goddamn thrilled about too, mostly because he’s hoping if Moe sees enough wedding propaganda, she’ll start thinking about popping the big question to her partner, Gray).

“Not a fun party, I take it?” Eddie asks.

“I had a great time,” Moe shrugs.

“Oh, I know,” Steve replies, “I know you had a damn fantastic afternoon.”

Steve has a tone, and it's the same tone he used when he found out Moe helped her friends password-protect all the Fox News Channels on their WASP-y mom's TVs, the same tone he used when Moe got kicked off the basketball team the same day she received an academic award from the school for having a 5.0 GPA (which, for the record, Eddie didn't even think was possible), the same tone he always uses when Moe stirs up her very specific flavor of trouble. Thing is though – Moe is twenty-three, and while she’s been a menace since day-one, she’s got a more than decent head on her shoulders and a fine-tuned sense of place and time. It’s not exactly like her to cause problems at something as important as a wedding – not without cause anyway.

“I think I’m, like, best friends with the bride now or something,” Moe is saying, and again, Eddie’s brow furrows as he looks back at Steve.

“Wasn’t your coworker the groom?” he asks.

“Yep,” Steve sighs, “Moe got into it with his mother.”

“Oh, god.”

“It had to be done,” Moe nods, “She wore a veil. She was openly complaining about how he danced with his wife – the bride – before he danced with her. She kept getting all worked up because her baby boy was leaving her. She needed to be stopped.”

Eddie had to keep a look of understanding off his face (in solidarity with Steve, obviously), because he’s been a certified girl-dad for over two decades now and he’s had his fair share of encounters with the dreaded boy-mom (a girl-dad’s natural enemy, he’s pretty sure).

“Hon, it was not your job to get involved,” Steve tiredly insists.

“I totally disagree,” Moe replies with another casual shrug, “The maid of honor was trying her best but she clearly needed help. And – I maintain that I pulled my punches. I could’ve spilled wine on her dress, but I didn’t. There’s only one rule at weddings and it’s don’t piss off the bride. The bride thanked me afterwards, so…it was fine.”

"You've got an interesting definition of fine," Steve tells her, "I really think there's an unspoken preserve the peace rule or something that wedding guests shouldn't start shit in the middle of the reception – especially not with anyone in the wedding party."

“Oh, what would you know?” Moe fires back, “You didn’t even have a wedding!”

“And even if we had,” Eddie comments idly, “there wouldn’t have been a mother-of-the-groom present to screw shit up. Hey – people get all up in arms over the bride’s mom and the groom’s mom. What about the dads?”

Moe shrugs.

“I think the bride’s dad was just happy they didn’t do the stupid garter thing,” she says, and she misses the way Eddie’s face falls, his eyes meeting Steve’s over Moe’s head to see he’s got a matching grimace on his face.

#steve is still traumatized from robin and nancy's wedding lol #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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ineylesian · 1 year ago

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MIGUEL’S GIRL.

PETER B. PARKER/ MIGUEL O’HARA X FEM! READER

— AO3 | NAVI

— WORD COUNT | 1k

— WARNINGS | smut, masturbation (m), voyeurism (??), majorrr jealously, kinda cheating but not really, dirty minded peter.

— SUMMARY | it should’ve been him, but it wasn’t. you were miguel’s girl.

— AUTHOR’S NOTE | remembered a cod fic inspired by jesse’s girl and had to bring it to atsv. also peter b parker is such bee keeping age 🤭 crazy for him

Being dragged into a different universe sucked.

Peter’s head was pounding, his back aching, growing stubble itching at his chin. His foot tapped as Mayday rocked around on his lap, babbling about something he wasn’t paying attention to.

“MJ and I are on the rocks again.”

Yeah. You paused at his answer, looking back with your mouth slightly ajar.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Your response was quick, tones of guilt ridden underneath. “Uhm- how old is May?”

“She’s one.”

He sighed, slotting his fingers against his upper jaw. You were rambling about how pretty she was— his daughter, eyes shining, lashes batting at her teasingly. It’s almost as if you’d totally forgotten about what had just happened.

He’d put it lightly. MJ had called it quits (for the 5th time this year) the night this whole ordeal started. She found out about your, as she called it, “little tango with Peter Parker”, which was years ago and frankly over. You didn’t need to know that, though.

“You want to hold her?”

You excitedly walked over, scooping Mayday— his daughter, into your arms. Peter watched as you swung her around, happily responding with her incoherent babbles with nonsense of your own.

It was years ago, when you and him were together. Nothing much became of it; you dropped in from another dimension, he was single.. and bored.

Nothing much, Peter sighed; he’d know you for merely a month. Fell for you in merely a month, too, recalling the way you’d broken his heart, and his yours, as you headed for home.

That mere month he knew you was perfect. You were the girl of his dreams, he’d thought he’d escaped that.

But damn, you still looked good. Especially with his kid in your arms.

“Peter.”

Shit. He shouldn’t be thinking like that.

“Peter.”

His eyes snapped open, looking up to see Miguel standing over him, Mayday held firmly in his hands.

“She needs to be changed.”

“You’re such a dad, el diablo.” You snickered, earning a glare from the man beside you. Miguel handed Mayday back to him before turning to you, effortlessly hoisting you onto his shoulder with a single arm. “His terrible jokes are rubbing off on you. I hate it.”

“Miguelllll.”

Your whine echoed down the halls, settling coldly in his ears as Miguel took you away. A frown had absentmindedly settled on his face the moment you disappeared, following him to the bathroom. The moment he looked into the mirror, he saw it, forcing him to smile down at Mayday as she tugged on his pant leg.

“Just my luck, huh, kiddo?”

Peter knew he’d heard this sound before.

“Miguel, what if people hear?”

You’d asked it, over, and over. You were always a cautious person, but you always gave in too quickly for your own good.

He’d also heard the same whine buzz from your throat. The same one you’d do when he’d leave hickeys on your neck. The same one that he’d do to you— except he wasn’t, Miguel was.

Shit. He could’ve picked any other hotel tonight. Any other that wouldn’t have him staring at the ceiling, listening to you get ruined by another man. Any other that wouldn’t possibly have Mayday waking up to the sound of his ex getting fucked in the room above him.

Just his luck, indeed.

Why was he bothered, anyway? You weren’t together anymore, that was in the past, completely. You didn’t love him anymore, and he had a kid with another woman. Albeit, a woman that he couldn’t stay with for more than two months at a time. And, you did look really nice holding May.

…shit.

Seconds passed. Your moans grew progressively louder. Peter could feel his face flush, deep, spreading erratically to other parts of his body. Every nerve in his system was struck, listening to you make noises like that— noises that only he should be pulling from you.

Before he knew it, Peter was palming himself through his suit, aggressively, listening intently as your voice began to run a little hoarse. Miguel must have already make you cum once, then. He imagined himself in that position, spreading the embarrassing amount of precum that had gathered at his tip along his skin as his hand slipped further underneath.

Peter could almost remember every detail from your nights together. He soaked in each reaction, how your face would scrunch up when he fingered you, the way your eyes would roll back when he bottomed out. Your chants and pleas of his name echoed faintly against the shabby motel walls, contrasting with his in a disturbing symphony.

“Miguel.. ah— Miguel— don’t stop…”

It should’ve been his name you were crying. Peter’s strokes grew faster as he tried to block Miguel’s name out, violently fisting himself at the thought of you under him, hot and streaking with tears of pleasure. He could nearly feel the soft curves of your thighs that he would gently trace, choking out a moan at the way you would look at him while he was lapping up your sobbing pussy.

It should’ve been him. Should’ve been you he fucked his kid into. The thought had him grounding his teeth into his bottom lip, eyes brimming with tears as his abdomen began to tighten. You were outright wailing now, begging Miguel to let you cum.

Peter imagined that you were whining his name, just as you did before, eyes glossy, lips swollen and puffy. You cried one last time as you came, and he felt his own cum leaking onto his hands, along with Miguel’s quiet praises. He swore, burying his head into the pillows when he began to console you.

It should’ve been him, but it wasn’t. You were Miguel’s girl.

In this universe, at least.

#arqhms #arqhmsthirst #arqhmsspring2023 #peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #peter b parker x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x you #across the spider verse x reader #across the spiderverse

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buttl0rd · 11 months ago

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I'm watching like a hawk for that new kid 🤲 THE BABY

ALRIGHT HERE HE IS!! lemme introduce you to the new kid 👉👉

this is carroway - he's the best 😎👽

this is gonna be a long post cause i have so much art and content to gush about. i love this kid 👇

Some fun character details:

he was originally supposed to be like the 90's movie tough bully kid but he's ended up just being a stupid asshole. he probably likes to think he's really cool and tough 💪

has 3 younger sisters, hates being outnumbered by girls

huge foodie and finishes whatever you don't eat. not fussy at all

always leaving his mittens outside. they get all wet and gross in the snow

affectionately ripping on everyone he loves. he's a total asshole but most people know he doesn't mean half the shit he says. the real ones tolerate him 😔🤙

he doesn’t know he’s bisexual (don’t tell him, he’ll find out on his own)

Hobbies & Interests

Aliens. Carroway is a firm believer in alien life and has an immense interest in UFO sightings, alien communication and all things outer-space. He often brags to his classmates that he has been abducted and probed, and is friends with the Martians that visit South Park sometimes (do any of them believe him?). He has a telescope that he set up in his friend Dante’s treehouse which he uses to spot UFOs in the night.

FUN FACT: His probe is linked with Cartman's. It's the connection that makes it possible for OCs to exist in the same universe as canon characters.

Drums. He has a drum set in his garage on which he practices every day after school. He has exceptional rhythm and is very talented. He keeps drumsticks in his backpack just in case he encounters a drumset or anything he can make a beat with (tables, benches, trashcans, etc.) Neighbors complain to his parents about the noise, so his garage is sound-proofed to the best of Mr. Carroway’s ability.

Snowboarding. Carroway goes snowboarding every few weeks. His family do snowboarding trips and he LOVES it. He also skateboards and rides his bike when he’s not up in the mountains, kid just likes to go fast. He dreams of being a professional snowboarder when he’s older.

TFBW: Boarderline

Boarder is a special flying support unit, part of Coon & Friends. He delivers high-impact quick attacks with his hoverboard and can heal/cure status conditions with his awesome space beams. As a speedster he utilizes the whole battlefield and is constantly moving, making him difficult to hit.

Origins:

He was a human that got abducted and genetically modified by Martians to serve and protect the alien race. After battling in many galactic wars he returned to his home in Colorado. His abilities were noticed by the superhero organization, Coon & Friends and Boarder was recruited to join their alliance. He provides support to Coon & Friends in battle.

Design:

Inspired by the gear he wears when he goes snowboarding.

His superhero costume consists of a white bodysuit with black tape accents and a big old metal zip. There's reflective blue strips on the gloves, boots and around the edge of his signature spaceboard. He's got these iconic space goggles that protect his face when he’s flying at the speed of light.

His name is a play on words - board (from his hoverboard) and borderline (being only just good enough for Coon & Friends). Allies call him Boarder for short.

SOT: Skullrogue

Skullrogue is Carroway’s Stick of Truth character.

He is a rogue-class unit and is quick and sneaky on the battlefield. He has a long black hooded cloak and a skull mask. His main weapon is a pair of daggers that are enchanted with flame magic. He cannot use magic himself but he is proficient with weapons, especially the daggers. He throws them and uses them to stab enemies in the back.

Skullrogue has an undisclosed edgy backstory, like any rogue player. He is mysterious and broody and so cool. He is loyal to the Wizard King and thinks Princess Kenny is hot.

Post-COVID

As a young adult, Carroway becomes a professional snowboarder and competes nationally in competitions. He becomes famous and earns a lot of money from his career, travelling the world for competitions. He makes it all the way to the Winter Olympics, representing the USA in the snowboarding category

After a career-ending injury in his mid-30's, he had to retire from snowboarding early and now lives off his sponsors and used-to-be-a-big-shot money. Despite being wealthy, he moved back to South Park and lives in a trailer (it’s easier than having a huge house).

He sometimes needs a walking aid to get around and is medicated for chronic back pain.

He was too busy with his career to find love when he was younger, so he stays single and lonely in his 40s. He still goes out and does sport events, commentaries and sponsorships - he remains famous even though he cannot compete anymore. He’s like a living legend in the winter sports community.

I'm still working on a PCOV design for him so stay tuned for that...

Anyway that's it for now!! I hope you love him 😘

#ask box #south park #south park oc #south park new kid #carroway #buttf(art)

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tkwrites · 5 months ago

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It Doesn't Matter Part I - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character

Summary: Nico and Lena have been friends ever since he played in Halifax. When an opportunity of a lifetime brings Lena to New York, Nico offers up his apartment as her home base despite the fact that he’s been painfully, desperately in love with her for the last six years.

Warnings: Slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, talks of masturbation, but nothing is described, Cliff hanger ending (I’m sorry, I had to!)

Word count: 7,300

Anonymous asked: I saw that you rebloged the Nico fic so I have to ask would you ever be open to write for him?, because the combination of your perfect writing and that sweet man, I would die for sure 😂

Comments: A thousand thanks to 🥭 Anon for requesting this fic! Nico has been such a fun, sweet character to write. I’m sorry for the cliffhanger ending, but I envisioned this fic in 3 parts, and this one had to end here. I hope you enjoy it!

If you liked this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

“You coming to the bar tonight?” Jesper asked.

“I can’t, I’m helping Lena move in.”

“Wait,” Jack said, barging his way into their conversation as per usual, “Lena, Lena? Like Lena from Halifax who you’ve been in love with since you were seventeen?”

Nico felt a blush flood his cheeks as he nodded.

“Moving in?”

“She’s coming to New York for an art program this year, so I told her she could stay with me.”

Jack stared at him, one of his eyebrows cocked up. “You’re sure that’s a good idea?”

Nico shook his head.

“No it’s not a good idea, or no you’re not sure?”

He shrugged. Hell if he knew. He was thrilled to have her close by but knew it would likely be torturous at the same time.

“Who is Lena?”

“She’s this girl he met when he was playing for the Mooseheads,” Jack explained. “You haven’t heard about her? He never shuts up about her.”

Blushing, Nico tossed an elbow pad in Jack’s direction.

“Did you stay with her family or something?”

“No,” Nico said. “She was friends with our goalie.”

“They’ve been besties ever since, and Nico still hasn’t grown the balls to ask her out.”

Nico glared at him.

“What?” Jack asked, shrugging. “You haven’t.”

“It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it? You like her. She’s single. You’re single. What’s the problem?”

“I don’t…” he broke off.

Keeping Lena as a friend was more important than the possibility of him spilling his feelings and risking losing her. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure she’d respond the way he wanted, and he was pretty certain he wouldn’t survive it if she turned him down.

“So, in the meantime, you’re just breaking up with every girl you’ve dated and overlooking every other woman because they don’t measure up, but you won’t ask her out, so you’re just pining full time.”

It was stunning, really, how he could talk so accurately about other peoples relationships without seeing the flaws in his own. Nico knew from experience not to bring Madeline up. In situations of talking about failure in relationships, Jack could dish all day long, but he could never quite take it if it was served back at him.

“Betty at 2:00,” Jack murmured. Watching a petite woman with light hair enter the bar. She had a pretty, heart shaped face and big, expressive eyes.

She turned around, laughing at whoever was following her. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear her, Jack knew her laugh was the kind that made other people want to laugh along.

Instead of the friend he expected, Nico stepped into the bar after her, looking a little punch drunk.

Jack nearly choked on his beer.

Well, shit.

If Lena was as funny and sweet as Nico made her out to be, Jack didn’t think he’d be able to move on from her either.

She said something to Nico, and he tore his gaze from her to look around the bar. Their eyes met, and he raised a hand in greeting. Jack waved back.

As they made their way closer, Jack realized her hair was actually light pink. And she had a nose ring: a delicate, jeweled thing hanging from her septum. Instead of calling up a resemblance to a hooked bull, like he usually thought those piercings looked, it made her face more lovely and interesting. The dainty diamond rested in the curve of her cupid's bow, emphasizing the shape of her top lip.

Lena felt herself smile upon walking up to the group of hockey players and their partners. She’d grown up with boys like this, and walking up to them was a bit like walking into her childhood.

“It’s Jack, right?” Lena asked. She’d seen photos of him from Nico and recognized him right away, along with Jesper, who was sitting on his other side.

“In the flesh. You must be Lena,” Jack said, standing up. He shot her a flirtatious, charming smile.

She couldn’t quite hide her eye roll, “he’s just as cheesy as you said,” she whispered to Nico, who was still standing off to her left.

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Nico pulled out a chair for her before settling into the one beside it.

God, even in this awful club lighting, she looked beautiful. The finer parts of her face were dulled in the dim, but everything he could see made him long for her.

Maybe Jack was right. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

“So, Lena,” Jesper said, leaning back in his chair, “what brings you to the city?”

“I got accepted into an intensive year-long art program at the New York Institute of Art. I’ve been applying for years, and they finally accepted me.”

“What kind of art do you do?” Dawson asked.

He’d wandered to the table as soon as they sat down, and Nico was talking himself down from moving to sit between them. Dawson wouldn’t stop looking at Lena like she’d just fallen from the moon, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed.

“I paint, but I do a lot of charcoal drawings and pastels, too.”

“Like the colors?”

She was used to this question and laughed indulgently at the confused expression on his face. “No, pastels are just pigment with a binder. It’s kind of like paint, but they’re not liquid.”

“She does amazing stuff,” Nico cut in, knowing she wouldn’t brag about her own work. He was happy to do it for her. “She did all the art in my apartment.”

The first time Lena had visited him, she was aghast at how little was on his walls. It made his whole house look like a hospital - too sterile and characterless. No wonder he was depressed when he wasn’t playing. His home looked like a place made for leaving.

So she’d painted for him. Ten canvases in total. Most were landscapes, but there was also a small abstract he always suspected was a kind of self portrait and a strange, dark, modern piece - swirls of color chasing each other across the canvas. When he asked about that one, she’d told him his games inspired it - blurs of black and red darting around the ice.

She’d even done a large landscape of the view from his childhood window, based on a photo he’d sent her several summers before. Rows and rows of misty roofs tucked into the base of the Alps as the mountains loomed over the town. Somehow, she managed to capture the safe, cocooned feeling of home.

Every time he looked at the painting where it hung, taking up nearly the whole wall opposite his bed, it eased some of his homesickness during the long seasons in New Jersey.

For months, a package he didn’t order would show up at his door, and he’d open it to reveal yet another piece of her to keep with him.

When the Naters painting arrived, he’d called her practically in tears. She told him she knew he missed home and hoped it would bring a little bit of home to Jersey.

He forced her to accept repayment for shipping such a large canvas and made her promise to let him pay if she was sending any more. Instead, she’d brought an additional four with her on her next visit.

Dawson looked even more enamored as he said, “that stuff is really good!”

Nico couldn’t remember Dawson taking any particular interest in the art when he’d been at his house before. Jack had noticed it, which had spurred the conversation about Lena in the first place.

She offered him a thankful smile that Nico was pleased to see, was void of any flirtation.

They had a drink a piece before she began to yawn. Nico wasn’t surprised. She’d driven from Halifax to Maine the day before and then from Maine to New Jersey that morning. He’d helped her unload her things before she insisted they come to the kickoff party.

“I’m really sorry,” she apologized, covering her mouth.

“You’ve had a long day,” Dawson said, encouraging, “you should go get some sleep.”

She smiled indulgently at him before standing from the table. She really was exhausted. Plus alcohol always made her sleepy.

When they got home, Lena asked, “Do you mind if I let cookie out?”

He shook his head, going to the kitchen to get some water.

A few minutes later, her light orange tabby cat came skulking into the kitchen, eyeing everything suspiciously. When they made eye contact, Cookie narrowed his eyes as he stalked over.

After sniffing his socks, he seemed to decide he was the same person he’d always been and rubbed his face on Nicos leg.

Walking into the kitchen, Lena heard Nico murmuring in German. As always, it made her stomach twist a little. She’d known him for six years, and it wasn’t that she forgot he was from Switzerland so much as she forgot how sexy his voice sounded speaking the language he’d grown up with. Even with her limited understanding of German, she got the distinct impression he sounded more like himself than when he spoke English.

Rounding the kitchen island, she expected to find him crouched down, talking to one of his siblings on the phone while digging something out of a low drawer. Instead, his phone was nowhere to be found, and he was speaking to Cookie, who had flopped onto his side, happy to be receiving pets.

“Oh,” she said before she could stop herself. The sight of Nico loving on her cat made her heart thunk into her ribs.

This, right here, is why she originally told him she was staying in the city.

He had insisted there was no reason she needed to spend the money when he was right across the river. When she’d hesitated, he played his ace, bribing her with Cookie. “You can bring him, and both of you can stay,” he’d said, “you wouldn’t have to leave him with your parents.”

Even though she knew it would suck to be around him all the time, knowing he didn’t have any interest in her, she’d caved right away.

The problem with Nico was that he was just so damn sweet. He did everything from the bottom of his heart and was genuinely happy to help. As soon as she managed to convince herself she didn’t love him, he would go and do something like insist she stay with him not only for finances, but because she wouldn’t have to leave her cat behind, and feeling would swoop into her heart again.

This was her last undoing for the night. Not only had she watched him carry her things into his apartment, his hockey-hardened body taking the brunt of the weight with ease, she’d had to listen to him laugh and tease while he flashed his dimples at her all day. And now, he was sweet talking her cat in German.

God, how was she going to survive this?

Nico’s eyes darted up at her noise. He hadn’t heard her come in. She’d pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, but a few of the shorter pieces had escaped, falling around her face.

Throughout the time he’d known her, her hair had been many different colors. When they met, it had been blonde, then ginger, then purple, then blue. She dyed it back to her natural ashy blonde for a while before going to this pastel pink she’d been maintaining for the last two years. When he asked her why she’d kept it for so long, she said, “I don’t know, it just looks like me.”

He had to agree. It looked incredible on her, making her skin warm and her hazel eyes bright.

Wanting yawned in his stomach, and he tore his eyes away before she could see the lovesick expression Jack teased was written all over his face whenever he looked at her.

“I’m glad to see he’s making himself at home,” Lena said, laughing.

“He’s sweet,” Nico said, standing. “I thought you’d be in bed.”

“I wanted to say thanks again,” she said, stepping forward to hug him.

As his arms wound around her waist, Nico allowed himself a moment of fantasy, imagining she wouldn’t be going to her own room when they turned in for the night. He couldn’t stop his mind from continuing down the fantastical road that living together might be the thing that finally got them from friends over the hill to lovers.

“I’m happy to have you here,” he said when the fantasy had run its course, and he came back to reality.

Cookie meowed as if upset at being left out.

She broke away with a laugh and bent to gather him into her arms.

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to brush a kiss over his cheek.

Nico felt himself go still as stone. He couldn’t remember if she’d ever done that before.

“G’night.”

“Gute nacht,” he responded, barely holding himself back from waving as his mind was still caught on trying to process the fact that she’d actually kissed him. On the cheek, but still, her lips had been soft and warm, especially against the hard contrast of her nose ring.

He watched her disappear down the hall before he smacked a hand to his forehead. “Gute nacht,” he mocked himself. “You couldn’t think of anything better to say?”

He was a fool for thinking this was going to work.

The next thing he had never expected when he invited her to move in came the following morning.

Lena hadn’t stayed with Nico in his new place before. She couldn’t have. He upgraded to renting the three bedroom apartment in their building when it was finally settled that she would be living with him. That way, he still had a spare room for when family or friends came in town.

The day previous, she’d picked the room closer to his. Had he known — had he thought about it, he would have suggested she take the other one. He could have made up some bullshit excuse about how he didn’t want his snoring to keep her up at night.

Had he been thinking clearly, he would have noticed that her ensuite bathroom shared a wall with his bedroom. The very wall his headboard sat against.

As it was now, Lena, always the early riser, was in the shower. Right on the other side of the wall.

Waking up to the water drumming into the tile, it took him a moment to place the sound. Only when it shifted, quieting and changing rhythm did he realize what was happening - she’d stepped under the water.

With a sudden jolt, Nico realized that his headboard, some paint, sheetrock, a jumble of studs, and a few dozen white subway tiles were the only things separating him from her naked form.

The idea of it assaulted his senses until he was half hard and couldn’t think of anything else.

Cursing, he pulled a pillow over his face and groaned loudly. He couldn’t ask her to move now. He would have to explain why, and he wouldn’t be caught dead telling her he needed her to move because he couldn’t get the image of her naked, water trailing off her hair, dripping onto her breasts and pooling around her feet, out of his mind.

He groaned into his pillowcase again.

This went on for a few more minutes before the water changed again, increasing in pressure and beating a staccato rhythm against the tile. A second later, he heard the water shift and change again as well as a gentle thud, as if she’d fallen against the wall.

Knowing exactly what that meant, he vaulted out of bed, rushing to his own bathroom. He would not jack off to the sound of her in the shower. That was a step too far, but if he let his imagination run, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself. He’d thought of her many, many times while getting himself off over the years, but doing it while she was in his house, very likely getting herself off, felt like a step too far.

Cold water shocked him back into his senses, and he didn’t let himself think about it anymore.

Lena stepped out of the shower, feeling much better. Not only did she feel more rested, she was finally able to release some of the sexual frustration that had settled on her like a heavy blanket since arriving. She would have done it the night before, but showering was always part of her morning routine, and in the rush of moving and getting to the bar to meet Nicos team mates, she hadn’t fully unpacked, and couldn’t find her vibrator. She’d tried with her fingers, but it just didn’t work the same way. When she finally fell asleep, she was still feeling frustrated and needy.

After dressing and putting some dry shampoo in her hair, she walked into the kitchen only to find Nico scooping freshly ground coffee beans into the coffee maker, wearing nothing more than a towel. His hair was still wet, and she watched a rivulet of water wind its way down his back, all the way to the dimples at the base of his spine. Wanting sparked to life between her thighs again. So much for easing the sexual frustration.

“Morning,” she made herself say, refusing to be the creepy one watching him shirtless, core throbbing at the thought of him.

Nico jumped, and his hand snagged the towel around his waist before it fell. He thought he had more time. He wouldn’t have come out here in only a towel if he thought she would be out soon. He just wanted to have coffee made for her.

“I thought you were still in the shower,” he said by way of explanation.

“How did you know I was in the shower?”

“It’s right on the other side of my bedroom wall,” he informed her, trying to keep the guilt out of his voice.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Oh,” she said, hoping beyond hope the sound of the water had drowned out the accidental, desperate way she’d moaned his name when her climax finally hit.

She had to find her vibrator. Maybe she’d pick one up in the city, just in case. She couldn’t be getting herself off in the shower anymore. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Knowing he was on the other side of the wall would shrivel her sex drive like a dried out bean pod. There was no way she could get off to thinking about him, knowing he might be able to hear her, and then she would just be even more frustrated. It didn’t matter if she might find her vibrator unpacking later that day, she decided, she was getting one in the city. Better safe than sorry.

Pushing that idea away to think about later, she accepted the mug of coffee he held out to her.

“Oat milk, right?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her showers proximity to his bed. “I found this pistachio kind I thought you might like,” he said, rifling in the fridge with one hand, the other still clasping his towel. He needed to pull it tighter but couldn’t with her in the room. At least the cool air was calming his flushed cheeks.

And just like that, the sweetness that was Nico Hischier burrowed its way into her heart again, easing some of the lust back into love. It was incredible how being seen made her feel. Not only with eyes but with words and actions to follow them up.

No wonder every man she’d dated in the last six years paled in comparison. Nico set an impossible standard for other men to meet.

And that wasn’t even taking into account the fact that he had the body of a god and the most empathetic, earnest brown eyes she’d ever seen.

They never even stood a chance.

He found the creamer he’d picked up the last time he was at the grocery. Lena loved all things pistachio, and when he’d seen the non-dairy creamer, he’d automatically put it in his basket for her to try once she got here.

When he turned to her, he had to push away thoughts of kissing her that often came up when he saw her smile the way she was now.

Setting the creamer down, he mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” before practically running to his bedroom. He threw on some shorts and a T-shirt. Coming back in, he found her sitting at the table, looking at her phone as she lifted the coffee mug to her lips.

“What are you up to today?”

“I’m going into the city. Find the best subway route to the academy, find my classes, that kind of thing.” Her courses didn’t start for another few days, but Lena knew she would feel better having explored first.

“If you can wait till I’m done with practice, I can come with you,” he offered.

Even as he kept his expression neutral, she could hear the undertone of unease in his voice.

“Nico, I’m going to be going out there by myself every day.”

“But you don’t have to do it alone the first time.”

It wasn’t like he knew the way any better. Lena knew for a fact that he didn’t take to wandering around the city for fun, and if he did, he drove in or took an Uber. Plus, she wouldn’t be able to get her vibrator if he came with her. She didn’t like thinking about the pity she’d find in his face at her inability to find a man to fulfill those needs for her.

“It’s not the first time. I’ve lived in the city before.”

“For three months when you were twenty,” he reminded.

“Exactly. It’s not my first rodeo.”

He never understood that expression. He’d seen a rodeo, and it didn’t seem like the kind of thing someone could grasp after doing it once. It was just another American idiom that always went over his head.

“Nico, I’ll be fine,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I have you on speed dial if I get stuck somewhere, okay?”

Biting his lip, he tamped down the overprotectiveness rearing up inside him. Lena was smart. She didn’t get herself into trouble. But she was also so pretty, and some men were dogs.

The look on her face, defiant and determined told him exactly how this was going to end.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “But you’ll call me if you get lost?”

“Yes. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

Nico threw himself into practice. Hockey always managed to clear his mind when he was stressed. Even the sound of it - skates scraping the ice, pucks thwacking into sticks and the simpleness of communication - made everything else slip into focus. He didn’t have to worry about being an idiot or saying the wrong thing. He demanded the puck when he needed it and tried to get it into the net.

Practice was a reprieve from the stress of life. Of all life, all the time. But especially then with Lena in his house. He could skate her out of his mind and focus on simpler things.

Jonas came up to his stall as he was getting out of his gear.

“Can I still come get my box?”

It took a moment for Nico to remember. He’d had left his gaming console at his house a few days ago. “Yeah.”

When they walked into the house, he found Cookie, right at home, stretched out over the back of the sofa in a sunbeam.

“Since when do you have a cat? I didn’t think you liked cats.” Jonas asked.

“He’s Lenas,” Nico corrected. Jonas raised an eyebrow, which Nico chose to ignore. “And I don’t dislike cats. Cookie is sweet.”

“Cookie?” he repeated. “She named her cat Cookie?”

“Apparently she had a stuffed animal that looked like him named Cookie when she was little,” he explained with a shrug, trailing a hand over the cats silky fur.

Cookie trilled at him and arched his back for more pets.

The door opened behind them, and Lena herself walked into the apartment, flushed from her walk from the station in the cool autumn air.

Nico tore his eyes away from her before Jonas could give him another raised eyebrow at the look he knew was all over his face.

“Hey, Lena,” Jonas greeted.

“Hey Jonas,” she said with a big smile, giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

They’d met in Switzerland a few months before when Lena had come after a trip to Italy with some friends. Her friends had gone home, and she’d caught a train to Bern to spend a few days with him before she had to get back to Canada. It was then that he’d learned about her acceptance into the academy and suggested she should stay with him.

After she went out and about with Nina, and he finished with training, they had all gone out for dinner and drinks at his favorite place, Tramdepot. Jonas’s girlfriend, Nola, was out of town, and had Nico not known she existed and that Jonas was head over heels for her, he would have been sorely tempted to end the night early so he and Lena would have to stop talking.

“You can’t be jealous if you’re never going to ask her out,” Nina had admonished him on the way home.

Knowing Lena didn’t speak German allowed him to be open and honest with his sister, even as Lena walked in front of them.

“She doesn’t date hockey players.”

Nina gave him a wry look, “she told you that?”

“No, she told her friend, Jessica. I overheard them.”

“What exactly did she say?” Nina asked.

“She said, ‘I don’t date hockey players.’ And then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’”

“And she said?” Nina prompted.

“She said it doesn’t matter.”

“I think you should still talk to her.”

“She said it doesn’t matter, Nina,” he said, and there had been an embarrassing amount of whining pain in his voice.

Nina bit her lip, glancing at Lena, who was walking next to Jonas, asking something about the architecture.

“I can’t ��” his voice had almost broken, “I can’t.” He couldn’t even get the words out.

He was in love with Lena. He knew that. And it was wonderful and painful and awful all at the same time. But the thought of asking her and having her say no - the thought of asking her and it changing their friendship forever? That was worse than the bitter, lovely pain of being in unrequited love. The idea of losing her was worse than knowing he would never have her in that way.

“Well, I should get going,” Jonas said, gesturing with the playstation and bringing Nico back to the present.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Lena said, offering him another hug.

After Jonas left, Nico followed her to her room, leaning in the doorway. There were still boxes around, and he noticed a pile of clothes on the floor that she'd obviously pulled out of a box in search of her outfit for the day. He willed his eyes to skip over something lacy and green.

“How was it?”

“Fine,” she said, setting her tote bag carefully on the bed, making sure it wouldn’t tip over. On top of the vibrator, she’d bought lingerie. Not that she had anyone to wear it for. But the pink set had been on display and matched her hair. She’d asked to try it on on a whim and found she couldn’t leave it behind. Even if it was just for herself, the lace and mesh balconette bra and matching panties made her feel pretty and sexy. So what if no one else ever saw them? She’d know they were there, and that was enough.

All the same, she didn’t want Nico to see it. The thought of him knowing she’d bought lingerie when he knew she didn’t have anyone to show it off for made heat race to the surface of her skin.

When it wouldn’t stay upright, she tipped the bag gently, resting it against her pillows so nothing would spill out.

“Just fine?” he asked, worry edging into his tone.

“It was good,” she said, turning around. “I found everything fine. I only went three stops in the wrong direction once. My advisor seems nice, and all my classes are right in the academy, so I won’t get lost.” Walking from the room, she changed the subject, “how was practice?”

“Good,” he dragged a hand down his face, “I think we’re finally starting to gel as a team.”

“That’s great, Nico.”

“I hope it comes together before we head to Carolina.”

“I’m sure it will. If you’re already seeing that now, it’ll only get better in a week, right?”

He smiled, glad to have her sweet reassurance around. Though she never played hockey - “You would not want to see me on skates. I’m the most uncoordinated disaster of a baby gazelle you’ve ever seen.” - she’d grown up with siblings and friends who play and had a thorough understanding of the game and what it took to win.

That first month living with her was an awkward dance. When his first road trip came around, it was a relief to get away. He could finally breathe easy, not worried about turning any corner to find her being unassumingly lovely in some new area of the apartment.

But by the second night away, he found himself missing her and missing their evening routine of sipping tea while watching TV. She never complained when he pulled up one of his brothers games or something else Swiss as long as the subtitles were on, and he’d gotten way too sucked in to the ridiculous reality TV show she loved about couples living in a villa together, searching for love.

That second night, when missing her had settled into his chest in a way he hadn’t yet experienced, he almost turned it on for he and Jonas to watch before bed, just to get some comfort of home back. Instead, he’d tossed the remote to Jonas. Lena said she’d wait to watch it with him when he came back, and he didn’t want to let her down. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure he wanted Jonas knowing he enjoyed such trashy shit.

He missed the steadiness of her presence. He’d gotten so used to living alone, he’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone else in the house. She was always there if he needed a little comfort, offering a hug or a listening ear, or a back rub.

After he got home, they fell into a comfortable routine, weaving in and out of each other's lives. They would have coffee at the start of each day before she left for classes, and he left for practice.

In the afternoon, she worked on her art in the living room, and he liked to watch her paint or draw, silhouetted against the large window, if she was still there after he’d taken his nap.

She cooked dinner most nights. She wasn’t a chef by any means, but she enjoyed cooking, and he was always appreciative, even when something was burned. Plus, she owed him. The money he saved her by not having to pay for housing for a year wasn’t insubstantial. Cooking was a small way she could pay him back on the few nights he was home each week. She’d even made his favorite meal the day after a hard loss.

He gave her the cold he caught on their second trip. Something, he was sure, he got from Haula’s kids, and they were miserable together for a few days. He woke to her showering in the middle of the night more than once as she tried to clear her sinuses.

When Halloween came around, he asked if she wanted to go to the team party with him. It was the first time since he’d come to New Jersey he didn’t have to come up with a costume by himself or do something with one of his teammates. He’d had girlfriends before, most of them from Switzerland, but no one who was able to make it to the party.

They spent one of his off weekends figuring out what to wear. Lena was worried about giving people the wrong idea and shot down most of the suggestions that came up on her web search as they were all suited for couples.

Every time someone asked how long they had been dating, it was like being jabbed with a hot poker; pointing out everything she wanted but didn’t have.

In the end, they decided to go as people who had been stranded in the desert. She panted their cheeks to look sunburned and put dyed baby powder in their hair and eyebrows to mimic sand. They wore ripped, tan clothing and carried empty canteens.

When she’d come out of her room, he swore his heart nearly stopped upon seeing the open, artfully dirty button up shirt she wore tied over a tan colored bra. He’d seen her in a swimsuit before, so in theory, he’d seen this much of her skin, but this seemed more intimate than a bathing suit.

It sparked a new wave of longing in him.

More than once, Jack gave him an exasperated look when he caught Nico staring at her as she talked with the WAGs. He was obsessing over all the little details of her costume. The way one of her shredded khaki pant legs was higher than the other, showing the tattoo of a paintbrush crossed with a pencil on the inside of her right ankle, the stripe of her smooth low back visible between her shirt and pants, and of course, the flash of her cleavage anytime she turned toward him.

“You’re gonna have to make it happen, man,” he said, passing by to get another drink.

It took almost six weeks, but he got used to her fresh faced beauty being around all the time. It didn’t dull necessarily, but like living in a beautiful place, eventually, the beauty fades into the background until the lighting changes and everything is suddenly new and breathtaking again. While she was around all the time, it grew easier for him to push aside.

On a Saturday in early November, he came home from practice to hear her humming somewhere in the apartment. She wasn’t in the living room - in fact, her drop cloth and easel hadn’t even been set up.

Opening his mouth to call for her, his greeting died in his throat when he walked into the kitchen. She was in a tight, pink t-shirt, a matching pair of little boy short underwear and nothing else. His eyes were immediately drawn to the round swells of her ass peeking out from under the material.

He couldn’t look away. Even knowing he should say something, so she didn’t think he was just creepily watching her didn’t help him.

Forget looking like a creep. He was never forgetting this as long as he lived.

Lena turned around and jumped. Nico was standing in the kitchen doorway, mouth slightly agape. He’d been quiet as a mouse, and the shock of his sudden appearance sent her sandwich diving off the plate. It opened on its descent and splatted onto the dark tile, meat and condiment side down - because, of course, it did.

She swore, and it snapped Nico out of his reverie. He dropped to his knees to help clean it up.

As she knelt next to him with a wet rag to wipe the butter off the tile, her bare knee slid into his field of vision.

“I’m sorry I didn't say anything,” he said emphatically, feeling himself blush as he kept his eyes trained on the floor so they wouldn’t travel up the creamy expanse of her thigh.

Shaking her head, Lena stood, hoping he didn’t notice she’d practically turned the same shade as her shirt, “I’m sorry about this,” she said, gesturing to her legs. Of course he had to come home when she wasn’t wearing any pants. The shirt and panties had arrived that morning, and she had been trying them on when she decided to make a sandwich.

Nico looked up and felt his jaw go slack. Somehow, he managed to keep it from falling open. He could clearly see the slope of her breasts and a stripe of her stomach where the shirt didn't quite reach her underwear. He inexplicably wanted to bite the curve of her inner thigh.

He could only blink several times before he managed to look away. Made new in the harsh light of the kitchen, wanting her took over his thoughts, turning him into a bumbling idiot once again.

God, what wouldn’t he give to worship her any way she would let him?

“I didn’t think you were coming home until later. I would have put on pants.”

The fact that she apparently often didn’t wear pants when he wasn’t home burrowed into his brain to torture him later.

He managed to make some kind of noncommittal noise and stood up.

Lena scurried to her room, grateful that, at least, she had this new set on, and not a pair of ratty old undies.

She wished she could forget the shocked look on his face when he looked up at her from his knees. She’d envisioned him on his knees before her so many times, but none of those fantasies involved him staring open mouthed at her thighs.

A week later, as they were watching Love Island, Lena asked a question she never thought she would have to.

“When’s your next night off at home?”

Nico pulled up his calendar app, and flipped through the days, “Thursday.”

“Oh.”

“What’s up?” he asked, setting his phone on the side table.

“I…” Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip.

“What?” he asked, feeling nervous. She was going to tell him she started dating someone, wasn’t she? That she’d met someone while he’d been out of town. The prospect of it roiled in his stomach.

“I thought I had more time,” she said.

His fantasized dilemma fractured a little. “More time for what?”

She took in a calming, deep breath, looking up at the ceiling so she didn’t have to look at his face when she said it. “I need to — I need to do a nude study for my figure class.”

“So? You’ve done nude studies before,” he reminded, thinking about the sketches he’d seen in her portfolio. Part of this intensive training was figure drawing, which he knew she didn’t enjoy, but everything he’d seen looked near perfect to him. Smooth, curved lines, and strong, handsome faces. He didn’t understand what she was so worried about.

Professor Brown’s consistent feedback was that her drawings looked too one dimensional, that she wasn’t capturing the living essence of her subjects. She assured the class that, though it would be awkward, their art would be better when they could no longer pretend the person in front of them was a sculpture. The surefire way to do that? Take away the emotional distance between the artist and their model.

“Yeah, but those were with people I’d never met. My professor wants us to do a study with someone we know…preferably of the opposite gender. She said it would make the art more intimate.” Daring to meet his eyes, Lena felt a blush scorch her skin.

Understanding sparked in his face, and she watched his eyes widen.

“You want me to be your nude model?”

She licked her lips, “I thought about asking Jesper to do it, but that didn’t seem right.”

“Why Jes?” he asked, barely keeping the flair of emotion out of his voice. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. Not only was his love for her unrequited, she would be more comfortable sketching one of his teammates. One of his engaged teammates.

“I don’t know. I feel like he wouldn’t be weird about it since the swedes are always so,” she gestured to her own body, “open. But it felt too… intimate when he has Nicole and we’re…us,” she finished lamely, finally daring to look into his face.

His heart leapt into his throat.

We’re us? What did that mean? What was us? They were friends? She wanted something more than friendship? Hope reignited in his chest for the millionth time.

He cleared his throat, hoping she couldn’t hear his heart hammering. “What would -” he had to pause to clear his throat again. “What would it involve?”

“You’d just need to sit or stand for a few hours while I do some sketches.”

“Naked?” he asked, his voice squeaking over the word despite his attempts to stay cool, “or could I wear my boxers?”

“I need to turn in six sketches, but at least half of them need to be nude, so you would only need to be naked for part of it.”

He didn’t respond right away, trying to sort out and understand his own racing thoughts.

She nibbled at her lip, “I know it’s kind of a lot to ask.”

There were so many reasons he wanted to say no, but despite all that, Nico still found himself nodding. He could never say no to her, even if it meant he had to pose naked for her to sketch.

She felt her cheeks flush again. The thought of seeing him this way had nixed the idea of Jesper from her mind. She didn’t want to sketch his thighs, even if it would be less awkward than sketching Nico. She might never get the chance to see him naked in a romantic setting, so, selfishly, she was seizing the opportunity while she had it.

“Has to be Thursday?” he asked.

“Well, sometime in the next week,” she said. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I can ask Jesper.”

“It’s not that,” he said. Too quick, too desperate. If she asked Jesper, it would get around the locker room like wildfire that she’d asked him instead of Nico and on top of not wanting to let her down, he couldn’t take the chirping that would come from that. “It’s just fast.”

“Do you have another day off?”

He swiped through his calendar again and shook his head. “We leave for six days after the game on Friday.”

Her lips pursed together. The flush that was glowing on her cheeks made him smile. At least she was just as nervous as he was.

“Do you need me to do anything before? Shave or…anything?” he asked, gesturing to his chest.

She hadn't even thought about it. From what she remembered, Nico didn't have a huge amount of chest hair anyway.

She'd known going into this conversation that it would end with at least a fifty percent chance he’d say yes, but when he asked about shaving, it struck her suddenly and completely that she really was about to see him naked.

“Nothing you wouldn’t normally do,” she squeaked.

Nico felt himself smile. If she was going to be this flustered the whole time, maybe this wouldn’t be half bad.

It Doesn't Matter:

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thewritingbeforesunrise · 6 months ago

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Love On My Fingers, Lust On My Tongue.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

A/N: This story is totally self-indulgent and was inspired by one specific line from the fic Wild Child, written by the lovely and immensely talented @writingcold. If you haven't already, go check it out, you won't regret it, believe me😉

I really hope you like this one. It's been ages since I last indulged in writing this kind of fics.

Special thanks to @edgingthedarkness for suggesting this delicious gif!

Join my taglist here.

Word count: 6K

Pairing: Jake x female!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, handjobs, oral (m!receiving), use of toys, anal play, pegging.

Summary: Coming home late from work, you decide to skip dinner to better savour dessert.

________________________________

Winter really didn't seem to let the warm rays of spring sunshine free to dissolve its icy tentacles.

Snow kept falling for the entire day without a pause but your boss was adamant in his decision of not letting you go home early. That bastard.

You were angry, freezing and starving and you couldn't wait to finally go home, shower, inhale dinner, bury yourself under at least three blankets and cocoon in Jake’s warm embrace.

He was lucky. He was home from tour and still asleep when you had left for work. You had been thinking about him the whole day. You envied and longed for him at the same time.

When it was finally 5pm, you clocked out and reached your car as quickly as possible, while trying not to break your neck slipping on the copious snow on the pavement.

After pushing the snow off the windshield, your gloves were soaked and your boots were full of icy snow slowly melting in your socks.

You felt anger increase in your chest as a passing car hit a puddle and soaked your jeans. You were about to flip them the bird and send them to hell but karma took the matter into its own hands before you could, sending the way-to-fast proceeding car to spin out in the middle of the road. Thank God there was no-one else there or it would have caused a big accident.

You were about to go check if they were alright when they drove off.

You climbed in your car and turned the heat at maximum level.

When finally you started to feel your own hands again, you took the road and started driving home.

But unfortunately not for long.

Traffic was always bad in your town but when snow was involved it was a proper nightmare.

You were proceeding so slowly that it was a miracle if you could be home in two hours time.

You phoned Jake and told him you were basically trapped on the road home.

He reassured you that he would cook for you and run you a hot bath for when you would be home.

You thanked him profusely. Mentally you were already home with him.

After an hour or so, the traffic jam went down unexpectedly and you found yourself pulling up your driveway much sooner than you had originally anticipated.

You wanted to surprise Jake, so you didn't call him to tell him you were early.

When you opened the door of your house, warmth and the fragrant smell of pizza engulfed you and your mouth watered instantly.

Jake was surprised to see you.

He was sprawled on the sofa wearing only a soft robe around his body. When he saw you were there, he approached you, placing a lingering kiss on your freezing lips.

He looked freshly showered and so soft you wanted to climb inside his body. He smelled wonderfully too.

As soon as your eyes landed on him, you were no longer hungry.

Well, at least not for actual food.

You couldn't wait to be tangled with him under many blankets.

When he asked about your day you didn't answer. You just crashed your lips with his and reveled in the familiar and comforting taste of him.

You started backing him slowly back into the living room and, when he reached the couch, you made him sit down.

You admired the way his damp lips glittered in the soft light coming from the lamp in the corner of the room and the way his big brown sleepy eyes watched you ever so submissively from below.

When you slowly dropped down to your knees between his slightly parted legs, you saw his eyes roll back into his skull as a low growl escaped his throat.

You started caressing his thighs through the fabric covering him and you saw him shiver lightly when you reached for the knot holding the robe closed.

You made quick work of it, uncovering his chest and starting to place little kisses on the expanse of soft smooth skin. Your icy hands travelled lower and he hissed sharply when you touched the warm bare skin of his hips, the contrasting temperatures making goosebumps raise on his body.

You uncovered him completely then, moving your kisses lower onto that soft tummy that you loved so much while your hands rounded around his perfect ass.

He hissed again then and tensed, but relaxed soon after, when your hands started warming, thanks to the heat of his body.

Your kisses moved lower and lower and you made him gasp when you stuck your tongue out and circled his navel, before dipping it inside.

Then, you placed a quick kiss on his hip bone and you bit down harshly, sucking the skin inside your mouth and making him groan again.

You had been purposely neglecting his growing erection, but when his hips rutted up almost imperceptibly, you took pity in him.

Now you were face to face with it. He was absolutely perfect and you knew you would never get tired of him.

You gently took him into your hand and he stiffened even more. You both sighed, contentedly. You knew that the feeling of his weight growing in your hand and on your tongue would cure your upset. It always did.

“God, please, baby yes” he muttered, sounding already on the verge.

You started stroking him gently and seductively.

“Did you take care of yourself today, baby?” You asked him as your lips started kissing, nibbling and leaving marks on the inside of his thighs.

Surprisingly he shook his head.

“I didn't. I was waiting for you. Actually I kind of edged myself all day” he confessed, already out of breath.

“You know I love when you take care of this beautiful cock of yours when I'm not here to do so, but fuck it if I don't love the idea of you edging yourself because you wanted to wait for me.” You whispered on his damp skin, making him shiver again as your grip tightened slightly around his erection.

“I know, but I missed your touch so much that nothing compares” He confessed, moaning lowly as your tongue dragged up and down the underside of him from base to tip to base again, in one slow broad lick.

Your hands stroked his hips again and you thought you felt something in one of his pockets.

You were about to reach inside to discover what it was but he begged for your mouth , blushing a little.

“I need your mouth, angel” he whimpered, sounding desperate.

You nuzzled your nose against the warm skin of his balls, making him close his eyes and whimper.

Unexpectedly, you started stroking him with purpose, making him grit his teeth and pant at your sudden change of pace.

You even added the little twist to the tip that he loved so much, gaining a pained groan from him.

You placed his wet tip between your lips and gave him a light suck before plunging him to the back of your throat without warning while kneading his balls gently between your fingers.

That action made him almost lose it completely but he recovered, biting his bottom lip with force and clawing at the couch.

His back arched as your throat constricted around his length and his movement caused something to finally slip out of his pocket.

Lube.

You slowed down your rhythm but kept your mouth on him, arching an eyebrow and silently asking him for an explanation.

And he couldn't stop himself from confessing.

“Since you were late, I wanted to try something. I was ready to turn on the TV on some suggestive video and edge myself until you came home.” He whispered, averting his eyes from yours, embarrassed.

You gently removed your mouth from him and sat back at his confession.

An idea slowly slithered inside your mind.

“Go on then, baby. Show me what you had in mind” you winked at him, tossing him the lube and making him curse.

“Really?” He asked, a little annoyed about your change of heart.

“Hm-hm” you nodded and sat back to enjoy the show.

You watched him closely as he placed a generous amount of lube onto his hands and warmed it a little.

Then he wrapped a hand around himself and started stroking his cock slowly, groaning and whimpering every now and then.

Just when you saw his body tense and you knew he was almost ready to let go, you spoke, ordering him to stop and remove his hand from himself completely.

“Stop, Jakey” you said. Your authoritative tone made him almost jump.

His eyes shot open in shock, as if in reality he forgot you were there and didn't enjoy your little teasing game.

But you knew better. He was the one who taught you that edging, and consequently being edged, was one of his favorite things. Ever.

You had learned that at your expense way too many times.

“Baby, pleaseee. I need it so bad.” He begged you, pouting adorably and hitching to wrap his hand around himself once more to finish what you had started.

He looked at you with a pained expression and with his rosy lips wet and parted as he panted, but obeyed nonetheless.

“First, you have to tell me what's inside your other pocket.” You went on, sounding incredibly serious.

His eyes widened in utter panic and he blushed the deepest shade of red you had ever seen.

Then, he cursed himself out loud for even thinking he could outsmart you and get away with it.

He knew he was in trouble. And the more he waited to finally show you the content of his pocket, the more you were going to punish him for even thinking he could get away with it.

Even though he knew that, he couldn't even bring himself to say it out loud but after a few agitated minutes in which his heart threatened to jump out of his chest, he finally relented.

You followed the slow path of his hand from the couch to inside his pocket with bated breath.

You saw him grab something in there.

Then his eyes fluttered closed, he took a deep breath, muttered a low “oh my god” and then removed his hand from there, finally showing you what he had been hiding from you.

You gasped.

You really didn't expect that.

His cheeks were ablaze. He was covering his eyes with his bent arm as he placed the object on the sofa for you to see and, immediately, removed his hand from it as if he had been burned.

You didn't know what to say.

You recognised it.

It was the vibrating dildo he had once discovered inside your nightstand drawer at the early stages of your relationship.

You had been so embarrassed that night but he, being the gentleman that he was, had brushed it off like it wasn't a big deal. He had even told you he was happy you took care of yourself properly.

You had almost forgotten about it until one night.

You were grasping the sheets for dear life as Jake was railing you from behind.

Sometimes he was the most careful and gentle lover, but other times he treated you like a filthy whore.

That night was one of those times.

And you were loving every second of it.

But suddenly you had felt him move and you had jolted forward in utter shock when you felt something wet and slightly vibrating circle your back entrance.

“Shh, angel.” He reassured you as he kept thrusting into you, “it's just your pretty little toy. It was a bit jealous. It wanted to say hi to your pretty ass as I take care of your sweet pink pussy.” You moaned at his words and started pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Are you ok with this?” He whispered into your ear from behind, dragging the vibrating toy up and then down your spine, making you shiver, while keeping his thrusts steady but gentle.

You quickly nodded, you needed it so bad.

It wasn't the first time you two indulged in such depraved activities.

To be fair, one night you'd had one too many drinks and you had confessed to him you wanted to try double penetration but since then he had never acted upon it.

He must have thought you weren't paying enough attention to his question because he stopped abruptly and bent his entire body over yours.

The contact with his hot skin made you shiver and moan.

His lips quickly found your ear and his voice, sweet and raspy, made goosebumps raise on your skin.

“Are you really ok with me doing this?” He said gently while pushing strands of your hair out of your eyes to better see your face.

The more you thought about it, the more you couldn't wait for him to do that.

You shivered in anticipation and kissed him passionately.

“Please, Jake, yes” You said, involuntarily clenching around him and making him groan.

You felt the distinct sound of him getting the toy ready for you with copious amounts of lube and then you tried your best to relax.

The feeling of the lightly-vibrating toy sliding inside of your back entrance while Jake kept his hard, flushed cock inside your pussy was something you had never experienced.

You felt so deliciously full you couldn't think straight.

When he started gently moving his hips while keeping the toy still inside of you, you couldn't stop your mouth from hanging open, making you drool all over the sheets.

The sounds that started leaving your mouth were delirious and unbridled when he started pulling the toy slightly out and then back again, picking up the pace.

But you reached the point of no return when he coordinated his thrusts with the toy and increased the speed of the vibrations.

“God, fuck, I can feel it vibrating through your walls, angel. It feels so fucking good.” he groaned on the verge of exploding.

Your brain shut down completely when he increased it at maximum level and you came, making an absolute mess all over the sheets and dragging him with you in a matter of seconds.

Those were the thoughts that crossed your mind when you saw that toy, but you were brought right back to the task at hand when a pained whisper reached your ears.

“Please, just say something” he whispered, still refusing to look you in the eyes.

Your hands immediately found his hips, giving his soft flushed skin a gentle squeeze to try and ease the tension in his body.

The embarrassment had caused him to lose his excitement completely.

As your hands massaged his hips, thighs and back, you felt him relax again.

You skimmed your lips on his soft tummy and started to nibble at the skin of his hipbone, while wrapping a loose hand around his now soft cock.

He mewled a little and sunk further into the sofa.

“It's ok baby, don't be embarrassed. May I ask you what exactly you had in mind?” you asked him, keeping a gentle rhythm on him and circling your tongue around his head.

With a shaky intake of breath he started speaking.

“One night we were staying in a hotel somewhere and there was no way I could sleep. I was so tired but I just couldn't. I didn't want to bother you so I just started messing around with my phone. I ended up on an adult website and…fuck, baby just like that.”

You had successfully derailed his train of thoughts by sucking gently on his tip, tasting his sweet precum.

But the distraction was short-lived.

You needed to know more.

“And?” You pressed him to continue.

“And I randomly chose a video to watch and touch myself to. But when I scrolled down I ended up on a video about…this” he said, pointing to the toy that laid there abandoned on the couch.

He knew you wanted more, so after a few seconds, he went on.

“Fuck, I still get so hard thinking about it. In the video there was a woman penetrating her man with one of this things and he sounded like it was the best thing he had ever had. It looked and sounded like she was ripping the soul from his body. And damn it if I didn't want to try it. It made me cum so hard and so quick I was so embarrassed. I felt so ashamed but I couldn't stop watching it. I wanted to finally try this when you arrived earlier.” he confessed with his cheeks ablaze.

You had completely stilled your hand and mouth on him. You felt incredibly overwhelmed by his words and your brain was having a hard time concentrating.

You two weren't new to that kind of fun either.

It all started the night after a delicious wine-tasting event. The two of you were pleasantly tipsy and you couldn't take your hands off each other as soon as you got home

You were on the couch, clothes already scattered all over the floor and your hands were wandering on each other's bodies. Yours had taken residence on his perfect perky ass and you were kneading the muscles in your hands, making him groan and whimper.

Suddenly your hand slipped and your fingers made contact with his back entrance causing him to whimper and moan your name.

You had frozen after that, looking him in the eyes completely lost in his reaction.

Right there, with a little smirk on his upturned mouth and his eyes glittering from wine and arousal, he wrapped a hand around your wrist and brought two of your fingers to his lips, sucking on them sloppily. Then he dragged them down to repeat the motion that had him moaning over and over again until you were knuckle deep inside of him and he was a whimpering mess.

Maybe your fingers weren't enough anymore and he needed more.

And you were going to give him anything and everything he ever wanted.

He noticed you were lost in your head and his gentle touch on your lips brought you back to the task at hand.

You wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking lightly, and then letting it drop from your mouth.

You met his eyes and your heartbeat sped up considerably.

He looked so needy and fucked-out already. Delicate and delicious.

“Did you want to try this all alone?” You asked him pouting slightly because he hadn't told you he wanted to try that before.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn't… I guess I didn't know how to bring this up. I can't even say it to be honest” He confessed sheepishly.

“Really? You didn't know how to tell me you wanted me to fuck you in the ass with this bad boy here?” You told him patting the silicone at his side and making him groan out loud at you choice of words.

“Fucking hell baby. You are torturing me. Don't stop.” He said in a pained tone and you winked at him.

“Did you edge yourself with it before I arrived and interrupted you?” you asked then, in a sliver of voice.

He nodded, biting his lower lip, embarrassed.

“Well, Jakey, why don't you show me then? I'd like to watch you have some fun with our little friend here.” You whispered, sensual and dirty, handing him the dildo and the lube and then making yourself comfortable on a cushion on the floor, right in front of his spread legs.

His breath hitched in his throat as he saw you there watching and admiring him like that.

Yours was just a façade. You appeared to him absolutely calm and collected, but internally you were exploding and fighting the urge to jump his bones and destroy him with that toy.

The moment he switched the toy on at the minimum speed, you imperceptibly jumped and bit your tongue to stop yourself from moaning when you saw his hard cock twitch against his flushed tummy.

Your eyes followed his every move with bated breath as he drenched the toy with lube. You watched as he angled his erection upwards with the thumb of his free hand and brushed the tip of the vibrating toy against his flushed head.

A whimper left his lips.

Then he started circling the toy around his tip, focusing on the little spot right under the head and his toes curled at the sensation.

You were going to implode.

He started caressing his shaft with it, up and down, up and down, panting heavily, first just with the tip of the toy and then grabbing the length of it and placing it flush against his member. .

He almost screamed when he prodded the toy against his full tensed balls and you felt your arousal absolutely drench your panties at the sight.

He was about to drag the toy further down but he stopped abruptly, blushing furiously and abandoning it on the couch with a pained groan.

His brain was taking over, making him feel ashamed for what he was doing.

The moment he made eye contact with you, you knelt on the cold floor and crawled towards him.

You closed the distance between the two of you and sat on the sofa at his side, kissing him and stealing his breath away.

“Relax Jakey, let me take care of you” you whispered on his lips and he sighed.

You slipped back on the ground and took him in your hand and then in your mouth, the warmth of it making him hiss.

Your rhythm was slow on his dick and it was making him go crazy.

After a while, when finally he had managed to relax again, you grasped his hand and placed it on the toy that was still humming lightly at his side.

His eyes met yours questioningly but you just nodded and hummed approvingly when he took the toy in his hand.

You placed his hand between his legs and made him almost double over in pleasure when you gently made him press the silicone tip against his taint while keeping your mouth on him.

The scream that echoed into the room was heavenly.

You wanted to hear it again.

You pressed his hand with the toy with a bit more intention there and he cursed, his body tensing.

At that moment your hand slipped further down and you made him push the toy right against his hole, eliciting from him a low moan that made a shiver run down your spine.

You removed both the toy and your mouth from him and he cursed and pleaded with you to just touch him again.

He was about to take the matter into his own hands when you bit on the inside of his thigh to stop him.

Then, while maintaining eye contact with him you licked a broad stripe on the underside of his balls and you pressed your pointed tongue right against his taint and further down, rimming his fluttering hole over and over again while your eyes burned into his.

His eyes rolled back and you chuckled. You loved teasing him like that.

“Holy shit, angel!” He whimpered and clawed at the couch as your tongue kept licking at his entrance with different kinds of pressure.

When, abruptly, you stopped he started begging you, immediately.

“Please, baby, pleasepleaseplease, just fuck me already I can't take it anymore” he slurred, out of breath.

But you were feeling cruel and you didn't want to give in just yet. You wanted to play with him and you were sure he was going to love every second of it.

You removed your mouth from him and he shivered when you started whispering against the sweaty skin of his hip.

“Now, my sweet good boy, would you like to play a game with me?” You said while skimming your lips from his hip to the underside of his cock.

You knew he was going to agree to everything you suggested. He was always down for this kind of games.

“Fuck yes, I do” he answered, closing his eyes and relaxing back.

“I am going to give you everything you want over and over and over again, but on one condition.” You stopped talking until his eyes were open and focused on yours.

When you knew he was looking at you, you started caressing the outside of his muscular thighs, reveling in the way the muscles jumped under your delicate touch while maintaining a devilish eyecontact.

When you reached his knees, you let your hands wrap around them and you pushed them upwards until he was deliciously spread open for you with his bent legs close to his face.

“Keep these beautiful legs of yours spread open for me and wrap your hands around your knees, Jakey. Oh, and hold on tight because if you take them off I'm going to stop and you'll go to bed with blue balls. Understood?” You deadpanned and he knew you meant business.

“Fuck me. Yes, I understand.” He whimpered as your hands caressed the back of his thighs and pressed them further apart.

“Are you ok with this, Jake?” You whispered and he started nodding and saying yes even before you had finished the sentence.

You chuckled but he interrupted you, sounding already on the verge

“I'm beyond the point of no return. I think I may go crazy if you don't just fuck me already.” He confessed spreading himself even further for you.

You delved right in then, skimming your tongue against his entrance and wrapping a tight hand around his leaking cock.

You loved feeling him flutter under the steady licks of your tongue.

When you knew he was relaxed and ready, you stopped stroking him, you let a few drops of lube fall on your fingers and started pushing one inside him, making his scream in pleasure.

“Please, another” he groaned when the first wasn't even fully inside of him yet but you didn't even think twice before giving him exactly what he was asking for.

Soon a third finger joined the other two and you couldn't take your eyes off from where his body was rhythmically swallowing and enveloping your fingers into its warmth.

That image would be engraved in your brain forever, you were sure of it.

He was being such a good boy that you wanted to reward him, so you slightly curled your fingers upwards, making him exhale a high-pitched moan as you easily found his special spot.

“Now I'm going to use the toy, Jakey” you whispered, gently removing your fingers from him and he nodded, struggling to keep his eyes open.

You grabbed the toy you had previously switched off and drenched it one last time with lube.

You circled the tip of it around his hole and Jake whined when you turned the light vibrations on.

You kept teasing him like that for a few minutes before he begged you again to just push the toy in to the hilt. He was desperate.

As you pressed the toy a few inches inside of him he moaned your name, relieved, and arched his back trying to push it in further.

“Please, push it all the way inside. I need it so bad.” He whispered and you obeyed, watching him shiver and arch his back in pleasure as the toy penetrated him deeper and deeper. Watching his toes curl in your peripheral vision was having the worst effect on you, making you moan.

As you kept the toy inside of him you took the opportunity to observe him closely.

He had slipped further down the sofa and was now laying with his back almost all the way on the seat of the couch with his head bent against the back cushion.

He had trapped his hands in the crease behind his spread knees to prevent himself from letting them go and disobeying you.

He was panting heavily, his lips were reddened and sleek with saliva and swollen from the constant biting.

His neck and his heaving chest were covered in sweat, making his skin glitter.

His long hair was completed damp with sweat and strands of it were plastered all over his cheeks and collarbone.

You couldn't help yourself.

You bent over him and kissed him intensely. His tongue wasn't fighting for dominance, like it usually was. He was granting you total control on his body, and you were about to reward him.

As you kept your eyes planted on his face, you started pulling the toy out of him and you saw his face scrunch up and then relax again when you pushed the toy back in.

You repeated the motion again and again, angling the toy so it would massage his special spot and he started whimpering lowly every time it did.

The need to see him unravel completely by your hand was increasing in your chest so you quickened your rhythm, bending to whisper into his ear.

“You better hold on tight, baby, ‘cause I'm about to fucking ruin you.” you hissed in his ear and began moving the toy at a punishing rhythm. That caused his back to arch violently from the couch and a string of curses left his mouth.

“Oh fuck me, angel, just like this, oh my god. Yes fuuuck, right there” He moaned out loud with his eyes squeezed shut as a sequence of particular harsh thrusts hit his prostate in rapid succession.

His eyes snapped open and he cursed loudly when you sucked his balls into your mouth. You started massaging them delicately with your tongue, making him almost scream, while his cock, rock hard and leaking, laid twitching but still neglected on his sweaty tummy.

Your arm started cramping with the unforgiving rhythm you were using to fuck the toy inside of him but you didn't plan on stopping until he was coming harder than he ever had.

With your other unoccupied hand, you were grasping his hip so strongly you were sure you were leaving marks there. You couldn't wait to see his bruises there and remind him who he belonged to.

A particularly intense suction on his full balls paired with the harsh punching his prostate was enduring were what sealed his fate.

He held his breath and you knew he was about to unravel.

When finally he reached the point of no return, it looked as if he had completely lost control over his body. His head started thrashing around and a prolonged scream left his lips.

Ropes of cum covered the sweaty skin of his chest, creating a beautiful painting. Some drops of it even landed on his neck, chin and lips since he was still pretty much folded in half.

The intensity of his orgasm made him dig his nails so hard into the delicate skin behind his knees that he ended up scratching himself.

You kept your eyes peeled on him, admiring him in all his naked glory as his chest heaved and his mouth dropped open in the throes of utmost pleasure, before he started to finally calm down.

You slowed down the thrusts of the dildo and bent over him again. You licked away the drops of cum still on his lips and kissed him, making him taste himself on your tongue and groan.

You were about to remove the toy from inside of him and pamper him with a nice hot bath when you noticed something.

He was still very much hard and you wanted to prolong his pleasure, since he had obeyed your orders so diligently.

You were about to make him remember that night forever.

A loud hoarse curse echoed in the room as you angled the vibrator upwards and put it at maximum speed moving it gently against his prostate without thrusting too harshly.

Then, to maximise his pleasure, you plunged him down your throat while one of your hands gently massaged and squeezed his balls.

He was completely gone in an instant, babbling and moaning unintelligible words that sounded very much like a mix of curses and your name.

You hadn't noticed that he had removed his hands from his knees until you felt one of them bury in your hair.

His grip got progressively harsher on you but you were loving it.

At one point his thighs snapped closed, trapping your face between his legs and muffling the beautiful sounds he was making.

His back arched abruptly and his other hand gripped the back of the couch in an iron grip as his mouth dropped open in a scream so loud it was absolutely impossible that your neighbours didn't hear it.

You felt him twitch in your mouth and, immediately after, he spurted his warm release down your throat. His body twitched and shook and his chest heaved like he had just finished a marathon. He was so beautiful you wished your eyes could take pictures.

An indefinite amount of time had passed when finally he relaxed the grip of his thighs from your face and of his hand from your scalp.

You clearly saw some of your ripped hair hanging between his fingers when he moved his hand from your head, but you didn't care. You were ready to do that all over again as soon as he asked you to.

He couldn't keep his eyes open and he was having a hard time calming his heartbeat and breathing.

You removed your mouth from around him and he shivered but still he was a sight to behold.

His hair was completely damp with sweat and clinging onto his forehead, cheeks and neck.

Little rivulets of sweat adorned his chest and strings of pearlescent cum decorated his tummy chest and collarbone from his previous orgasm.

He had the most relaxed and blissed-out face you had ever seen with his rosy tortured lips slightly parted and his eyes closed.

But still he wasn't talking.

You started to worry. He was about to slip entirely off the couch so you tried to call his name, but he just mumbled in response, without opening his eyes

You tried to keep him from falling, but with your sore knees and arms you couldn't and, at some point, he fell dragging you down with him and landing with his head on your chest.

You chuckled at his expenses. You had never seen him so fucked-out.

“Jakey?” You whispered after a few minutes, caressing his hair.

“Hmhm” he grumbled in a sliver of voice.

“Are you ok?” You asked him, moving your hand gently down his spine.

“Yeah” he whispered, but he didn't move.

You two laid there a bit more reveling in eachother's presence until you felt him shiver.

“Jake?” You whispered again.

“Yeah?” He answered this time, sounding almost asleep.

“We should take a nice hot bath, what do you think?” You suggested, trying to sit up but failing miserably.

“No” he said, the pout evident in his tone.

“C'mon, we can sleep afterwards” you tried to convince him.

After a little more persuasion and a few giggles from your part, he finally relented and you managed to make him roll off of you. Getting him up wasn't exactly easy, since his legs were shaking with the aftermath of your devilish ministrations.

When finally the two of you were pleasantly immersed in hot water and he was laying with his back against your chest, you started washing the sweat and remnants of that crazy evening off his spent body.

“Are you ok?” You finally asked while you rinsed his hair one last time.

He didn't answer you.

Instead he turned around in the tub and kissed you deeply, caressing your body gently but passionately with his calloused fingers.

Then swiftly, he grabbed your hips and pushed you out of the tub, making you sit on the edge of it with your back against the cold wall and your legs spread open in front of his face.

You gasped and grabbed at his shoulder to steady yourself while you observed him astonished.

You were about to speak but he stopped you, placing a wet finger against your parted lips.

“Remember, angel, the one who laughs last laughs best” he whispered, bringing his mouth closer and closer to your heath.

He was going to get his revenge, and you were absolutely ready for it.

____________________________________

Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka @twistedmelodies @ignite-my-fire @gvfmarge @writingcold @brujamagik @edgingthedarkness @gold-mines-melting @mindastreamofcolours @blacksoul-27 @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @mapelsyrup07 @klarxtr @takenbythemadness @peaceloveunitygvf @lyndz2names @jazzyfigz @its-interesting-van-kleep @katuschka @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @hollyco

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #jake kiszka #fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake gvf #jake kiszka x reader

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autistichalsin · 6 months ago

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So here's a hot take.

I see a lot of people saying that it would be fun to have a way to make Halsin worse. And I agree that it would totally be cool to be able to corrupt Halsin!

However, I don't think his canon arc would make the most sense leading to the Shadow Druids. Those are the tiny hints Larian dropped, yeah- the Shadow Druids being sent by Ketheric to corrupt the Grove to make them less of a threat against him, the Shadow Druids noting they are going to Baldur's Gate next, Halsin's brief moment of doubt that they were right. And a lot of other media love playing the ecoterrorist angle. So I can see why it's where a lot of people's minds go.

But from a characterization standpoint, I can't see it. Halsin dealt with the Shadow Curse for over 100 years. It cursed his home, and his childhood best friend who was the physical embodiment of nature. If he survived literally 100 years of darkness without being particularly moved to join the Shadow Druids, I just don't see how the sufferings of Baldur's Gate would push him into it. Those are much less personal stakes.

So, if we were to get a darker Halsin route, I would propose one of two things;

1. Introduce a failure state for act 2 that doesn't result in Halsin staying behind in the Shadowlands.

The easiest thought is that maybe doing part of the quest but not finishing it would result in him staying behind, seeing that there is hope to break it now, while doing nothing makes him think he's no closer to solving it than he was before, so things are unlikely to deteriorate while he goes with the player to solve the Absolute crisis.

Or if we wanted to make it REALLY awful, make it possible for Thaniel and/or Oliver to actually die, breaking Halsin's heart completely in the process. With his friend gone for good, his last hope gone, and with the Dead Three to blame directly, Halsin could become clouded by grief. Maybe it makes his story mirror Ketheric's in a sad way; Ketheric lost Isobel and became a monster, Halsin loses Thaniel and, while not becoming a monster per se, takes a darker, extremist path to avenging him, vowing to let nature reclaim Baldur's Gate in his memory.

Basically, what I'm getting at here is that there's nothing personal enough in Baldur's Gate proper to inspire such a radical shift. Canon, as it is, lets us see his momentary temptation and go "yeah makes sense" but there needed to be far more if I was going to buy his transformation to a Shadow Druid. This would provide that deep pain that cults are so good at preying on.

2. Similar to the above, but pushing it back to act 1. Make it so that the Grove raid, instead of being triggered by the player directly, can also be triggered by inaction; maybe once the player speaks to Minthara/frees Sazza, a timer starts for long rests, and at the conclusion, if the leaders aren't killed, the goblin leaders show up at the Grove. Halsin being freed already lets him fight on your side to stop them, while Halsin still being a captive lets the raid complete.

Similar to the above, Halsin's rage and grief at the defilement of nature then drives him into it. At first he just seeks out revenge, but later, after seeing the Shadow Curse and having those particular wounds opened back up (this one could proceed the same as canon) he gets pushed into something more methodical.

Shadow Druid Halsin could be a lot of fun IMO, but we would need something more than we have to establish a motive. Seeing sadness in a city for the first time wouldn't be enough to cause Halsin to drop every principle he has about nature being a balancing act between good and evil, darkness and light, order and chaos. For him to be pushed so firmly to an anti-society view, he would need to witness something far worse. So those are the two scenarios I can think of that would give just the little push, the sense of personal, direct harm, that would cause Halsin's morals to shift so drastically.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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zesmoon · 27 days ago

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Sylus is... Sick?! [Sylus x reader]

tags: sickfic, fluff, comfort, gentle Sylus, Luke and Kieran

The impossible has happened. Mr perfect, the man who seems to never even have a hair out of place, is sick. You would've thought his Evol prevented this kind of thing, but apparently the flu is too powerful against it.

Note: Sorry, this is slightly rushed, and not as polished as I had hoped I'm a bit unwell at the moment, which is what inspired this!

You hadn't heard from him for hours.. It's normal for him to not respond occasionally, but he prioritised your texts, he always did. And he hasn't missed a single 'good morning' message since you met him, no matter what. So when you woke up to no notifications from him, you felt a bit hurt. Had you said something wrong the night before..? Your mind was racing with possibilities of why he could not be answering, constantly coming back to the same conclusion of him being mad at you. Staring down at your empty notification panel, You decided to text Luke and Kieran.

Y/n: Hey, you two, is Sylus out?

Luke: Y/n! hi!

Kieran: Haven't seen him today, why?

You sigh at the message, feeling too worried to acknowledge the greeting.

Y/n: Is he at home..?

Luke: Why are you asking?

Y/n: I haven't heard from him.. can you go and check if he's okay? I'm worried he's mad at me...

Kieran: It's normal for him to disappear like this, besides, disturbing his peace is a death wish for us...

Y/n: Please!!!!!!

Luke: ….fine...

Kieran: You're paying for our funerals, you hear me?

You sighed and placed your phone back down as the two sent a string of sad emojis. Trying to wait patiently was difficult, but this has never happened before, you've never gone a whole 8 hours without even a message explaining where he was.

Your phone dings

Kieran: He said he's fine.

Luke: and we survived! He didn't even scold us for not knocking!

You frown at the screen. He's fine? But he isn't messaging you? that's not like him.

Y/n: did he seem mad..?

Kieran: No, he seemed fine to us? Is something the matter?

Luke: You didn't get into a fight, did you?!

A few more messages ping through, but you don't acknowledge them, you cant help but get up from your couch, grabbing your shoes and coat.

Y/n: be there in 10.

You make your way quickly to Sylus' mansion. You don't even think about the risks of you running around like mad through that dangerous place, you didn't really care either. You couldn't bare going another minute without knowing what was wrong. You couldn't recall saying anything wrong, or doing anything wrong.. so why is he acting off?

You reach the door, fumbling in your coat pocket for your spare key, but the door opens up to the two masked men. Luke and Kieran looked confused as you barged in. "y/n, he seems fine!" "yeah, what's the matter?" the two bombarded you with questions as you beelined for his office, opening it to see its empty. "He's not in here?" You looked at the two, with a concerned expression, which grew worse when Luke pointed at the bedroom.

It's not like Sylus to stay in his room all day, If anything, its where he spends the least amount of time unless you're over. You hesitantly open the door, seeing a figure under the duvet, and your breath hitches in your throat. This is totally unlike him, in bed at this time..? He's definitely a night owl, but this was just weird...

"Sylus?" You announced, walking over to him, Luke and Kieran hanging by the door in case they need to intervene. You saw him laying there, awake, but his cheeks were red. He didn't speak, just reaching his hand out of the cover, waiting for you to hold it. When you held his hand, it was red hot. "Oh my gosh... You're sick..?" You look at him, with a baffled expression. "Sylus, YOU'RE sick?". You repeated the question, watching the man nod, noticing the sweat on his forehead. You shooed the twins away, and crouched by the bed.

You had to admit - it was adorable. This powerful figure, who terrified so many people, was wrapped up in bed, with a stuffy nose, shivering as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. You put your hand on his forehead, still stunned by the situation. "Oh Sy, you should've told someone.. You should've told me..." You said gently. His brows furrowed slightly. "And let someone see me in such a vulnerable state..?" He said, his usual cocky tone strained by his sore throat.

"I'm surprised you didn't even tell the twins.. Have you even eaten? or drank anything? You really should've gotten some help, have you had any medicine?" you continued on. He chuckled, squeezing your hand slightly. "I don't need to.. I'm fine.." And while you'd usually roll your eyes at his stubbornness, you just gave him a worried expression. "How are you sick..? I would've thought your evol would prevent this?". He coughed, before speaking again "I suppose certain things overpower my abilities.". "I didn't expect that... I can shoot you, and you're fine.. but you can catch the flu?" - your questioning eliciting a laugh from him.

You decide you'll stay with him until he gets better. How could you leave his stubborn man to suffer? In a way, you felt so bad for the man, the man who you usually saw as perfect, and certainly didn't think you'd see in such a position. You also knew he wouldn't let anyone else help him in a time like this.

"c'mon then, sit up." You encouraged, but he only groaned back, you pulled on his arm, "Sylus…" You said, with a more instructive tone, as he pushed himself up, his messy bed hair and flushed face sight you will never be able to forget, how cute.

"First of all, you need to drink, being dehydrated won't help at all.." You say, pushing the glass of water by his bed up to his lips, helping him drink. You then adjust the pillows, encouraging him to lay back down, as you disappear into his bathroom, firstly looking through the cabinet for any sort of medication, but of course the stubborn man only had his fancy products.. "Sy, do you not have any medicine?" you called out, and his raspy voice responded "In the drawer, sweetheart.". You searched through the drawer, which was also full of his manly products - and among them was some paracetamol and ibuprofen. perfect. You grabbed the boxes, as well as preparing a wet towel. You entered the room again, popping the medicine out of the capsules, and encouraging him to take it. "You know, I only brought the medicine for you.. how ironic." He said, as he took it. You smiled at the confession. "That is sweet, and its a good thing you had it." You responded as he laid back down, sweeping his hair away from his forehead and popping the towel on his forehead. He sighed in relief at the feeling, and then looked up at you. "Thank you, sweetheart." He said. His throat sounded so sore, you couldn't help but soften your gaze. "I must say, I'm disappointed that I'm the one getting all of this pampering.." he followed, as you rolled your eyes. "It's about time I get to be the one taking care of you, Sy." You said, laying beside him in his bed, cuddling against him. "Now, try to go to sleep, no matter if you're not tired, you need to get some rest, you hear me?" you said, partially mimicking his usual stern tone. "Yes ma'am." He said with a smirk, closing his eyes.

Thank you for reading! :)

#sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #lnds sylus #lnds headcanons #lnds fic #lnds quickfic #l&ds sylus #l&ds #lads #lads sylus #lads sickfic

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sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan · 11 months ago

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Yor and Anya could both be of Royal Ancestry in Ostania. (Long Post Again, Sorry!)

It has a little connection to the first theory I’ve post about Yor being a subject of Project Apple. You can read it here.

Just some take I have on this scene on Chapter 4 (Because it always makes me wonder)

Notice how the three of them immediately caught Henderson’s attention just by walking? Like they haven’t done anything remarkable yet Henry said he could sense some elegance in them. It was only them that he pointed out. I can’t help but think about the reason why Henderson said this.

My take is that the three of them used to be part of elite and prestigious families.

Loid’s family in the West, in Luwen, seems to be well off judging by the way they dress, their home, and his father’s job seems to be important too.

But if it wasn’t the case, Loid can still be elegant because he strived to be perfect in everything he does. He was trained how to act elegantly in order to blend in with other people. But I stick by my theory that he came from a rich family from the West.

But being elegant wasn’t taught to Anya and Yor. It’s like for both of them, they had that tinge of elegance in their blood.

Then come through this theory about Anya being a part of monarch/royalty. If that theory is true then that must be the reason why Henderson saw something with Anya.

Then how about Yor? She also came from a prominent family. I’m going to make a wild guess that she’s also a monarch. A hidden monarch like my theory with Anya.

I would like to consider her back story to be the same as Sleeping Beauty or Little Briar Rose since it is evident that this fairytale inspired most of Yor’s characters (The needle like weapon, her surname, the roses). So what if the royal family were the first ones that have these abilities? The first experiments, after the monarchy was taken down, are the remaining members of the monarch family.

But her parents took them and hid them faraway where no harm would ever come to them, just like how the fairies kept Aurora hidden in the forest, keeping the fact that she’s a princess/royal. But at the end of the day, despite them keeping her away from the spindle, the needle (being used because of her ability) she still ended up taking the bait in the end after they died (Like how Aurora still ended up getting pricked by spindle despite all her parents’/kingdom’s parents effort to protect her).

Yor has been under a curse since then, like asleep and paralyzed, devoid of emotions. But then, came the prince who saved her life and made living worth it for her again (If she never married Loid, I really think she would just accept death in that cruise arc battle he had with that Katana guy).

Ah! just think if Loid’s real name has something with Philip, the same as Briar Rose/Aurora’s Prince’s name in the Disney movie! What if it’s also a surname like Yor BRIAR. Loid could be James (From 007 James Bond) and Philip, James Philip! Just imagine, it would be genius right? Loid’s name could be anything though, but I would totally flip it was that, just the parallel and the complement of his real name to Yor!

Anyway moving on….

If Yor is also a monarch like Anya then does that mean that she’s blood related to Anya? That is what I don’t have a theory about. Maybe if I have the time, I’ll reread the manga from the start again and find some details that can help me elaborate this theory or debunk it.

These are all speculations of mine that I wanted to share. Thoughts that I can’t help but think of regarding what could be Yor’s backstory because we know nothing besides her parents both died when they were kids and that was all.

I know these might be far-fetched and don't make sense and the story can’t be that complicated but hey, the possibility of these being canon is not zero.

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be-my-ally · 11 months ago

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Snowballs and Kisses

Hello darlings!! Merry Christmas! I hope everyone celebrating has a wonderful day, and everyone for whom it is a usual monday has a better than usual start to the week!!

I have been MIA the last few weeks on here, but never fear I have been busy behind the scenes and hopefully more things and fics will be finished very soon!! I cannot wait for my little new year break, and *finally* catching up on all the stuff I've missed!! In the meantime as a ittle teeny tiny Christmas gift please enjoy this timeskip for my Splashing Around ‘verse to Christmas Eve 1960 and my shameless OC self insert of what I’d like to gift Elvis.

a/n not totally accurate weather references: it didn’t actually snow in memphis in the latter half of 1959 but, this is fanfiction after all and it *was* very cold november 18th 1959. (I also cut a whole 4k of angst that will come out at some point as a separate chapter, Anita getting a poodle, and the colonel dressed as santa because honestly i just wanted to write and read fluff, but here's a warning that there may end up being more festive fics posted…a little late).

warnings: 18+, smut lite; gentle fingering and references to cumming in pants. UNEDITED

Graceland - December 1960

The excitement of having Elvis back at home for the festive season was only slightly tempered by the knowledge that it was his first Christmas at home without his mother. He’d not really tried to celebrate properly in Germany; sure they’d done the best they could, and he raved about the gift of a fully dressed tree for weeks, but it hadn’t been the same as it would have been at home.

This year though, Elvis seemed determined to restore the festive spirit. Perhaps even further than just restoration - an attempt to make it as bright and jolly as possible in response to both his mother’s passing, and missing the last two. He’d bragged to anyone who would listen about how excited he was to give out presents, his plans for even more lights than ever before; signs and lawn decorations.

While Louise was excited, it had left her in an almost constant state of anxiety, Christmas wasn’t just about the gift-giving… but it was a large enough part of it that it’s where her mind immediately went. From the moment he suggested they hang at Graceland that first year, from the first time they’d all pored over the letter to Frances, and his promises to “have a ball next Christmas”, giggling and whispering about what fun they were going to have the following year. From all of those times Louise had been preoccupied with what to get him and whether her secret plan was good enough for Elvis of all people.

That first year he had reiterated to them all and was absolutely adamant no-one needed to gift him anything and wouldn’t hear of anything being sent over to him. But his frequent calls and mentions of the upcoming holiday belied his actual feelings and besides, Louise wanted him to feel special. Wanted him to know they’d been thinking of him as much as he must have missed being home. It wasn’t until the 27th of November and the slightest of snowfalls had occurred, tiny little snowflakes, delicately falling down when the temperature had dropped just enough for the rain to crystallise when a flash of inspiration hit her. She couldn’t send it, so instead she’d waited patiently, adding to her bundle throughout the months. Now that it was almost time to give it though she was second-guessing that two year decision. Was it too juvenile? It’s just so tricky to buy for the man who literally has anything he could ever wish for. As the festive period hurtles on she resigns herself to having to hunt for a back-up gift…maybe a nice sweater. Maybe that will do. Or maybe it’s best to have options.

Elvis’ melancholia about the holiday doesn’t seem to stretch into Christmas Eve, and he encourages them with all the enthusiasm he’s ever had. The party starts from mid-afternoon and stretches long into the evening and night with all the makings of an excellent time from the music to the food until eventually they all find themselves around the extravagant tree to exchange presents. It’s a little chaotic, so many people about and frequently someone’s having to dive from room to room to fetch people or hidden gifts. Louise finds it almost dizzying when she finally manages to take a seat on the long sofa, catching her breath from being sent to find someone. She was already finding herself struggling to think whenever she glanced over at Elvis - he looked outrageously good in a white shirt, black trousers - well, he looked outrageously good all the time at the moment - but there was something about the feeling in the air of the day that made it all the harder to act natural around him. Elvis had been quiet for a moment, but now he was sat on his armchair across the room, looking for all the world like a king on a throne ready to bestow his generosity on the peasants. Except, that’s not the feeling in the room at all; it’s jolly and wonderful, picture perfect - all of them slightly tipsy on champagne and vodka cocktails and finding the evening all the more entertaining for it. He announces he wants to give the presents that he’s bought everyone before he opens his own, and Louise dips her eyes when he hands her a little bow-tied box. No-one else’s comes with a ribbon and she strokes it, feeling a glow emanating from her stomach and chest as she imagines his nimble fingers tying it on, totally ignoring the fact that she knows someone else probably wrapped it for him. Still, she tugs it off to hide from the others - not wanting to be teased about how such a little gesture has made her blush so strongly - and tucks it into her palm, fully intending on slipping it into her shoe or around her wrist in a moment, knowing she’ll keep it forever - wear it in her hair like a declaration.

When she looks back up everyone has a similar box and she opens it quickly in case they’re all the same - she doesn’t want to ruin her surprise. There, nestled in a little velvet box is a ring, a huge, gaudy red stone in the centre, almost too big for her finger. Louise is transfixed, staring at it, barely a thought in her head as she tries to wrap her head around the way it sparkles in the light. Despite the size of the gem, the band was more than a little small when she tries to slip it on, and she quietly puts it back into the box, not wanting to draw attention to her apparently larger than expected fingers. She glances around, suddenly coming out of her shocked obliviousness. Her face falling when she realises that everyone around her is unboxing similarly precious jewellery. She’s resigning herself to having to sneak it off to get it resized and hating herself a little for it, wondering if there are exercises she could do or maybe a special diet to shrink her fingers to size, when she suddenly realises all the other girls are turning each-other around, kissing Elvis on the cheek in thanks, or asking him to clasp their new necklaces. Louise looks back down at her box and the others. What does a ring mean? It’s been gifted with such casualness that it can’t possibly mean anything can it? When she looks back up Elvis is staring right at her, and she makes eye contact with him - her wide eyes meeting his laughing ones. He winks, and turns back to Red. She tries her best to distract herself from it, ooh and aahing over everyone else’s and keeping quiet about the little box clutched tight in her hand.

Half hour later Elvis is admiring his own little haul, when he catches her eye again,

“You forget about me Lou?” Louise cringes at being called out so publicly,

“Of course not!” She looks around the room, at the large group gathered there, “No, uh, why don’t you, well I’ve gotten you something else….It’s a sweater. It’s not great really, but I… your real gift I’ve made you, but,” She swallows building her courage, unsure why she’s so nervous suddenly when she’d been so excited for so long; the whole idea just seemed juvenile and silly now. “… you’ve gotta follow me for it.” He stares into her eyes for a second, before nodding and standing up, gesturing at her as if to say ‘lead the way’.

He grins at the boys when they walk out, making a salacious movement as if to suggest her gift may not be all too family-friendly to accompanying guffaws of laughter. She ignores it, even as her tummy churns; should she be offering that? Is that what he wants these days?

“Don’t laugh.” She asks nervously as they walk into the little pantry. Elvis looks bemused to find himself there, leaning against the wall of the tiny space

“I won’t” Louise nods, shutting the door, only to hear Elvis giggle, “You tryin’ to get me alone, doll?”

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“One hell of a christmas present! to be locked in a cupboard with a pretty little gal.”

She rolls her eyes, wiggling past him to get to the freezer,

“Close your eyes.” He obediently does so, and she reaches into an old box of ice-cream to pull out a Tupperware, “Hold your hands out.” And she puts it in his cupped fingers, “Ok…open.” He blinks down at the Tupperware.

“Um. Well, thanks, I’m uh, sure this will be useful.” Louise rolls her eyes, impatiently tugging off the lid herself, “Oh.” Elvis goes silent, staring at the three perfect, teeny snowballs balanced in the tub. Each resting upon a little piece of paper with Louise’s very best cursive handwriting spelling out the date; December 12th 1958, 18th November 1959, and 20th December 1960.

The silence stretches as Elvis stares at the box, and Louise starts to ramble nervously, “I was starting to panic this year, but at least I’d thought to pick some up back in January — it snowed so heavy on the 5th. I think it was, or maybe the 15th? I’ll have to check my diary… so I mean it isn’t entirely accurate that it’s all from the 20th - but I mean, I had to have something and well I know how much you loved it when, when your mother… and I wanted you to know I’ve been thinkin’ of you non-stop while you were away. So, here, the first snow from the garden from every year you missed.” Elvis is still staring at the box, one finger poking each little round ball.

“This really snow from two years ago?”

“Uh-huh… I mean I don’t know what you’re gonna do with it now, but it really is… been in that box in the freezer this whole time…I hid it from everyone. Every time someone said they wanted some ice cream I panicked.”

“Lou.”

“‘M sorry this is really stupid, god - what are you gonna do with some snowballs, I should’ve gone in with the other girls, got you something really good… I just - well, I thought you’d like it and I know you misse-”

“Baby, I don’t, I don’t know what to say. I… I didn’t think anyone would think of me like this, like mama did, ever again. I - well, thank you, Lou darling, this is, well, its the best damn gift I’ve ever gotten.” He grabs her arm, tugging her to him - pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, the force of it surprising her. “I’m gonna show everyone - c’mon - quick before they melt.” He runs out of the kitchen, leaving Louise to follow meekly behind.

He shows them off like he’s a new father, proudly holding them up in the box, delicately picking one of them up and sighing at it, holding it up at the light for everyone to marvel at. It’s a little ridiculous in some ways - everyone in the room had been gifted something hugely lavish, and yet the thing everyone was talking and gossiping at was a snowball.

Hours later the party finally winds down enough that Louise realises she’s one of the last few stragglers of a night so late it’s turned into Christmas morning. How she’d ended up in this position she’ll never know, and she questions it herself as she stands quietly in the doorway, watching Elvis fumble on the piano. Just his fiddling is beautiful, little snippets of remembered carols, before he hammers onto the keys, singing along to Santa Claus is Back in Town. Louise can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes her and he looks up at her, smiling almost teasingly, perfect glint in his eye as he pauses for a second to run a hand through his hair before he continues for another verse and a half. He stops almost abruptly, standing up to stretch before turning to her. She’s trying to find the words to explain how beautiful it was, how perfect he sounds - how she can feel it throughout her whole being, but before she can express those sentiments he’s in front of her and grasping her hand.

“C’mon,” He tugs her over to the armchair he’d been sat in earlier in the evening, “Over here hon, that’s it - you’re the last.” Elvis throws himself onto the chair, holding onto her, pulling her stumbling body against his. “You’re the last of my girls left…” He sighs melodramatically and Louise giggles uncontrollably back at him. She’d had an illicit two glasses and a half of champagne earlier in the evening; Elvis had playfully wagged his finger at her as she’d accepted it from Red although she’d seen him have more than a few drinks himself. She can feel the bubbles still settling into her tummy and head, fuzzing her thoughts a little and making her giggly and affectionate. Still, she wasn’t so tipsy she couldn’t call out his overdramatic behaviour.

“They’ve just gone home for the night. They’ll be back tomorrow I’m sure.” She shakes her head. He ignores her, crying out,

“I’m all alone!” He tugs her by her elbow, catching her as she stumbles into his lap, pulling her onto him, flattening her wide skirt. It wasn’t really the fashion anymore but while she’d been momentarily hesitant about her holiday dress she wasn’t self-conscious, and she liked how it made her shape look. Some might suggest the bow and petticoats were juvenile, but it made her feel more adult than the tighter styles that were starting to become popular with her peers, more herself than playing dress-up.

She snuggles under his arm, head pillowed on his chest, cheeks pressed against the little buttons of his shirt. He pretends to choke at her hair brushing his nose, using his free hand to flatten it under his chin and she grins, shivering against him as his breath tickles her skin. They stay cuddled for a few moments, sinking into the kind of happy exhaustion that seems to only occur on holidays. It feels different than before, although Elvis is more similarly carefree than she’d seen him in a long time. He’d grown up a lot over the years she hadn’t seen him, or so it felt, and his adultness didn’t match the image of him playing and fooling around that she had in her head. It’s an awful feeling, she thinks, that even with him right there, surrounding her, she still longs for a little more of the playfulness of the past.

Suddenly though Elvis shifts, interrupting her thoughts and murmuring against the top of her head,

“Y’hear that?” Louise stops breathing, and all she can hear is the solid thump-thump of his heart against her ear, he waits a second but she can’t work out what he’s referring to and doesn’t respond, he gasps “There it is again! Do you hear it?”

Louise shakes her head against him, frowning a little, “No?” She tries really hard to listen out, but other than the faintest hint of the music from the boys in the other room she can’t hear a thing. “The music?”

“No! No, listen.” He puts his finger to his lips, shushing her,

“I really don’t hear anything Elvis.” He wraps his arm around her waist a little tighter, tugging her up so she was sat more upright on his knee, her face close to his. He whispers into her ear,

“I think I hear hooves…” Louise frowns,

“Hooves!?” God, it would be just her luck that he’d gone and bought her a horse or something, and she’d have to act grateful even though she was terrified of them.

“Mmhmm, that’s right.” His hand rises up to brush across her back gently, fingertips dancing around her side, “Hooves. Hooves and bells.” He pauses for dramatic effect, jabbing his finger into her side in a tickling poke. His voice dips lower, as his arm squeezes around her, “Someone must have been a good girl this year.”

Louise grins when she realises what he’s implying and couldn’t bring herself not to play along.

“…You think it’s Santa Claus?!”

“Hmm, definitely…who else would it be, on the roof with hooves and bells on Christmas eve?” She giggles, both in response to his kind-natured teasing and his fingers poking her side with an exaggerated motion.

“Oh, I wonder what he’ll leave in my stocking…” Elvis hums against her hair,

“Mmm. Coal.”

“Nooo!” She giggles back to him, “You just said I’ve been a good girl!”

“You’ve been a very good little girl.” His voice has hit that low pitch that immediately sends a jolt down her spine, right into the pit of her stomach and she swallows, trying to keep up with the joke.

“Well, I’m, uh, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is.”

“Mmhmm….” His hand brushes up her leg, “Bet ya I’ll like what’s in your stockings more…”

“Elvis!” She shrieks, playfully batting his hand away, he pulls it off of her, smoothing down her skirt, and resting it onto her lap for a moment. Louise feels her breath catching as he presses a kiss to the side of her head, brushing her hair out of the way and shifting her on his thigh so that she’s facing him. It’s almost a struggle for her to meet his eyes, she felt so desperate for his attention - but there was nowhere else to look that made her feel any less heated. His hair, god even his eyebrows were Elvis-enough to make her squirm. It’s only a second of him kissing her jaw, before she’s gasping for him, and before she knows what she’s doing she’s grabbing his hand and shoving it back on her thigh.

She’d kept herself for him, even as it felt that she’d been playing before, doing it for someone who would never notice or care - ostensibly in general, but really if she was truthful - for him. She’d touched herself, hadn’t been able to resist the temptation, especially after his deep voice came through the phone - but the other boys, the boys in school, the ones with blue collar jobs and careers, had all lost their appeal whenever she imagined kissing them, and her imagination interposed the image and feeling of him, his slippery body in the pool, the feel of him in front of her on the bike. He was thinner now, even still, than he was before, puppy fat replaced with lean muscles. His face shape changed just the tiniest bit, perhaps unnoticeable to some, but so very obvious to her, cheekbones and chin more angular than before. But his lips feel the same as they did before he left, and since his return home - she’d expected they’d have lost their eager nature, but still she can feel the hint of desperation as he presses them against her jaw.

She gasps, rocking against him as he roves down her neck - a place no one else has ever touched, tiny points of pressure feeling like a heat was expanding across her neck and chest, matching the clench of her thighs. His hand gently strokes up her stockings before he hitches her up, capturing his mouth with hers and shoving her underlayers up to her waist in the abrupt movement. Louise moves with him, desperate to stay in contact with his lips and she moans in upset when he starts to pull away.

“C’mon baby,” He whispers, “C’mon, Lou-Lou let me - let me say thank you,” He’s barely audible as he speaks against her lips between pressing bruising kisses onto them, “I just - wanna, wanna make you feel good, Lou doll.” She gasps out her agreement, eyes falling closed and her head falling into his shoulder as his fingers find their way to rub against the silk of her underwear. He shifts her again, balancing her so she can rock against his thigh and his hand, whilst also rubbing her leg against his covered crotch. Louise is almost surprised at the heat of him against her thigh, but her curiosity has no chance to be satisfied when he hooks a finger under the leg band of her panties, totally distracting her from anything but the feel of him under her and attempting to stay somewhat upright. His finger feels softer than she’d imagined, and yet, in comparison to her own the pads feel foreign, rougher and surer than hers ever were sliding into the wetness they find there.

“God, you’re so soft baby, so fucking soft in here, perfect for me, you been waiting on me, honey?”

“Uh-huh, waited, waited so long for you Elvis - didn’t, I didn’t want anyone but you.” He groans in response, his fingers moving faster. Until he’s forced to stop, tangled in the fabric and he growls in frustration. Louise feels it go straight down her body, and her thighs clench, trapping his hand even more. He pauses for barely a second to manhandle her up, just enough to roughly tug her panties down enough that it’s now entirely her bare skin rubbing against his hand and clothed thigh, the fibres of his trousers almost giving her a friction burn with her rapid movements. He continues as he was a second earlier, but now with far easier access he’s able to swipe his fingers across her clit, taking her to the edge almost immediately. She has no idea if this was something he’s always done well, or if this is a trick he’d picked up while he was away, but whatever the reason she was grateful. She doesn’t even consider how they were still, essentially, in public, too distracted by his slender fingers to be concerned about her now partial nudity. The only noise to break up their combined breathy moans is the layers of of taffeta rustling between them, as she continues to rock against his thigh, but this all changes when he delves his thumb into her wetness, bringing it back up to stroke circles on her clit, gently but repeatedly running it over her.

“Oh, Elvis?” She cries out,

“What baby? You’re so - I can feel you’re close,” His own breathing is getting heavier, and he holds her steady with his other hand grasping her thigh while his thumb continues to stroke her,

“I don’t - I don’t…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say, and before she manages to turn it into a complete sentence she’s shaking on him as she rides out her orgasm. He sees her through it, continuing to stroke her with the same pressure before rapidly shoving his hand down his own pants, roughly rubbing himself off to quick completion. She watches him closely, unable to do anything but stare as his own eyes slide closed, head falling back against the couch and mouth opening as he gasps out a high-pitched moan. It was about enough to make her shudder again against his thigh, the look on his face, his mussed hair, open collar and the noises of sheer pleasure. Louise finds herself bouncing on his chest as he breathes rapidly from the effort, and he holds her tight for a few moments while they both regain use of their limbs. Louise feels almost a little shell-shocked and she only really comes to her senses when Elvis shifts, wiping his hand on his trousers with a grimace and patting her thigh,

“Gosh that was, I, um, thank you El,” He grins at her, clearly pleased with his success, and he pats her leg again,

“Thank you, honey, for just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me earlier baby, it was just - I’m gonna treasure them snowballs forever, you’ll see.” She grins back at him before an unstoppable yawn takes over her face, “C’mon lil girl, time for bed.” She gulps, thinking about all the people on the house - worrying what will happen next,

“D’you…where am I gonna sleep?” Elvis frowns, little furrowed line marring his previously relaxed face,

“With me?”

“Oh,” Louise swallows, “Um, I think my parents will be expecting me - you know, Christmas morning’s all about -“

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll drop you home at the crack of dawn,” He winks, “-gotta make sure the house is all in order in any case anyway.” Elvis pauses, “Or, or you could invite your mama and pops over. They’d be more than welcome…nothing my mama liked more than a full house - especially at Christmas.” He’s looking at her with that earnest little boy expression again and it takes everything in her not to just suggest she should stay forever, it was so absurd that he’d want her to stay, instead of the other way around.

“Well…maybe I could stay. And, well, I mean, I could come over in the evening? If you swear you’ll make sure I get home in time -“ He’s quick to interject,

“Cross my heart darling,” She hums at him, and he motions the crossing of his heart across his chest, solemnly holding eye contact, “I swear.”

“Ok then, I’d love to stay.”

Somehow, and (despite his promises) to Louise’s surprise, she’s dutifully shaken awake and dropped off home, albeit not by Elvis himself, only a few very short hours later. Coming up the driveway of her childhood home it feels almost inconceivable that she should have spent the day and night how she has, and she wonders for a brief moment if she hadn’t knocked her head or something and just hallucinated the whole affair. She’s so in her thoughts that she doesn’t yet notice, as she traipses past the lounge and kitchen where she can hear her mother singing to quickly change, a new set of boxes under the Christmas tree. Elvis’ script on the gift tags declaring “To Louise, a very good girl, from Santa.”

taglist: (it's been so long that I've lost the list for this verse - lmk if you want to be added, or taken off!)

@lialocklear @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @thatbanditquee @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @shakerattlescroll

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #be-my-ally #splashing around #elvis x louise

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olenvasynyt · 4 months ago

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The discussion of choice with Elucien & comparing Elain's choice to Outlander

Something that has become a popular topic recently is this idea of choice when discussing Elucien and their mating bond: that Elain should be allowed the option of rejecting the mating bond with Lucien. And we can skip past this morality test people (E/riels) often like to make...let's just talk about it from a fictional standpoint and how this idea of choice is a popular trope in fantasy media. Because guess what! Elain is fictional. Lucien is fictional. Their bond is fictional.

This idea of choice has been in the books since Lucien first whispered that Elain is his mate at the Cauldron. Lucien whispering that she is his mate during the most traumatic moment of her life was a rash decision on his part. He said it out of shock, because he thought Jesminda was his mate and died before the bond could snap. But the interesting thing about that (and something that E/riels either deny or don't like bringing up) is that he has given her the option of choice since that moment and beyond. In fact, I think she has more room for choice than her sisters did, because unlike them, she has known the truth from the very beginning. Unlike Feyre, because Rhys knew she was his mate but didn’t tell her. And that was for a lot of reasons but it did serve himself, he didn’t her to push him away because of that knowledge before she could get to know him. She and Nesta were forced to be in the same room as their mates.

Lucien has been giving Elain space to choose. He is cautious around her, because he sees that she is uncomfortable, that he fucked up, that she might resent him for allying with Hybern even though it wasn’t his fault and he did things to counteract that.

I totally think that Lucien will give Elain the room to reject the mating bond, maybe even suggest it. And this brings me to something that happens in Outlander because yes, I have to make more comparisons between Elucien and Outlander because if you didn’t know, SJM is obsessed with outlander and used Jamie as inspiration for Lucien.

This is spoilers for S1 E11:

Claire finally tells Jamie that she is from the future, that she accidentally traveled through the stones to the current timeline of the 1700s.

This was a huge pivitoal moment, it was a secret Claire had been keeping for a while and Jamie finally understood who she is, why she acts the way she acts, and that she has been wanting to get back to her old life.

And he takes her back to the stones.

Quote from the show:

"It's what you wanted. Aye? What you've always wanted...to go home." "It's your own time on the other side of that stone. You've a home there, a place, the things you're used to. And Frank. There's nothing for you on this side. Nothing save violence and danger."

He tells her that it would be good for her to go back. It’s her own time, it’s the things she’s used to. "There’s nothing for you on this side. Nothing save violence and danger."

He says goodbye to her and expects her to go through the stones because it is what he believes she wants.

He leaves her at the stones and goes down in the valley to make a fire for the night and is ready to leave in the morning, and she comes and chooses him.

She says “take me home to Lallybroch”.

I compare Jamie and Claire to Lucien and Elain quite often: SJM says that Lucien is inspired by Jamie and I think this could be just one of those similarities. They are both selfless. They sacrifice their health, wants and needs for other people, even if it's so painful for them. Their love is unconditional. So I'm like...is this not something that Lucien would do for Elain? He sees that she is possibly uncomfortable and not interested. She misses the life she once had as a human, and she might be getting more comfortable with the IC and the Night Court.

I can imagine him and Elain finally getting to know each other but Elain still hides her feelings for him, she is cautious to accept her mating bond because it would mean she accepts this fae life, and he is kind enough to accept her rejecting the mating bond if she wants to. He could say it's too dangerous for her to be mated to him, that she won't have a life with him because he's an outcast with no title. He is struggling to find a home.

But Elain ends up choosing him.

The agency of choice is such a fascinating (and frustrating) thing to talk about when discussing the mating bond and it’s interesting how people talk about it when it comes to Elain because her choosing Lucien can be written in such an interesting way. We can have this with Elucien: SJM can discuss Elain’s reluctancy, her complex feelings for Lucien and being fae and the trauma she’s experienced. It’s reluctant mates, mutual pining, suppressing feelings, all popular tropes in the romance genre.

Yes, she could choose Azriel instead. She could choose to have no male in her life at all and leave the Night Court entirely. And she choose Lucien. She could learn who her mate is, how good of a male he is, she could explore her feelings and why she is reacting the way she’s reacting, why she’s staying away, and she could choose him.

This is a summary of my tiktok video, you can check me out on there! :)

#pro elucien #elucien #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #please watch outlander if you're an Elucien #DO IT #I PROMISE ITS AMAZING AND SO MUCH LIKE ELUCIEENNNNNN #dana metas #outlander

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calico-heart · 5 months ago

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I've been musing about vampire lore in BG3 and a few fan theories floating around about Astarion, so I decided to do some lore-digging myself. This is mostly about Spawn free-will and the possibility of Vampire Brides/Grooms. If you're really into Astarion you've probably seen this all before lol

5e posits that there are "Vampires" and "Vampire Spawn." In the Monster Manual it claims:

Most of a vampire's victims become vampire spawn -- ravenous creatures with a vampire's hunger for blood, but under the control of the vampire that created them. If a true vampire allows a spawn to draw blood from its own body, the spawn transforms into a true vampire no longer under its master's control. Few vampires are willing to relinquish control in this manner. Vampire spawn become free-willed when their creator dies.

Which lines up pretty well with what Astarion says about Cazador and the nature of belonging to him.

Since the spawn in BG3 have the wherewithal to despise their master and Astarion made attempts in the past to defy him, I assume free will and independent thought aren't the same thing, here... but it does leave some grey area that I'm especially interested in.

Astarion was sent out to bring victims home. When he tries to help one escape, he's not just acting independently, he's directly defying Cazador's command. And Astarion doesn't attribute his later obedience to being compelled... he attributes it to the abuse he suffered for defying.

That just doesn't sound like Cazador has full unfettered control to me. Now, it's possible he allows some agency to his Spawn out of cruelty and just tortures them when they misbehave for fun. It's possible that the sheer number of spawn (7000) Cazador has makes them difficult to simultaneously control. I think that's all super valid.

But if we dial back to 2e and Van Richten's Guide to Vampires, there's some really cool lore there to consider. And while BG3 is based primarily on 5e lore and my inclination is to take the 5e interpretation when it makes more sense to, I don't think it's a stretch to imagine that 2e vampire lore at least served as inspiration for certain BG3 elements.

Progenitor and Offspring (pg.69)

(emphasis added)

Conventional wisdom is categorical on one point: newly-formed vampires are slaves of the creatures that created them, with no free will of their own. Even one of the most reputable tomes on the subject repeats this: "Once they become undead, the new vampire is under the complete control of its killer." But how true is this? And what constraints are there on the control that does exist? For the first days or weeks of a Fledgling vampire's existence, it is highly susceptible to the orders of its creator—so I have discovered from my research. IF there is no telepathic bond between creator and created, then the master vampire must be in the vicinity, and must be willing to communicate with its offspring. How, then, do vampires keep their slaves under their control beyond this period? They do so in much the same way that mortals dominate others: through intimidation. The fledgling is new to the vampiric world, and at least partially ignorant of its own abilities. lts creator can, if it is careful, create the perception in its offspring that the master is immensely more powerful and knowledgeable than the newly-created vampire, which it may in fact be. Through simple intimidation and by playing on the offspring's natural doubts and fears, the master can create a situation enabling it to rule for decades. The reader may realize that this situation is totally different and much more unstable than the "traditional" picture of the master and its unquestioning slaves. Offspring vampires may have considerable free will from the moment of their creation, although they do have an inborn propensity to bow to the will of their creator. After several years have passed, however, this propensity wears off. The Journal entry that opened this chapter indicates the risks that accompany creating an offspring vampire, The "master" must keep the intimidation level high and discipline tight. If the offspring senses weakness in its master, it may consider challenging for dominance or simply fleeing. As time passes the offspring vampire will learn more about its own strengths, and probably more about its master's weaknesses. As soon as the offspring believes that it may be able to defeat its master, the two creatures will almost certainly come into conflict. Of course, the majority of vampires will destroy their offspring before this point is reached. Some, however, will send them away, officially granting them their freedom. (This is merely another psychological trick, If an offspring vampire is "freed" before it realizes it can depose its "master" it may feel some gratitude toward its creator.) The vast majority of vampires view their offspring simply as disposable tools, to be used and then discarded [...] Vampires differ in their motivations when creating offspring. Some [...] do it to create slaves for themselves. [...] When a vampire is destroyed, all semblance of control over its offspring immediately vanishes, Most offspring will immediately go about their own business [...]

This... makes a lot of practical sense. There's nothing in the 5e page about vampire and spawn that claims an inherent telepathic link, so Cazador is most likely using intimidation as a means of control. And Astarion having the ability to attempt to disobey something he knew he was expected to do only makes sense if he can, actually, challenge Cazador's commands. There's a difference between scheming for personal gain in the margins of what your master did or didn't say, and outright doing something contrary to what he sent you out to do.

So I'm led to two possible (and not-mutually-exclusive) conclusions:

Spawn DO have free will and Cazador's control is based primarily on intimidation and torture.

Cazador has access to a variety of mind-bending spells that he uses to convince his Spawn they are universally beholden to him on the basis of being his creations. i.e. He lied about the source of that magical authority.

But! But!! I hear you say! The 2e guidebook talks about Vampire Fledglings up there, not Spawn. Correct!

I've seen no evidence of Spawn in 2e. Anyone killed by being drained of blood becomes a Fledgling. Vice versa, there are no Fledgling Vampires in 5e, either. The method for making a Spawn is the same as a 2e Fledgling. (p32)

In 2e, Fledglings just get more powerful as they age (p13), while in 5e, Spawn must be fed their Master's blood to raise themselves up.

So it's not a 1:1 correlation, which is worth considering if you hate the idea of all of this. It's just speculation, and I suspect it will always remain fanon because in a roleplaying game it's more important to give players agency than it is to give them immutable answers. If you don't like it, don't use it!

Ok Ok but what about the Bride Stuff?

Firstly, Ascended Astarion makes several claims.

He was forced to obey Cazador because of being a Spawn

He turned you into a Spawn (source)

He has Ascended, but it will take time and practice for him to utilize all the tools available to an Ascended Vampire (source)

You are not allowed to leave him (source)

Of these, I think only the third one can be reasonably assumed to be inarguable fact. The others may be true. They may not be.

And whether you are a bride/groom or not, it's possible that even without the Tadpole you may have free will as a default, or else as a consequence of Astarion not being able to compel you (yet) because he's not experienced enough. He may also be reluctant to harm you the same way Cazador harmed him to maintain authority.

If you accept that Cazador used personal magic to compel his Spawn, Astarion may lack that ability. Astarion may not know that Cazador was using magic. Cazador can lie, and would have reasonably done so to maintain control of his Spawn.

If you don't buy into Spawn having free-will at all without intervention... well, since Astarion supplanted the ritual as a Spawn, he may have only gained the powers Mephistopheles promised in the Ritual, and not other traditional Vampire talents... like compelling his Spawn.

Lots of angles to play with, there!

Now, while I do really enjoy the fanon of Ascended Astarion making his lover a Bride... if it's based on 2e rules, the Dark Kiss is implied to be more complicated than this:

(p72) To actually create the bride, the vampire bestows what is known as the "Dark Kiss." It samples the blood of its mortal paramour—once, twice, thrice—draining her almost to the point of death. This process causes the subject no pain; in fact, it has been described as the most euphoric, ecstatic experience, in comparison to which ail other pleasures fade into insignificance. Just as the subject is about to slip into the terminal coma from which there is no awakening, the vampire opens a gash in its own flesh—often in its throat—and holds the subject’s mouth to the wound. As the burning draught that is the vampire’s blood gushes into the subject’s mouth, the primitive feeding instinct is triggered, and she sucks hungrily at the wound, enraptured. With the first taste of the blood, the subject is possessed of great and frenzied strength, and will use it to prevent the vampire from separating her from the fountain of wonder that is its bleeding wound. [...] Once the subject has stopped feeding, she falls into a coma that lasts minutes or hours, at the end of which time she dies. Several hours later, she arises as a Fledgling vampire—and her creator’s bride.

Being turned by him can hurt. And he only gives you a single drop of blood instead of letting you feed off him as the Ritual describes. It's possible, but doesn't seem entirely likely since you don't also explicitly get any Bride-related perks like telepathic speech between each other post-Tadpoles.

Since he gives you his blood before you die, and 5e's description refers to Spawn drinking their master's blood, not pre-Spawn, I don't think he turned you into a True Vampire, either... but it's vague enough that there's room for interpretation.

So why the blood-feeding? Possibly to create doubt for players and allow them to interpret it in various ways. My personal inclination is to believe the PC becomes a Spawn, but that being fed some of his blood pre-death allowed him to offer some of his powers to you like daylight protection (he mentions sending out dark fog to protect the rest of his Spawn someday, so this benefit appears exclusive to you or otherwise limited.)

But since it's fun to explore possibilities, I'm still thinking about what being a Bride might entail if it were true and that's what he did.

2e considers all newborn vampires Fledgling, including Brides... and both of these have free will by default. There is no context within 2e lore to imply that Brides would somehow be superior to Spawn on the basis of being superior to Fledglings, because they are not superior to Fledglings except for two things. Brides don't feel the aforementioned "propensity to bow to the will of their creator" that Fledglings initially contend with and later outgrow. And (more an inferiority) Brides are not born with any innate sense of how to survive as vampires.

Although there are some folk tales that describe the bride of a vampire as its slave, in much the same way that offspring are slaves, a bride is free-willed from the moment of her creation. The creator vampire does have great influence over the bride, however, although this control is totally nonmagical. When a vampire is created in the traditional manner—that is, when a victims life energy is completely drained away—the new fledgling instinctively understands much about the vampiric way of unlife, and about its own strengths, weaknesses, and needs. Not so the bride. Newly-created brides are generally ignorant of their own capabilities. lf in Life they heard folk tales and myths about vampires, they might have some vague conception, but often these tales are totally wrong. The bride is effectively dependent—totally dependent—on her creator, to learn how to survive as a vampire. This obviously gives the creator great power over the bride. By lying to her or bending the truth, he can convince her that she must obey his every order or suffer horrible consequences. With time, and through experimentation, the bride might find out the true level of control her creator has over her—that is, none.

So, in my thinking, if Spawn can be compelled... Brides probably can, too. If Spawn have free will, Brides probably do, too. But that distinction lies entirely in personal preference, since the game never outright says you are a Bride/Groom, only implies that you are a Spawn.

Possibility Astarion is Incorrect, or Lying

If you'll remember before all this Bride nonsense, I mentioned a few things Astarion claims that may not be entirely accurate. We've already poked at the idea Spawn might have more free will than Astarion purports. But what about claiming you're a Spawn? And that you can't leave him?

He never visibly compels you, though he implies that he could and not doing so is simply a choice when you attempt to challenge him. Maybe he can be taken at his word. But with everything in this post set up to establish doubt about a Vampire's inherent ability to control any being it created through methods other than manipulation and the threat of violence... I'm thinking no. He actually can't.

And so. TL;DR I think the reasons for that could reasonably be ANY or multiple of the following:

2e elements are blended into the 5e lore: Spawn do have free will, but their masters work very hard to make them think they don't. -

5e is entirely misleading and 2e is Larian's intent: Spawn are True Vampires, they just are kept in line through ignorance, violence, and guile, about the opportunities available to them. -

Astarion does not know how to compel his Spawn to obey him because he isn't practiced enough with his new skills. -

Astarion is an Ascended Spawn, not an Ascended Vampire, and only got the specific powers described in the ritual contract. -

Astarion did turn the PC into a Vampire but is lying about it to make them think they're a Spawn. -

Astarion turned the PC into a Bride/Groom and is lying to make them think they have to obey him.

#bg3 #meta #long post #astarion #ascended astarion #act III spoilers

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