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halfvalid · 1 year ago

Text

pretty in that

ABOUT

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro

author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!

You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze.

Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too.

“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling.

“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?”

Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded.

“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?”

“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it.

“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.”

“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh.

“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.”

“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?”

“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy.

“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.”

“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?”

“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?”

“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face.

“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder.

“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.

“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.”

Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.”

“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.”

Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?”

“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”

“Not really what I’m into.”

“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”

“Three swords, three earrings.”

“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?”

“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day.

“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on.

You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled.

“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said.

You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.”

Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?”

“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?”

“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.”

“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?”

“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?”

“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.”

“You always look nice.”

You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.”

Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.”

Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said.

“Better how?”

“You can probably run in it.”

You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep.

Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on.

To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.”

Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty?

He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs.

You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from.

“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened.

“Because of… clothing?”

You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?”

“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until—

Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling.

Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size.

You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising.

Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.”

You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it.

Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.

Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—”

“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.”

‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?”

“Yeah,” you said, voice limp.

“Let me see.”

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively.

“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.”

“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—”

“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

“Oh.”

Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.”

There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point.

You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Am not.”

Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”

“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.

“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.”

You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.”

“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins.

“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”

Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”

“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid.

“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—”

“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.”

Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.”

“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him.

“I said you looked pretty in this one.”

“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—”

“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.”

Your breath caught.

“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?”

“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.”

You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!”

Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart.

“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.”

“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline.

“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.”

“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.

You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go.

“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change.

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iuchamjohta · 3 months ago

Text

A magic touch ft Seulgi

Word count: 9036 Tags: Thressome, Double penetration, Anal, Squirting, spitroast, vibrators, overstimulation, use of blindfold, armpit kink, a little bit of feet.

Longest fic ever of smut! Hope yall enjoy it. Seeing her fancon pics and vid made me just had to write about her. See ends for more notes The final notes of ‘Cosmic Love’, Red Velvet’s last encore song reverberated through the stadium, the lights dimmed, leaving the crowd mesmerised at the captivating performance.

A sea of applause and cheers was heard. The stage was a riot of colour and sound, and the energy in the air was almost tangible. Seulgi stood with the other members of her band, sweat glistening on their faces, her hearts pounding from the adrenaline and the sheer joy of the performance. She had just given her all for what she believed, was another stunning performance. After catching her breath, Seulgi gathered at the front of the stage, hands clasped together as her group said their final thanks and took a bow. The audience’s roar was deafening, and she felt a wave of appreciation washed over her. Her band waved, smiled, and exchanged grateful glances, soaking in the moment. The connection between them and their fans felt like a beautiful, unspoken bond. She couldn't have asked for a more incredible audience. As the final applause began to fade, Seulgi exited the stage, her steps heavy but her spirits high.

The backstage area was a hive of activity—roadies packing up equipment, crew members tidying up, and fellow artists exchanging congratulatory hugs. She felt a pang of exhaustion as she walked through the corridor leading to her dressing room. Once inside, Seulgi slumped onto the couch with a grateful sigh, but her relief was short-lived. The soreness in her muscles was impossible to ignore. After consecutive concerts that they had, it has finally taken a toll on her body. She tried to stretch, but each movement seemed to amplify the stiffness in her legs and shoulders. Seulgi grimaced and leaned back, wondering if there was a way she could magically make the pains in her body go away.

“Unnie, are you okay?” Yeri, ever observant, came over and plopped down next to Seulgi. Her eyes were full of concern as she watched Seulgi struggle to find a comfortable position. Seulgi managed a weary smile “Yeah, I’m fine, all that dancing and jumping really took its toll tonight” This was expected. Afterall, Seulgi was a born performer, she pours her heart and soul into every movement, each dance step a testament to her dedication and passion. Her flawless execution of her powerful dance moves and boundless energy never fails to captivate the audience and turn the stage into a breathtaking spectacle. “It seems, you are getting old Unnie, the magical 30 have caught up to you” Yeri teased. “Hey! I’m still youthful and energetic” Seulgi pouted, as she attempted to move, a wince of discomfort crossed her face, revealing just how sore she was. The sight of her struggling to keep up her appearances despite her aching muscles was both endearing and a bit comical, making her look even more charming in her vulnerability.

Yeri chuckled at the sight before her cute Unnie. “I’ve got something that would help you a lot,” Yeri said as she reached into her bag to pull out a business-card-sized-envelope.” Seulgi's eyes lit up upon hearing this, her eyes tracing every movement of her younger member. “What is this?” She took the card from Yeri’s hands and glanced at it. The elegant script on the front read, “A magic touch.” Written below that was Y/N, the contact details and a note that said, “The best massage for tired muscles.” “Request for Y/N, he is the best one out there” Yeri said. “Oh and tell the receptionist that I sent you and you want the Yeri’s special,” Yeri added. “ Yeri’s special? What’s that” Seulgi raised an eyebrow, intrigued at the weird request.” “It’s nothing much! They just make sure to pay more attention to you since I’m a regular” Yeri smirked to a clueless Seulgi, oblivious of what was about to unfold. "I'm all sweaty and haven't showered yet. It’s going to be late by the time I finish all that—will I still have time to make it to the massage?" Seulgi whined. "Don’t worry about that—they’ll take care of everything for you! I always go there after our concerts,” Yeri reassured her. Seulgi remembered how Yeri would often head off alone after performances and return to their apartment looking refreshed and rejuvenated, as if she were a completely new person. That was more than enough to convince Seulgi, to trust her maknae. Assuming there would be showering facilities at the parlor, Seulgi gathered her things and asked her manager to drive her to the address on the card.

The drive felt lengthy as Seulgi nervously fumbled with the black and gold business card in her hand. "Best massage out there," she muttered, hoping it wasn’t just a marketing gimmick. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, and when she reopened them, they had arrived. The manager pulled up to the front, and Seulgi double-checked the address before getting out. The massage centre was housed in a stately building with an elegant facade, its grandeur illuminated by soft, ambient lighting. The entrance was adorned with lush greenery and delicate string lights that cast a warm, inviting glow. Seulgi walked towards the entrance, her tired muscles already anticipating the relief to come. A beautifully crafted wooden door greeted her. It was flanked by tall, ornate vases filled with fresh flowers. As she pushed open the door, a gentle chime rang out, and she was greeted by a serene, luxurious interior. The lobby was a haven of calm and sophistication. Soft, instrumental music played in the background, blending harmoniously with the gentle scent of essential oils that permeated the air. The reception area featured a sleek, polished marble desk and an elegantly designed waiting area with plush seating and tranquil water features. Large, framed artworks of nature scenes adorned the walls, enhancing the sense of peaceful retreat. Seulgi approached the reception desk, where a friendly female receptionist named Emily welcomed her with a warm smile. “Erm, Yeri sent me, and she told me to request for Y/N and for the Yeri’s special” Seulgi said sheepishly, uncertain of what she was asking for. "Of course, ma'am. Please have a seat in the lobby while we prepare your room." Emily’s friendly demeanour immediately put Seulgi at ease.

After a short 10 minutes, Emily called for Seulgi telling her that the room was ready and led her down the hallway. As Seulgi walked down the hallway, she marveled at the attention to detail. The walls were lined with calming hues and soft, textured fabrics, creating an atmosphere of relaxation. Each treatment room had its own unique design, with soft lighting, comfortable massage tables, and calming decor. Seulgi was escorted to her room, which was a sanctuary of tranquility. The room featured a massage table draped in soft, pristine linens, surrounded by warm, ambient light and gentle, aromatic scents. The atmosphere was inviting, promising a session of deep relaxation and rejuvenation. Seductive like a siren, was what came to mind in Seulgi's head as she saw the layout. She shook that thought out of her head and sat at the large massage table in the middle of the room." You can leave your clothes and bra here, but please keep your underwear on," Emily instructed. Once Seulgi was ready, she asked if there was a nearby shower, she could use. Emily reassured her with a smile, "Don’t worry, our masseuse will take care of everything, including a wash before your session." Emily then took out a soft silk satin blindfold and prepared to place it over Seulgi's eyes. "Um, what’s this for?" Seulgi asked. Emily smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, it helps you close your eyes and relax, enhancing your overall experience." Emily gently placed the soft silk satin blindfold over Seulgi's eyes, the cool fabric settling comfortably against her skin. As she adjusted the blindfold to ensure it was secure yet gentle, Seulgi felt a soothing darkness envelop her. The sensation of the blindfold heightened her other senses, allowing her to fully immerse herself in the forthcoming relaxation. The absence of visual distractions helped her mind quiet, creating a deeper sense of calm and anticipation for the massage ahead.

As Seulgi laid face up on the plush massage table, she settled into the comfortable linens and took a deep breath, readying herself for the massage. After about 5 minutes, she expected to hear the footsteps of just one person, the masseuse. However, as she listened closely, she detected the sound of 2 pairs of footsteps approaching. A slight rustling and murmured conversation filled the air, piquing her curiosity about what was happening just outside her line of sight. “Are you ready for your cleaning? Seulgi” You asked with a deep voice. Her face changed to an initial surprised expression. She was showing her idol body to what she believed was not 1 but 2 male masseurs. This expression faded quickly as she reminded herself that this was a professional setting and that they were here to help her relax. Trusting in the professionalism of the staff, she put her concerns aside and nodded softly prepared to fully embrace the massage experience. You took in the magnificent view before you. Seulgi was incredibly sexy.

She exuded an effortless allure, her skin glowing with a subtle sheen of sweat that highlighted her toned physique. Her hair, slightly damp, framed her face beautifully, and her well-defined abs…those well-defined abs were to die for. Her breasts were full, and her curves accentuated her plump meaty ass. You and your partner, Alison, take in her irresistible feminine scent and begin your work. "Let's start with your tongue bath, shall we?" Seulgi was shocked by that very different meaning of cleaning, but before she responded, you and Alison began your slow, sensual tongue massage. Starting at her ears, you trace the outline of her lobes with your tongues, flicking the delicate skin with the tips. Seulgi lets out a soft moan, instead of protesting, she lets her head tilt back to give you better access. She was secretly enjoying the moment as well. You pause at her earlobes, sucking and nibbling gently. Lowering your mouths, you lick a path down her jawline, your tongues working in unison as you coat her skin with your warm saliva, enjoying the way her body squirms in response.

Then, lifting her arms, you move down to her armpits, an area that deserves your special attention. You notice the sweat that glitters on her arch, and can’t help but take a deep breath, inhaling her scent fully. You and Alison take one pit each, burying your faces in the sweet-smelling hollows. Your tongues dart out, licking every inch of her sweat-glistened skin, tasting the tangy, musky flavour of her arousal. You suck and nip at the sensitive folds of her skin, replacing her sweat with your saliva, your breath hot against her pits, making her whimper with pleasure. After thoroughly cleaning and worshipping her armpits, you trace a path down to her chest, circling her nipples but not quite touching them yet. You lick and nibble at the soft flesh of her breasts, your tongues flattening to cover as much area as possible. Finally, you can't resist any longer, and you latch your mouths onto her erect nipples, sucking gently at first, then with more intensity. Seulgi's breath quickens, her hands instinctively going to your heads, threading her fingers through your hair as you tease her sensitive peaks."Oh, fuck... that feels so good," she breathes, her hips bucking unconsciously as waves of pleasure shot through to her already throbbing pussy. She was leaking wet and feeling exposed at the mercy of you and Alison. She was relieved that she could keep her underwear on, which provided a final layer of modesty and protection, sparing her from potential embarrassment and preserving her dignity.

You and Alison continued your work giving each nipple equal attention, your hands occasionally roaming her body, caressing her soft skin, your fingers gently pinching and rolling her nipples when your mouths aren't on them. Both of you work in unison as if a mirror to each other's movements giving the same attention to both halves of her body. Teasingly, you trail your tongues down her quivering abdomen, circling her belly button before dipping in as well. You swiped your tongue along her well-defined abs, feeling her toned muscle on your tongue. Her skin is like a canvas, and you're painting it with your saliva, marking her with your lust. As both of you traced down her curves and thighs with your tongue finally reaching the waistband of her soaking panties, you paused and looked at her with hungry eyes. "Already so wet down here," you comment, your voice husky with desire. Seulgi’s face flushed with embarrassment upon hearing this. Seulgi bites her lip, anticipation coursing through her veins. "Please... I need more."You chuckle softly, enjoying the power you hold over her. Instead of going straight for her pussy, you surprise her by capturing her feet in your hands. You and Alison take a foot each, kissing and licking the delicate skin of her soles and toes, sucking on her toes one by one, making her squirm. After thoroughly worshipping her feet, you use your hands to massage her calves and thighs, working your way back up her body. You avoid her pussy, your fingers brushing agonisingly close, but never quite touching her aching core. Seulgi is panting now, her need palpable in the room. Her pussy is leaking onto her panties, the wet spot growing bigger by the second. "Please... touch me," she begs, her voice thick with desire. "Not yet sweetheart. We're going to take our time with you," you whisper, your lips brushing against her earlobe, commanding a certain dominance in your voice. You took a step back to admire the view. Seulgi's body is glistening with both of your saliva, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she anticipates your next move. Proud of the tongue-bath you gave her. You reach out and gently grasp her panty-clad ass, giving each cheek a soft squeeze before slowly sliding your hands down to cup her pussy. You feel the heat radiating from her core, the damp fabric of her panty, a testament to her arousal. Using just the tips of your fingers, you massage her outer lips through the fabric, avoiding her clit and entrance, much to her frustration. "Tease," she whimpers, trying to push her hips toward your hand. You chuckle, enjoying her squirm. "All in good time, sweetheart." You move lower, your fingers tracing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Seulgi whimpers, her need building with every touch. Her pussy is dripping wet, but you continue to avoid it, focusing on the areas surrounding it.

Then as if understanding each other, both of your tongues and hands leave her body, causing her to feel empty and wanting. Seulgi lay still on the massage table, her senses heightened by the uncertainty of what was happening with the blindfold still covering her eyesight. The silence of the room was then interrupted by the soft squirt of massage oil being dispensed from the bottle. The sound was immediately followed by a cool, liquid sensation as the oil was gently applied to her skin. The initial contact of the cold oil against her warm, slightly damp body made her shiver pleasantly. The contrast between the chill of the oil and the warmth of her skin was both surprising and invigorating. Using slow and deliberate movements, you continued to pour the cool scented oil onto her body, starting with her shoulders and working your way down. Her skin glistens in the soft light as you massage the oil into her flesh, your strong hands working out any tension she might have, untying every knot in her body. Your hands move down to cup one of her breasts, and you could feel her nipples already rock hard from your skilled touch. Your hands gave her firm breast a strong squeeze. “Oh, yes,” Seulgi moaned, arching her back as you continued to knead her flesh more roughly. “Don’t stop,” Capturing her nipples between your fingers, you rolled them gently before you and Alison gave it a rough tug, seeing how far it could stretch, before letting it spring back to her chest. This move left Seulgi moaning loudly and whimpering in a hot mess. Her breath quickens as your hands glide lower, caressing her inner thighs, inching towards her core but never quite touching it. You both chuckle darkly at her frustrated whimpers.

Both of you pulled away again and grabbed something from the desk. A soft vibrating sound was heard, which she guessed was a bullet vibrator. You and Alison switched places now, you attending to her lower body, while Alison her upper. The blindfold was doing its work, keeping her anticipating the next move yet never knowing when it was going to come. Tracing the cool metal over her skin, you watch as goosebumps rise in its wake. Seulgi shivers, her breath catching in her throat as you slowly drag the vibrator up her thigh, closer and closer to her aching pussy. Meanwhile Alison worked his way down her arm and to her heavy breast, circling her rock-hard tits but never quite touching it again. You continued to administer this treatment for a good 5 minutes, always nearing her core but never touching it. This to Seulgi felt like an hour. She squirms, her hips bucking slightly as she tries to rub her neglected pussy against the table to gain some sort of friction. “Such a good girl for us” Alison murmurs. “Please... I need... to cum" she pleads, her voice hoarse with desire. "Patience, my dear, you will only cum when we allow you to" you chide gently but with utmost dominance in your tone, which leaves Seulgi submissive and unable to protest. Grabbing some tape, you and Alison place the bullet vibrators on each of her tits "You like that, huh? Like us playing with your tits?" you murmur, your lips brushing her ear. You blow a gentle stream of air onto her damp nipples, causing her to shudder, and then you twist and tug on them, earning a keening whine from Seulgi before finally securing the vibrator firmly in place on her tits.

Instead of giving her the relief she craves, you take another vibrator and press the vibrator to her inner thigh, just below her pussy, taping it in place. Seulgi lets out a frustrated whine, wanting the vibrator to be exactly where she needs it. At this point, her underwear had been so soaked that it turned a completely different shade of colour from her initial bright pink to a deep red velvet (I know I couldn't help it). It has been almost an hour of edging and teasing yet Seulgi was unable to get the release she had been chasing.

“Turn around for me sweetheart” you instruct, giving her a playful smack on the ass. The sound echoing through the still and silent room as you leave a slightly red handprint on her fleshy globes. Seulgi does as she's told, presenting her round, peachy ass to you. It's a glorious sight, and you can't resist caressing the soft, plump cheeks, revelling in the softness of her skin. With her chest now pressed against the massage table, she could feel the bullet vibrators, vibration stronger on her nipples and the sudden pleasure shot through to her core, causing an accident mini squirt out of her throbbing pussy. Did she just have an orgasm from just having her tits played with? Seulgi thought. She however had hoped that this would have gone unnoticed to both of you. To an experienced masseur like you, it was immediately apparent. “Did you just cum? You slut, who said you could” Your deep voice echoed with authority. “Naughty girl like you needs to be punished!” You grip her plump ass cheeks, squeezing them firmly before landing a sharp smack that echoes through the room. Seulgi yelps, but it quickly turns into a moan as you massage the heat from the spank. ‘That's a good girl. You are enjoying this aren't you? Taking your punishment so well," Alison purrs, landing another smack, this time on the other cheek. Both of you continued to land open handed smacks on her ass until it was glowing a rosy, red, you admired your handiwork, running your hands over the warm flesh. Seulgi squirms, desperate for more which you do not disappoint.

You and Alison stand on either side of her once more, your hands roaming her back and ass, massaging and kneading the supple flesh, administering the same treatment as you did to her front. Your fingers glide down the crack of her ass, teasingly close to her most intimate hole, but never quite breaching it. “Well, there is one more area we have not cleaned sweetheart” Slipping her soaked undies off and placing them on the table beside you, you leaned down and bury your face in her ass, your tongue snaking out to lick a path from the tail bone down to her crack, tasting the salty sweetness of her most private areas. Seulgi moans, her head falling forward to rest on the table as she basks in the sensations bombarding her body. Alison joins in, and together, you eat her out, your tongues working in harmony to pleasure her. Alison licks and sucks at her pussy, delving into her wet folds, tasting her sweet nectar. At the same time, you rim her tight asshole, circling the wrinkled flesh with your tongues, teasingly penetrating her with the tips. Seulgi is lost in a haze of pleasure, her body shaking uncontrollably as she nears her orgasm with the attention her holes are finally getting. "Oh God, I'm gonna cum... don't stop!" she cries out, her hands gripping the edges of the table as she braces herself for the impending explosion. “Hold it slut” both you and Alison, remove your tongues from holes. “Please, let me cum” Seulgi begged. Seeing her sincerity, you relented with an agreement, “You only get to cum on our count of 3 from now on, is that understood?” You declared with a certain firmness in your voice, eliciting a nod from Seulgi.

With that said, you and Alison in union dived back into her holes, lapping away hungrily at both of her holes. Then Seulgi heard the count as she reached her orgasm. “3” Seulgi fist clenches hard on the sheets trying to hold her orgasm. “2” you hear her whimpering as if begging you to count faster. “1” You intentionally drag the 1 as you swirl your tongue relentlessly around the wrinkled hole. Meanwhile Alison, captured her clit with his mouth and gave it a rough suck. Her knuckles were white at this point, before you finally gave the command “Cum” As if she was being liberated from a cage, Seulgi convulsed hard, releasing one of the strongest orgasms she ever had. Spraying Alison’s face with her squirt, some even reaching the room walls. A pool of her juice was even formed on the sheets below her. As her orgasm starts to subside, you and Alison lap at her remaining juice that tasted sweet as nectar before slowly pulling away, your tongues and lips glistening with her essence. You take a moment to admire your handiwork, your beautiful client splayed out on the table, her body spent and satisfied. “It is my first-time squirting” Seulgi pants while trying to catch her breath. “Don’t worry it will not be your last. “You smirked leaving her to wonder what you meant. This session was just getting started.

You reach for some more massage oil, warming it in your hands before pouring it onto Seulgi's back, your slick hands gliding over her supple skin. You work the oil into her muscles, your fingers firm yet gentle as you soothe away any remaining tension. Your hands roam lower, cupping her ass cheeks and spreading them slightly to expose her tight, quivering asshole once again. You rub the oil into her crease, your fingers teasingly circling her hole, making her moan and squirm. Before she could protest or had enough time to recover from her orgasm, you slip a finger inside her ass, your other hand reaching under to find her swollen clit. “Oh God, I have never had anything in there” She moaned. Ignoring her, you finger-fuck her tight hole slowly, as your other hand works its magic on her clit, rubbing and circling the sensitive bud. Alison joins in, running his hands up Seulgi’s thick thighs, spreading them slightly, moving to kneel before Seulgi. Her pussy is completely bare, her lips already swollen from the previous simulation. He leaned forward, inhaling her sweet musk before tracing his tongue along her slit. She tastes of honey and desire, and Alison moans softly as he laps at her, his tongue flicking over her clit, replacing your fingers. Teasingly he inserted one finger into her tight hole and felt her wet clench around his fingers. "Fuck, you're so wet, baby," Alison groaned, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside her. Seulgi keens, her body writhing as both of you stretch and fill her. "More... I need more," she begs, her hands reaching back to grip your wrists. Squirting a little more oil to your fingers, you slowly added a second finger, slowly pushing it deeper into Seulgi's ass, stretching her slowly as you work her in a steady rhythm. Seulgi gasps, her body tensing momentarily before relaxing as you curled your finger, searching for that sweet spot. Meanwhile Alison continued to lick and suck on her clit, his own fingers buried deep inside her pussy, slowly quickening his fingering, until with every thrust, a squelching sound could be heard from how wet Seulgi’s pussy had become. "Mmm, that's it," you encouraged. "Take it all, Seulgi. We know you can take more." You give her fleshy ass a playful bite before licking the redden area, as you fuck your fingers deeper into her ass, feeling the tight hole clench around your finger even more with every playful bite that you give her.

Synchronising your movements, your fingers and tongues working in tandem to drive Seulgi wild. Her breathing becomes ragged, her hips bucking as she cries out, her third orgasm approaching rapidly. You don't stop, determined to push her further. You slip a third finger into her ass, scissoring her as you suck another reddened spot you created. Alison mirrors your movements, adding a third finger to Seulgi’s pussy fucking her with powerful deliberate strokes. "Oh my God, oh my God," Seulgi chants, her body glistening with a mixture of lube and her own juices. "I'm going to cum again, please don't stop!" "That's it, baby. Cum for us," Alison urges, his voice hoarse. With that , the magical countdown began “3…2….1…” Again, you intentionally hold the 1, which causes Seulgi to once again grip the sheets tightly. “Cum, let it all go sweetheart” you encouraged, your voice thick with desire. As if on command, and with a few more quick thrusts of your fingers and relentless rubbing of her clit, Seulgi tumbles over the edge. She cries out, her body convulsing as she rides out another powerful orgasm, her juices dripping down Alison’s hand. Alison presses his fingers against Seulgi’s lips, which Seulgi subconsciously opened invitingly to suck his fingers clean. She felt so dirty tasting herself but was surprised at how sweet it tasted. Before she had time to recover from her orgasm, your fingers re-entered her puckered hole, this time with a fourth finger. Alison, seeing this joined back, filling her empty pussy with 4 fingers as well. Seulgi screams, her body shaking uncontrollably. "Too much! Oh, God, it's too much! I need a break" she cries, her voice high and breathless. "Relax, baby. Let it happen," you soothed. As you and Alison continued the assault, relentlessly stretching out her holes, you sensed Seulgi’s 4th orgasm was coming and you began the routine. “3….2....1” “Cum you slut”. Her orgasm hits her like a wave, her body trembling as she cries out, her pussy clenching around Alison’s fingers. You feel her ass contracting around your fingers and you know she’s experiencing an intense, full body release.

You remove your fingers, her ass gripping them tightly as you pull them out, reluctant to let go. You marvel at the sight of her gaping hole, satisfied at how stretched it looks. Seulgi collapses onto the table, spent and satisfied, a lazy smile on her face, her eyes closed as she basks in the afterglow. "That... was incredible," she manages to gasp. You stand there, taking in the sight of her gorgeous, satisfied body, giving her a short break before removing the taped vibrators on her tits and thighs. This deceived Seulgi into thinking the session was finally over after 4 hard orgasms. Little did she know what “Yeri’s special entailed”. Like energy that cannot be destroyed or created only converted to other forms, so was the use of the bullet vibrator, it simply had a new function this time. Swapping places with Alison, you push the vibrator deep inside her pussy causing her eyes to open to the darkness of the blindfold. The buzz echoed through Seulgi's body as you slowly work the vibrator in and out, scissoring her occasionally as you allow the vibrator to work its magic. As you continue to fuck her with the vibrator, relentless in your pursuit of her pleasure. Alison adds the second vibrator, pushing it into her ass as you focus on her pussy. Seulgi is sent into a mess of writhing limbs and incoherent moans as you drive her to the edge again and again, her body shaking with another orgasm. With every orgasm, you applied the same rule, only allowing her to cum when you gave the command, conditioning her body to your words.

Then, sitting Seulgi up, Alison went behind Seulgi, cupping her breast giving them a gentle squeeze and massage, before she suddenly hears a different vibrating sound this time, one more powerful that filled the room. “What is…” Before she could even finish her sentence, you pressed the vibrating wand in your hand against her clit, making her cry out in surprise and pleasure. Her hands clutch at the sheets, her body already on edge. If Alison was not behind her supporting her, she would have crashed onto the floor by now. “Fuckkkk , please, let me come” You smile, holding the vibrator firmly in place, watching her squirm and writhe. Her pussy is already glistening with arousal, her clit begging for more attention. “3…2…1…. Cum for me Seulgi, let me see you fall apart” You turn up the intensity on all the vibrators, making her cry out loudly as she felt the vibrators rub against each other. Her body convulses, her back arching as the orgasm crashes through her. You hold the wand firmly against her clit, prolonging her pleasure, riding out the wave. “Please… no more…” You ignore her, repeating the countdown, time and time again. “One more time sweetheart” you demanded one orgasm after another, and she delivers each time with her body solely responding to the countdown now. After a boundless amount of orgasm, Seulgi feels like she has almost lost her mind from the over-stimulation.

Then there was silence…… Everything was removed in an instant from her body and the vibrations went still . She felt Alison standing up from behind her as well. “Y/N, are you there?” There was no response for another 15 seconds, and just as she was about to take off her blindfolds to understand the situation, she heard the ritual that by this time, her body was all too familiar with. “3…2….” “Wait, I can’t cum anymore, it’s too much” She protested while wondering also how she would be able to cum, with all the stimulants removed, “1..” As she heard the 1, her body anticipated a pending orgasm, but she needed a little something that would push her over the edge. You are more than happy to oblige. “Cum” You surprise her with an open-handed smack right on her sensitive pussy. The sound echoes through the room, and Seulgi's eyes roll to the back of her head as another orgasm takes hold of her. This time, it's too much, and she squirts even more powerfully, her juices drenching you. "Oh, fucking hell..." she screams, her body shaking uncontrollably. "I'm squirting... Can't hold it..." You laugh, a deep, satisfied sound, as you watch her lose control. "That's it, drench us, you filthy slut," you growl, your voice thick with satisfaction. Her juices coat your hands and your body with multiple spurts that she could not control, a testament to the pleasure you've given her. Finally, you relent, and let her body rest. Seulgi lies boneless on the table, her chest heaving as she catches her breath. You and Alison clean her up using the towels, before you see her soaked panties on the table and a nasty thought crosses your mind. Using it as if it is a sponge, you swipe her already soaked fabric on the pool that had formed on the massage table between Seulgi’s legs, making it dripping with her essence. “Here, drink up” Your finger grabbing her chin as a sign for her to open up her mouth. Seulgi still deprived of her eyesight, innocently consented and opened her mouth assuming it was water. You squeeze the soaked panties, allowing the essence to fall directly into her mouth. She was initially shocked at the quantity and the taste of it before recognising what it was but swallowed it anyway like a good girl she was. You did this a few more times, hydrating her with her own essence making her feel like a dirty little slut.

Seulgi closed her eyes and accidentally drifted off into sleep while you guys were doing the remaining cleaning up. You smile gently at the sight of the cute girl before you who you had known had given her all on and off stage. After a while, she stirs a little and the blindfold falls off, and she blinks, her eyes adjusting to the soft light of the room. “Welcome back sweetheart” you murmur a satisfied smile on your face. Seulgi cracks a lazy smile, her entire body tingling with post-orgasmic bliss. "That... was incredible. I've never experienced anything like it." her body is feeling renewed by now. Her gaze lands on you both, and her breath catches in her throat as she takes in the sight of your eager, hard cocks

"It is my turn to return the favor," she purrs, her voice thick with desire. She kneels before you both, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You and Alison stand side by side, your cocks twitching with anticipation as your 7-inch cocks throbbed with need. It was professionalism but more so a miracle that kept you guys from fucking her in the past hour and half. I mean who could resist such an insanely sexy body like Seulgi’s. She was such a sexy vixen. "Suck us off, sweetheart," you growl, your voice deep and husky. "Show us how much you appreciated the massage." Seulgi's eyes shine as she looks up at you, and then her gaze shifts to Alison. Her lip’s part, and she leans forward, wrapping her lips around your cockhead. She swirls her tongue around the sensitive ridge, teasing you with soft sucks and gentle nips. Her hands explore your thighs, squeezing the firm muscle, her touch sending shivers up your bodies. You groan as you watch her, your cock throbbing fiercely. "That's it, baby," you encourage her. "You like the taste of this dick, don't you?" Seulgi hums in response, the vibrations sending a jolt through your body. You thread your fingers into her hair, guiding her pace, sliding your length in and out of her warm, wet mouth. Not wanting to leave Alison out, she uses her hands to gather the saliva dripping down her chin from the blowjob, lubricating it before stretching them out to give Alison’s slow but firm strokes on his cock. Soon she was controlling the pace and alternating between the both of you. Seulgi uses her warm hands to stroke your length this time, while she takes Alison deeper, her lips gliding to the base of Alison’s cock and her tongue grazing the underside of his shaft. She increases her pace in her double administration, stroking faster while bobbing her head quicker, maintaining eye contact, and you can see the desire burning in her eye. It was a sloppy mess and you and Alison were grunting and clenching your fist to not release too quickly from the expert skills of the sexy vixen before you.

You look over to Alison, and without a word he nods, as if understanding you too well. Together, you stopped Seulgi and urged her to stand. You lead her to the massage table and gently lay her down, her head hanging off the edge. Her neck is exposed, her hair cascading down, providing the perfect access to her pretty mouth. "You ready for a face fuck, baby?" you ask. Seulgi's eyes glitter with excitement. "Please," she whispers, her breath coming in short gasps. "Fuck my mouth. I want to feel you." You don't need to be told twice. You step up to the table, positioning your throbbing cock at her lips. Her mouth opens, and you slide in, her warm, wet tongue greeting you. You groan as you start to thrust, your hands tangling in her hair, holding her in place as you begin to fuck her face. Her mouth is hot and tight around your cock, her tongue dancing along your length. You pull out, your cock slick with her saliva, and then plunge back in, going deeper each time, hitting the back of her throat. Your balls graze her nose each time you fuck deeply into her throat, forcing her to inhale the musky scent it was giving off, which turned her on even more. You watch as her eyes water, the signs of her slight discomfort only spurring you on. "You like that, don't you, baby?" you grunt. "You like getting your throat fucked by this dick." Seulgi manages a throaty moan in response, her hands grasping at your thighs as you pound her mouth. Shifting your hands, you reached out to stroke Seulgi’s throat, you could feel your cock going in and out of her. You applied some pressure and tightened your hold of her throat, which causes her throat to also tighten around your huge cock increasing your pleasure. She gags on it, her face glistening with more and more spit with every passing second. After a while, you thought of your partner and pulled out, leaving her lips glistening and swollen, and stepped aside for Alison to take your place. He plunges into her mouth, his cock slick and hard, and begins to thrust, his pace frantic as he fills her mouth over and over.

As Alison uses her mouth, you take the opportunity to explore her body again. Your hands glide over her soft skin, caressing her breasts, pinching her nipples, making her squirm and moan around Alison’s cock. You trace your fingers down her stomach, dipping into her navel, before sliding your hand lower, between her thighs. Her pussy is dripping wet again from the face fuck, the evidence of her arousal coating your fingers as you rub her clit in slow, teasing circles. Seulgi bucks her hips, her breath coming in sharp gasps as you torture her with pleasure. "Please," she whimpers, her voice muffled by Alison's cock. "I need more." You chuckle as you think to yourself of what an insatiable slut Seulgi is, even her countless orgasm was not yet enough for her, but then you remembered …. Well Yeri’s way worse. “Fuck her Y/N”. Alison grunted. You do not need to be told twice. You position yourself at her entrance, the tip of your cock teasing her wet, eager hole. With one smooth thrust, you sink into her, her heat enveloping and accommodating your big cock. Seulgi cries out, her back arching as you fill her completely. You give her a moment to adjust to your size, revelling in the feeling of her tight pussy clenching around you. "Ready for more, baby?" you ask, your voice rough. Seulgi manages a nod, her eyes wild with desire. You begin to move, slowly at first, pulling out until just the head of your cock remains inside her, before slamming back into her with force in one swoop. Seulgi screams, her legs wrapping around your waist, her heels digging into your ass, urging you on. Then, you set a relentless pace, pounding into her, your balls slapping against her ass with each deep thrust. Her pussy grips you tightly, milking your cock. It was a rhythmic and synchromatic mess. With every hard thrust that you fuck Seulgi with, it pushes her take take more of Alison’s cock down her throat. Similarly with every thrust that Alison’s fucks Seulgi’s throat with, she was pushed back to take your shaft deeper into her. This spit roast left Seulgi at the mercy of both of you controlling the pace. She felt like she was merely a vessel of pleasure to be used by both of you at this point and all of you knew it would not be long before you all found your release. "I'm close," she whimpers. "Please, don't stop." You grin and thrust harder, your cock plunging deep into her wetness. "Cum for me, baby," you grunt. "Cum all over my cock." Seulgi's body tenses, and she lets out a cry, her face contorting and pussy clenching around you like a vice. Her orgasm washes over her, her juices flooding your cock, as she rides out her intense release. The sight of her climax pushes you over the edge. You pound into her a few more times, feeling your balls tighten as your orgasm builds. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you grit out. "I'm gonna fill that tight pussy with my load." Seulgi moans in response, encouraging you to let go. You thrust a few more times, before remembering she is still an idol. You quickly pull out, your cock throbbing as you spill your cum painting her abs and tits. Ropes after ropes of your hot cum covers her, and you grunt in satisfaction as you ride out your orgasm. Within seconds of this hot sight, Alison reaches his high as well. Holding her head in place, he gives one more deep thrust before ejaculating hard down her throat. The warm liquid fills her throat as Seulgi gags and tries to swallow everything but fails as some of it drips down her lips and chin onto the linens on the massage chair. Licking the side of her lips, she does something none of you expected, she turns slightly and dips her tongue onto the linens, cleaning up whatever cum that had spilled on it. “Damn, what a dirty slut” you said. This erotic sight that was displayed before both of you made your cocks hard again, ready and energised for round 2.

Alison wasted no time, wanting to feel her pussy this time, positioned himself on the massage table. “Ride me Seulgi” Seulgi straddled him, aligning herself with Alison’s cock, she lowered her hips patiently and felt the full length of Alison’s cock pushing through her folds. “Fuuuck” She groans in pleasure. Once she had adjusted enough to Alison’s cock, she began to ride Alison at a steady pace. You watched as she rode him, her perfect ass bouncing with each thrust. She threw her head back, moaning with pleasure as Alison filled her pussy. As she continued to ride him, you approached sneakily from behind, your cock twitching with anticipation. Suddenly, Seulgi felt your hard cock teasingly probing at her virgin asshole. “I’ve never done this before!” Seulgi said with a concerned look, wondering how she was going to fit all those 7 inches into her virgin asshole. With one hand on her back, you pushed her slightly forward, bending her down unto Alison’s body. With her ass lifted, Alison moves his hands to her ass cheeks, parting it slightly, giving you a clear view of her now exposed rosebuds. Lubing up your hard cock, you entered her tight hole slowly, feeling the tough resistance of her virgin ass enveloping your cock. Seulgi gasped at the sensation, her body tensing. "Oh fuck, it's so full." You gripped her hips, slowly pushing it inch by inch into her ass, giving her time to adjust to the feeling, until she managed to take you all the way to the base of your shaft. "Relax, baby," you whispered. "You're doing great." you whispered into her ears as you began thrusting in and out of her ass. Alison, feeling the new tightness of this position started pistoning into pussy, his hips slapping against her clit. The bed creaked with the force of your combined thrusts. As Seulgi’s breast were bouncing all over the place, you reached around, squeezing Seulgi's tits, using them as handlebars as you continued to fuck her ass. "God, she's tight," Alison grunted. "Feels so good." You spanked Seulgi's ass, leaving red handprints on her cheeks. "Take it, you dirty girl," you growled. "Take our cocks in both your holes. Seulgi cried out, the sensation overwhelming her. The feeling of being filled in both holes sent her approaching an intense orgasm. Sensing her impeding orgasm, you gripped her tits harder, and sped up fucking her ass. Meanwhile, Alison gripped Seulgi’s waist and forced her to lower herself onto his slick cock while at the same time thrusting himself up into her wanting cunt, spearing her folds. You leaned forward, nibbling on her earlobe. "That's it, baby. Cum all over our cocks.” This sent her to the edge as her lower body convulsed and trembled, clutching at Alison’s shoulder as she came hard around both of your cocks, her juices flowing.

You withdrew from her ass, sliding your cock out with a wet pop. Lifting Seulgi off Alison’s cock, you spun her around into a reverse cowgirl position now, making her face you, her eyes still sparking with lust. Alison’s cock was glistening with her juice, repositioning himself, he guided his cock towards her ass. Seulgi gasped as she felt the head push against her tight hole. She moaned as you slowly lowered her down onto Alison’s, allowing her to feel it penetration her tender walls once again. "Fuck, this ass is so tight," Alison grunted, his voice strained as he fought for control. Once, you see that Alison’s cock has completely disappeared into her ass, you guided your shaft towards her pussy, rubbing the head against her swollen folds before slipping inside. Seulgi's face contorts into a whimpering mess, her moans are now pants of inaudible words, as both of your cocks stretched her to her limits. Both of you began to move in unison, your hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. Alison's cock slid in and out of her ass, from her riding while your piston-like movements in her pussy drove her wild. You could feel Alison’s cock in her ass, pressing against your own through the thin membrane separating her holes. It was an incredible sensation, feeling her body filled to the brim. Seulgi was being fucked mercilessly; her senses overwhelmed as both of you used her body for their pleasure. As you continued fucking her, you reached forward, cupping her tits and tweaking her nipples. "Your body is so fucking perfect," “Made for our cocks’ Seulgi threw her head back, her long hair trailing down her back. Taking the opportunity, you leaned forward, your lips crashing against hers. It was a sloppy, passionate make out, your tongues tangling for dominance as you tasted each other, your hands still played with her tits, rolling her sensitive nipples between your fingers. Breaking the kiss, you trail kisses down her neck, savouring the taste of her skin. You continue lower, your mouth enveloping one of her nipples, sucking and biting gently as you twist the other peak between your fingers. Not wanting to be outdone, Alison reached around her, his hand searching for her clit. Upon finding the swollen nub. He rubbed circles around it, his fingers slick with her arousal as he thrust his balls slapping against her ass "Come on, baby, cum for us again. Let us feel that your holes clench around our cocks again," he growled as he gave her swollen nub a pinch. Seulgi's body obeyed his command. Her orgasm crashed over her, and her ass and pussy clenched around your cocks. You and Alison groaned, your own pleasure building as you felt her walls pulsate around them. Not wanting to cum just yet, you and Alison slowed your pace, taking deep breaths as you fought for control. You wanted to edge closer to the precipice, but not fall over just yet.

Withdrawing from her, you helped Seulgi move into a new position. She lay on her side, her legs drawn up, offering both her holes in a spooning position. This time you wanted her tight ass again, so you positioned yourself behind her while Alison took her front. Seulgi is once again sandwiched between the two of you as you both enter her again. This time her muscles were relaxed to accommodate your thickness. Given how slick both of your cocks and her holes were, you guys slid into her easily, filling her up again as she arched her back, pushing her ass back towards you. You both set up a steady, hard rhythm, double-penetrating Seulgi, who was squirming and moaning, her body on fire with pleasure being impaled on two hard cocks. "You like being our sexy little slut, don't you?" "Yes!" she cries, her head tossing from side to side. "I'm your slut, your dirty little toy! Make me cum, please!" Seulgi was surprised at how dirty she sounded but at this moment all she could think about was her release. You chuckled then with a mischievous grin, you reached for the bullet vibrator once again, switching it on and teasing her clit with it. She bucked her hips, her breath catching as the vibrations sent sparks of pleasure through her body. Then, you pulled out of her ass and slipped the vibrator into her tight hole before thrusting your cock back in, fucking the toy into her with your cock. Alison mirrors this action, grabbing another bullet vibrator and slipping it into her pussy, the toy disappearing instantly into her slick hole, before continuing to fuck her pussy with it. Her pussy and ass were all being used, filled and simulated and on the brink of a powerful orgasm. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum so hard! " She cried out. You felt Alison's balls slapping against Seulgi's pussy as he pounded into her, and you knew he too was close. You could hear the wet, sloppy sounds of your cocks fucking her tight holes, and the vibrations of the bullets added a whole new level of intensity. "Cum with me, sweetheart.” “Let go, I want to feel you milk us with your tight holes.” Your words send her over the edge, as Seulgi convulses, cumming harder than she had ever done before in her life. Her pussy contracts around Alison’s cock, and her ass clamps down on yours, attempting to milk you both as she orgasms. “Fill me with your cum” Seulgi begged. Not being able to hold out any longer, with one final, powerful thrust, Alison emptied his load deep inside Seulgi's pussy. His cum mixed with her juices as he filled her up, and the feeling of his hot seed pushed you over the edge. Rope after rope of your cum shot into Seulgi's ass, your cock twitching with each pulse. You felt spent, but the pleasure was overwhelming. The three of you collapsed in a heap, your sweat-covered bodies intertwined. Seulgi’s holes gaping from the intense fucking. Seulgi turned to face you, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. She kissed you deeply, tasting herself on your lips, and then turned to Jake, doing the same. The three of you lay there, catching your breath, the bullet vibrators still buzzing gently inside her. "That was the most intense thing I've ever experienced," she breathed, running her hands over her body. "I can't wait to do it again." She could see why Yeri would come here regularly, discovering how much of a freak her maknae is. Magically, every knot in her body was gone and her muscle ache had disappeared even though the past 3 hours of non-stop debauchery was an intense workout itself. “I look forward to seeing you again sweetheart” you said as you helped Seulgi wipe the remaining cum off her skin and helped her get dressed. She was one of your favourite clients, given how hot her body is.

As she walked in the door of her apartment feeling refreshed and like a new person after the massage, Yeri was waiting for her. "Well, someone looks completely renewed!" Yeri teased with a smile. “You were such a slut out there Unnie” Yeri said as she flipped her phone over, revealing that she had access to the livestream of the entire session the whole time. “YAH, KIM YERI, YOU BETTER DELETE THAT” She exclaimed, her face completely flushed in embarrassment as she hurried straight to her room. As Seulgi sank into her bed, she recalled the events that had transpired, and rubbed her clothed pussy. She could not wait for her next session with you. “A magic touch indeed” Who knows maybe she would one day even come here together with Yeri or her group for a combined session with you.

Thanks for reading my second piece. Her abs are to die for!! Will appreciate, comments likes or reblogs! Hope you guys enjoyed many words worth of smut! Request are open but I will only write request that I find interesting enough and are idols I enjoy unless you would like to commission a piece. Do check out my first piece if you havent as well! I'm so surprised it has reach 750 notes and am thankful for support. Not sure if I will release fics are regular as now as I only write when I have a motivation! Cheers

#kpop smut #kang seulgi #seulgi smut #kpop fanfic #red velvet #red velvet smut #red velvet seulgi smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #female idol x reader #m reader

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whompthatsucker1981 · 1 year ago

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you said you think gay sex cats is the new duchamp's fountain. i dont disagree and i kinda see what you mean already but please elaborate

it was a silly and tongue in cheek way to say that a lot of people are getting mad about it in a way that implies reactionary views on art, and that there's no way to say gay sex cats isn't art that wouldn't also imply that the fountain isn't art. a funny meme image is a funny meme image, but it is also funny to overthink and recontextualize them as art.

and the reaction makes the comparison even more apt. neural net generated artworks are anonymized mass produced images, vast majority having no artistic pretension or meaningful content such as a thomas kinkade painting. gay sex cats was made with no intent to be art, but the discourse it has with audience reaction and its appropriation in derivative works make it so. why is gay sex cats not art if people talking about it negatively allow it to be called art? is art only things you find beautiful and valuable? if so, what is value and beauty, and how do you draw the line? if gay sex cats was still ai generated but had more "aesthetic qualities" would it be art? if someone copies the original image by hand with all its ai generated faults where is the value generated? does the original still have no merit of its own, even after appropriation as a digital ready-made?

but the main reason as to why gay sex cats is comparable to the fountain still is because it made a lot of people with bad takes on art really really mad. and that the pissed off tags wouldn't look out of place as reaction to modern art in the 1920s. art is a flat circle

EDIT: well. putting an addendum because in retrospect more people took either or both the op and image in face value and much more self serious than ever intended. a lot of people understood the tone i was getting at, and i still stand by the questionings i added on, but still for clarification. the original comparison is not serious. it's self evidently ridiculous to compare a meme image to a historically significant artwork, the comparison was only drawn because they were both controversial to an audience, who reacted denying their status as respectively as an image and as art, and that it was funny that the negative reaction people had to the original image explicitly denied its status as art, even if the meme never had pretension to be art, so it was funny to draw a comparison and iterate on that.

i did think it was valid to bring in questionings about art and meaning because that's the reaction i saw most and wanted to make people think about the whys, and that also i do not think it's valid to base your dislike on ai art on either grounds of questioning its position and value as artwork, or even as a question of ip theft. regular degular handmade art can be soulless, repetitive, thoughtless, derivative, unethical, open and blatant theft, and much more, and that does not make it any less of an artwork. neural nets are tools that generate images by statistic correlation through human input.

the unambiguous issue with neural nets in art is its use as a tool by capital, to threaten already underpaid and overworked working artists and to keep their labor hostage under threat of total automation. in hindsight i regretted not adding the paragraph above as it was a way in which people could either misinterpret or assume things about me, but hindsight is hindsight and there's no way to predict how posts would blow up. so shrugs. i had written more posts in my blog that elaborated on that because asks would bot stop coming. and i think my takeaway is that people will reblog anything with a funny image without reading the words around it, or even closely looking at the image.

#oobs im noticing some grammar error. common translating in my mind L #ai art discourse

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ginnsbaker · 9 months ago

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit.

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it.

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her.

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too.

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night.

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous.

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day.

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt.

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real.

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force.

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up.

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground.

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope.

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm.

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.”

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought.

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply.

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change.

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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strang3lov3 · 1 month ago

Text

Downpour

Jack offers you a ride home, pulls over to wait out the storm, and fucks you. (4k)

Tags - smut, fingering, oral (f! receiving) hand jobs, unprotected piv, infidelity (Jack is married still), dirty talk, pet names (darling, sweetie, sweetheart, dear), unspecified age gap, kissing, finger sucking, bit of comeplay/come eating, reader has a bush but is otherwise undescribed #bushnation, Jack is all sweet and tender but kinda pervy too, i've headcannoned that mr. delroy is a man who comes a lot. like just so much come. references to late night with the devil but this fic can be understood without watching the movie, I write car sex uniquely in that I am not bound by physics or logic or any bullshit like that. So it’s like a Mary Poppins bag in there. Lots of room for fucking. No, don’t ask questions. Shhh. Don’t worry about it. Fic Help - @noxturnalpascal thanks for your help sweetheart ♡ i love you forever A/N - the David Dastmalchian brain worms infected me months ago and have not let me rest, so here’s this. Car sex with an older and married Jack Delroy.

I feel a little nervous about writing Jack, as I feel with all characters that are new to me. It takes me some time to find my groove. Kind comments would be appreciated 💕 maybe a prompt or two in the inbox for me to play around with if you wanna see more of him 🙏

As Night Owls comes to a close for the evening, and laughter and chatter begin to fade out, you busy yourself tidying up your station. Cleaning your makeup brushes, packing away your supplies for the weekend. You watch the television in your room and see Jack waving goodbye, shaking audience members’ hands. He’s so handsome tonight. He’s handsome every night.

You’ve been working as a makeup artist on Night Owls for about a year now. It’s a job you kind of stumbled your way into. You had won a raffle ticket to watch Night Owls live show. You were so excited to go and yet you don’t even remember who the guest was that night. You went alone, and found yourself charmed by the show’s host, Jack Delroy. While on commercial break, while the television crew changed the set, you noticed Jack glancing at you as you touched up your makeup, fidgeting and tapping his foot. You offered him a kind smile, and he approached you.

“Jack Delroy,” he said, holding out his hand. You took it, and he kissed the backs of your fingertips. Starstruck, you giggled and gave him your name, tripping over the syllables. “Beautiful name, darling.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy.”

Jack held your hand longer than what was appropriate. Realizing this, he quickly dropped it. “So, I apologize, but I'm about to be very forward. Gosh, this is very embarrassing,” he laughed awkwardly, then scratched the back of his neck. “I get a little oily in the face. The lights, you know. You wouldn’t happen to have like, a…” he trailed off, stuttering as he tried to find the right words.

You smiled and held up a finger, then dug through your makeup bag for some Mary Kay Beauty Blotter sheets your friend had given you. “Here.” You held the pack sheets out for the handsome talk show host. “Would these help?”

Jack took the sheets from you and inspected them.

“And this,” you added, handing him your mirror compact. “You just press one of the sheets against your skin.”

Jack grinned kindly, then took one of the small sheets and pressed it on his forehead and his long, gorgeous nose. “You are a lifesaver,” he said. “There. This is much better. I’m almost as pretty as you now, huh?”

Your cheeks warmed and you looked down at your lap to hide your smile.

“Apologies, I’ve been told I'm a chronic flirt.”

“I don’t really mind,” you told him softly.

Jack pressed his lips together in a smile and nodded, then sat in the empty seat next to you. “Alright,” he said, “This is an odd question, but I’d like to toss it out there anyway because you seem to know what you’re doing with this kind of stuff. We’re short a makeup artist here at Night Owls. It’s unorthodox, I know, but you wouldn’t happen to be interested in–”

You gasp. “I’d love to. Yes.”

“--Being our makeup artist,” Jack finished, chuckling at your excitement.

“Sorry, I just - oh god, I’d really love to,” you gushed. Jack opened his mouth to speak further, but was called back to set.

“Stick around after the show, will you?” Jack winked.

“I will, Mr. Delroy.”

And that’s how it happened. The job was simple: A little powder here, moisturizer there, hairspray to seal it all off. Nothing complicated, and it paid well. Lots of perks and advantages, like meeting TV stars and music artists. You consider yourself lucky.

Perhaps your favorite part of the job is getting Jack ready for his shows. You’re no stranger to his handsomeness, but it’s special to experience it the way you do. To wash his face, moisturize it, paint a little makeup on his skin - as if he even needs it. “Make sure you cover up my crows feet, please, darling,” Jack said, pointing to his perceived flaws in the mirror. “Gosh, I’m getting so old. Don’t get old.”

“Noted,” you told him.

“And my hair, could you use a bit of that makeup to cover up my grays? They look so much worse on the screen.”

Your heart broke a little. He’s always asked you to cover his wrinkles, but covering his grays was new. You hate doing it. That’s your least favorite part of the job.

“Oh, but they don’t look so bad, Mr. Delroy.” You combed your fingers through his hair, inspecting the silvery strands he complained about. They look so beautiful against the inky black rest of his hair.

“Jack,” he corrected. “Just Jack. Who says they don’t look so bad?”

“I um…” you hummed, nervously messing with his hair. “Just fans, some of your fans kind of like it.”

“Do they, now?” Jack teased, his eyebrow cocked. He laughed at your bashfulness as you stuttered something in defense. So shy, so sweet.

Jack loves you all the same. He loves the special affection he gets from you as you get him ready each night, he loves getting to peek down your shirt. But he plays the gentlemanly act well, never going further than a little harmless flirting. It’s fun to make you squirm, tease you for your little crush on him. He’s not oblivious to it.

When the Night Owls theme finally ends and the studio lights go out, you get a phone call at your station. You hold the receiver up to your ear. “Hello?”

“It’s Shar,” the voice says. Sharon is your roommate, and also your ride to and from work most nights. She drops you off at the studio before her shift, then picks you up after the show ends each night. Tonight, however, she’s at a party. “I met this guy, and I wanna go home with him. So that means…” Sharon doesn’t finish the sentence. She sounds guilty.

“But you’re my ride, Shar,” you complain. “And they’re saying it’ll rain. What am I gonna do?”

“I promise I’m gonna make it up to you, okay? Don’t be mad. You’re not mad.”

“Sharon,” you groan.

Sharon says your name. “Just listen - he’s so fucking hot, seriously. He’s like a movie star.”

“A movie star, huh?”

“Don’t judge. Like you wouldn’t fuck Jack Delroy if you could. You know what, why don’t you ask him for a ride?” Sharon teases.

“No way, not happening. He’s married, and his wife is sick. Absolutely not.”

“Pussy.” Sharon pauses. “If you really don’t have another way home, I’ll come get you.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I can take the bus, I guess. But you owe me.”

“I do owe you,” Sharon says, “I owe you so much. I love you. Bye. Be safe.”

“You be safe,” you quip. “Condoms.”

Honestly, you’re not mad. Is it an inconvenience, sure. But Sharon works hard and deserves a nice night, and she’s right - you’d fuck your movie - television - star crush if you could too. You’ve taken the bus before, and it’s usually empty this time of night. It’ll be fine.

You grab your purse, pull your knit cardigan over your torso and walk out of the studio, down the hall, then take the elevator down to the lobby. Through light rain, you walk down the street until you’re at a bus station, then sit down on the bench. A gust of wind nearly knocks you over, causing you to shiver and pull your cardigan tighter around your body as you wait for the bus.

At least you don’t have to wait for long, though. Headlights approach, and the vehicle slows down. Except, it’s not the bus you were expecting. It’s a cerulean ‘74 Buick Electra, Jack’s car. He pulls over and leans across the seat to crank the window down. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for the bus,” you yell. Rain’s starting to come down harder, now, soaking your clothes. Jack makes a face and motions for you to get into his car. You wave him off, “It’s okay. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Nonsense! Get in the car.”

“It’s really okay, Mr. Delroy.”

Jack rolls his eyes. He gets out of his car and rounds the front of it, then takes your hand and pulls you up from the bench. “I’m not asking. I am telling you, as your boss, to get in my car.”

Jack opens the passenger door and ushers you inside, then shuts your door and gets into the driver’s seat. “It’s supposed to be the storm of the century out there, and you’re gonna let it blow you right away. Crazy girl.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy,” you murmur sheepishly.

Jack puts the car into first gear and takes off. “What’ve I told you about calling me Mr. Delroy? Jack, sweetie. Just Jack.”

“I’m sorry, M- Jack.”

“Too sweet for your own good, you know that? Always so polite. Where am I taking you, sweetheart?”

“It’s a little bit far. You’re just gonna take this road for a while,” you instruct. “And then I’ll tell you where to turn. I’m not in the city proper.”

“Must be nice,” Jack replies. “Quiet.”

You shrug. “Sometimes. Not usually. My roommate is kind of noisy.”

Jack chuckles. “The roommate days, gosh. I don’t miss those a bit.” He pauses, thinks of something to say to fill the silence. “You don’t usually take the bus, do you?”

“Not usually, no,” you answer. “My roommate gives me a ride most of the time. But she ditched me tonight, so…”

“That’s a real shame.”

The rain starts to pick up a little more. Jack squints and at the road and increases the speed of his windshield wipers. He tries talking to you, but you can’t hear him over the drumming of rain against his car. Thunder booms, the drumming becomes louder and the windshield is nearly impossible to see out of. Jack has slowed the car down to a crawl, but when hail begins to fall from the sky, he pulls over. He shifts his car into neutral, then pulls the emergency brake to keep the car from rolling. Jack leans in close so you can hear him, “We’re just gonna wait out the storm, okay? It’s not safe to keep driving.”

“Yeah, that seems smart,” you agree. You’re thankful Jack showed up when he did, and that he’s keeping you safe in his car. If you listen closely, you can hear the faint sound of music playing on his stereo. You still feel a little nervous, though. Maybe it’s the storm, or the jitters of being alone with Jack - older, married, handsome Jack. You shiver in your wet cardigan.

“You’re cold,” Jack says. He tugs on your sweater, “Let’s get this off of you, huh? Not gonna let you catch a cold on my watch.” He peels the sweater off of you entirely, then lays it in his backseat. “And look, watch this–” Jack presses a button on his dashboard, a little orange light glows beneath the tiny image of a seat. Within a few seconds, the leather underneath you begins to warm. “Neat, huh? That should warm you up nicely.”

You still look cold, it’s evident in the way you hold yourself. Shoulders curled inward, hands clasped together. Jack thinks about holding you close, using his body to warm yours, but decides against it. You want it too, but you’ll never initiate touch.

You look out of the raindrop-covered window at the creepy woods off to the side, the trees illuminated by the lightning. Jack sees the worry on your face reflected on the glass. “Everything alright, sweetie?”

“It’s just the woods,” you answer. “I don’t know. I don’t like it. I’ve heard about…I don’t know. Scary stuff happens there.”

“Like what?”

“Satanic rituals or something. The occult, that kind of stuff. I’ve heard about it on TV.”

Jack lies to assure you, “It’s all make-belive,” he says, pushing down his own memories of The Grove. The sickly sweet smell of decaying leaves, sticks and branches crunching beneath his feet. The cold, metallic cup against his lips, that awful taste of whatever it is he drank. “But don’t look at the woods. Just look over here, right at me.” Jack turns your face toward his, then taps your nose. “There’s that beautiful smile.”

You grin even wider. You know it’s just his nature, that it’s his job to be charming and likable, charismatic and sweet. It makes you feel so special and seen nonetheless.

Jack smiles too. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He admires the details in your face for a minute, your perfect nose, sparkling eyes, your pretty lips. His eyes travel lower, tracing the endlessly beautiful curves of your body - breasts, waist, hips, thighs. There’s a rip up high on your nylons, just below your ridden-up skirt. He furrows his brows and touches your bare skin with his finger, “What happened here?”

“Oh.” You touch the tear with your finger, just a hair away from Jack’s. “My cat, Felix. He ripped my tights.”

“Sounds like Felix is a real troublemaker, huh?”

“Oh, he can be,” you giggle quietly. “But I love him anyway.”

Jack keeps his finger on the hole in your nylons, now drawing lines back and forth over your thighs with the rest of his fingers. Little goosebumps erupt on your skin in their wake. “You’re still so cold, darling. What am I gonna do with you?” Another shrug, another shy smile. “Come here,” Jack whispers. He wraps his strong hands around your legs and pulls you across the seat so that your legs are lying across his, and your torso curled into his own. Fuck, he smells good. His cologne is musky and spicy and masculine. You’re so close, Jack can feel your heart pounding nervously. But he says nothing about it, doesn’t want to embarrass you. Instead, Jack just gazes at you warmly, still tracing patterns on your leg. “You’re such a gorgeous girl, have I ever told you that?” He pushes a bit of your hair behind your ear, sending tingles down your neck and spine.

“Jack,” you whisper, elongating his name. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious, darling. If only I were a younger man…If I hadn’t married…” He moves his hand from your ear to your mouth, pulling down on your bottom lip with his thumb. God, you’re so soft. Desire is building within Jack, taking control over his sensibilities. And you, too young and enchanted by Jack fucking Delroy to listen to any inhibitions in your head telling you that you should stop this.

Jack pushes his thumb past your lips and you suck on it gently, so gently, the blunt little edges of your teeth tickling his fleshy skin. Arousal quickly builds in Jack, the sensation overwhelming him and bubbling over. He pulls his thumb from your mouth and holds your cheeks in both of his hands, inching closer to you bit by bit. Jack licks his lips, he’s about to do it. Finally, he does. Jack closes the gap between you by pressing his lips against yours, kissing you softly. He’s relaxed and controlled, but the way you kiss him is desperate and a little tentative. In time and with encouragement from Jack, how he squeezes you and growls against your lips, you find your confidence. You kiss him fervently, tasting him, savoring the softness of his tongue.

Jack takes your hand and presses it against his warm bulge. You gasp, “But your wife–”

“Shh, quiet. She’s not here, now is she?”

“N-no,” you stutter.

“No. It’s just us. You-” Jack unzips his pants and pulls his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. He spits into your palm and has you hold his length, then closes his hand around yours. “-And me.”

With your hand under Jack’s, he pumps his cock. “Oh, that’s good. You’re my good girl,” he breathes.

Jack grips his cock tighter and kisses you again. “Oh, Jack,” you moan. Jack helps you to stroke him from base to tip, your pinky finger brushing against that patch of coarse hair at his pelvis, thumb rubbing over his weeping head.

“Just like this, darling. All the way up, all the way down. Just like this. You’re doing so well.”

Jack twitches in your hand as you feel every thick vein and ridge on his cock. He urges you to pump him faster and at the same time, touches you. He gropes your breasts first, breasts he’s dreamed of touching since he first laid eyes on you. He unbuttons your blouse and slides his hand beneath your bra to squeeze your flesh, tease your nipples. Jack relishes in your body, how supple, soft, warm and wanting you are. You touch him like you love him and Christ, Jack can’t wait to bury himself inside you. Feel that warm, wet embrace of a young woman’s cunt.

“Do you let other men touch you like this, sweetheart?” Jack asks, unzipping your skirt and shoving his hand down the front of your nylons. He toys with the arousal-dampened hair that’s spattered on your mound, then slips his fingers past your lips. “Older men, huh? Married men?”

“N-no, Jack. Just you. Only you.”

“Do you like being touched like this?” You stutter out a frantic, breathy ‘yes’. “Dirty girl. It’s always girls like you.”

Jack circles your clit with his fingertips, then presses two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. “Distracted, are we?” he murmurs as your hand that strokes his cock slows to a still, so focused on how Jack pleasures you that you forget about his needs.

“H - what?” Jack chuckles and gives your hand a squeeze to remind you. “Oh, I’m s - sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” God, you are such a precious girl, and Jack is a lucky man. He breaks away from you just for a moment to undress himself, shoving his pants down his thighs and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Once bare, Jack turns to you and finds that little tear in your nylons again, then rips the hole wider up the garment. He yanks the nylons and your panties off of your legs and puts them with the rest of his discarded clothes, tucking them away for later. He removes your skirt next, followed by your bra and your blouse. You breathe heavily as Jack takes in your naked form, even more beautiful than he pictured. He needs you now, needs to taste you.

Jack pushes you gently onto your back, laying you out across the bench seat before sinking to his knees on the floor of his Buick. He wraps his strong forearms around your still rain-cold thighs and pulls you close, close enough so that you can feel his hot breaths on your slick pussy. Jack could eat you alive right now.

He spits on your pussy, then rubs your folds with his fingers, paying special attention to your clit. He spreads your lips wide and admires your shiny, glistening center. “My, look at this mess,” Jack marvels, admiring your creamy arousal. He tastes you then, pressing a soft kiss against your core. Jack inhales deeply, taking in your scent, feeling your hair against his shaven face. His tongue darts from between his lips and he licks you up and down, dipping his tongue inside you.

“Jack, oh my - yes,” you gasp, your hands tugging on his graying strands of black hair. Jack slowly licks a long stripe up your seam with his tongue flat against you, all the way from your asshole to clit. “Jack.”

The mess he’s reduced you to. All broken moans, desperate, needy cries of his name. Jack smiles against your cunt and continues licking and lapping at the sensitive part of you. He traces your folds, sucking them between his lips. He draws circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue next, driving you wild. “You like this, darling, don’t you? You like having this pretty pussy eaten?”

All you can do is nod. Jack closes his lips around your clit and sucks, causing you to clamp your thighs around his head and pull his hair tightly between your fingers. Jack forces you apart so that all you can do is take it, all that relentless, smoldering pleasure.

Jack intensifies it all by pushing a finger inside you and curling it, stroking that sensitive part of you. Within seconds you’re coming, rocking your hips against his face as you ride out your high.

There’s barely a comedown. Jack crawls over your body, one foot planted on the floor of the car and the other kneeling on the seat. He reaches behind the front seat for his suit jacket and bunches it up, then fits it between your head and the passenger door. “Don’t want your pretty little head to get hurt is all,” Jack says.

He holds his cock between his thumb and his forefinger before he lines up with your entrance. His cock is big, perfectly lengthy and girthy. You tense up a bit as he fits his cockhead inside of you, “Easy, darling. Take it all for me,” he coos.

You inhale deeply, and on your exhale Jack pushes himself inside of you in full. “Ohhh,” you moan. It’s such a tight fit, he fills you so fully. The aching burn of the stretch takes time to dissipate as Jack rubs your hip. After a moment, Jack pulls out of you, then inches his way back in. Your face previously scrunched in pain is now relaxed, soft little noises of pleasure escaping your lips. “That’s it, good girl,” Jack says. “Wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Jack laces his fingers between yours and uses his other hand to brace himself on the back of the car seat. Jack begins thrusting, not quite fucking you gently. It builds quickly, the pace both harder and faster. Jack rocks his hips into you at that perfect angle to have you writhing on his cock, the head of it kissing the most sensitive place inside of you over and over. You bury your face into him, the hair on his chest tickling your face.

“Fuck,” Jack grunts, fucking you deeper. He knows he should be more gentle than this, but he can’t be helped. He loses himself inside of you, growling like an animal as he fucks his cock into you. You’re squirming beneath him, muscles tensing against his as you begin to cry, overwhelmed by it all. “Such a filthy fucking girl, crying on my cock. You’re okay, sweetie.”

Jack rolls his hips quickly and fluidly so that his pubic bone is grinding against your mound, the friction inching you closer and closer to a second release, but it isn’t quite enough. You rock your hips to match Jack’s thrusts, needing more against your clit. “M-More please, Jack,” you beg. “I wanna come, Jack, make me come again.”

While still fucking you, Jack spits onto two of his fingertips, then fits his hand between your bodies. He finds your sensitive bud and rubs it, using the momentum of his thrusts to bring you to climax once more. “Come for me, sweetheart. Give - fucking give it to me.”

Jack rounds your clit with his fingers, putting harder pressure against it. In moments, you’re coming for him again, this orgasm more intense than the last. Your moans are louder, more frantic. Your face scrunches in pleasure as you pulse around Jack’s cock, urging his own release along. “Good girl, good fucking girl.”

Jack growls into your ear as he spills into you, milking himself entirely. He fills you with his come, so warm inside you, the throbbing of his cock so pleasurable and satisfying. Dampened with sweat, Jack presses his forehead against yours as he fucks you through his orgasm, then slows to a still. He hisses a little when he pulls out of your cunt, his spend dripping from your hole onto the leather. Jack collects this mess with his finger, then pushes the digit into your mouth as he catches his breath.

It’s all quiet, save for a few scattered raindrops and the sound of you and Jack both catching your breath. Jack breaks the silence. “Well hey, how about that. The storm passed, huh? Was really something, too. I’m glad we pulled over,” Jack laughs nervously. He helps you dress yourself as best as he can, then haphazardly dresses himself too. You smile a little, and Jack touches your face. “You alright, darling?”

“I’m okay,” you answer, still a little tearful. Jack smiles sympathetically and pulls you into his side, then shifts his car into gear.

“Well, let’s get you home, then.”

TY for reading! Comments, reblogs, all of that good stuff would be so appreciated ♡

#jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #Jack delroy x reader smut #jack delroy smut #late night with the devil #david dastmalchian #david Dastmalchian characters #strang3lov3 #jack delroy/reader #jack delroy/you

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scorpioriesling · 2 months ago

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Invisible String - Part 2

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): light angst if you squint. Please be advised; future parts might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't begin the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You paced back and forth awkwardly around your room, not sure what to do with your time. Normally, you'd give Riley a bath and see her off to bed -- but not tonight. Her father had come home during dinner today, and you almost couldn't believe your eyes when he'd materialized before the both of you in the dining room.

Gods, you'd never seen her so excited to see him come home in all the time you'd known the two. She truly missed him when he was gone, just waiting to see her dad come home at the end of the day. You understood; to be honest, you worried some nights when he would be gone late, always apologizing like his timing was the end of the world. He failed to realize that it was his safe return you were more concerned with.

You paused, shrieks of laughter heard from the opposite end of the Wing and you smiled to yourself. Padding over to your open doorway, you peeked your head out, listening as Eris' faint voice spoke with his daughter, saying something that had her giggling once more before you heard the distinct sound of her door latching shut. You retreated back into your room, trying to find anything to busy yourself as the sound of his shoes drew nearer toward your room.

"Could I offer any help with the last of those?" Eris asks, leaning casually against the doorframe as he gestures toward the stack of heavy boxes piled in the corner of your room. You turn, crossing your arms and then uncrossing them, not quite finding a comfortable position.

"Um... well, I could probably get them, tomorrow." You shrug, biting on your lower lip. Eris' eyes study your face for a long moment before he chuckles, walking over to the pile and pushing up his sleeves with such grace. He lifts the top box, his arms flexing under the weight as he adjusts his grip under the edges.

You try, really, really hard not to stare.

"I'll leave these outside to be picked up in the morning, unless you needed them to be kept for something?" He asks, and you all but shake your head before he heads out of your room, leaving you in awe. You shake your head, get it together. That is your boss, for Gods sakes. You take a deep breath, pushing your hair behind your ears before reaching for the next highest box, barely reaching the upper rim before its contents nearly spill over on top of you.

"Cauldron damned-" your curse is cut off when the box doesn't completely dump out on to you, but is caught haphazardly between your hands and one of Eris'. His other one is wrapped around your waist, preventing your impending collision with the floor.

"Woah! Woah," he says, his voice much closer than you expected and you open your eyes you'd inadvertently squeezed shut. He loomed over you, holding you so close to his chest that you sucked in a breath, your eyes widening when they met his peering down at you.

"I'm..." you made to stand, and he lifted the cardboard from your hands. "I thought I could help with that one." You said sheepishly. He chuckled, glancing sidelong at you.

"Always trying to do everything," he muttered. "Honestly, I'm just surprised to hear Y/N actually say a bad word out loud."

You set your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow and ignoring his teasing remark.

"This is my mess, anyhow. I was just trying to help."

He turns, heading for the door once more.

"Allow me to help you for once, hm?" He says, winking and walking out. You roll your eyes, irritated at how warm your cheeks feel. You flit about the room, putting random smaller items away and folding a few articles of clothing as Eris makes the last few trips. When he comes back in for the final time, he sits on the edge of your bed with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You look to him, noticing his exhaustion from the day again. "Thank you," you say, and he looks to you again. He offers you a small smile, leaning back on his hands.

"For all that you've done, helping you move a few boxes is incomparable." Your lips curve upward as you place a few more of your skirts inside the drawers of the dresser, averting his eye. After a few shared moments of quiet, he speaks again.

"This room... its... I'm glad someone is using it again." He says, his hand running softly over the duvet. You glance at him, his fallen expression puzzling as you go about tidying up.

"Oh?"

He's quiet again before he looks at you. "I used to avoid coming in here, after... well, after Selene left." He says quietly, and you pause. The air feels thick, you try to keep breathing evenly as your mind races.

"She... the two of you didn't share...?"

"No." He whispers, looking at the floor. "She thought only mates should share a room."

You shoved the drawer closed, walking slowly to the bedside and sitting next to him.

"I'm sure this is common knowledge by now, but our marriage was simply a transaction, a sign of goodwill between our courts." He let out a humorless laugh. "No magic, golden thread there."

For everything he'd done for his court, all the battles he'd won, every fight he'd fought and all he'd witnessed... this was a subject he rarely discussed, as it seemed tomdrag him down the most.

"Eris..." You said softly, reaching out a hand timidly and placing it on his arm. He braced lightly against the touch, and you leaned closer. "I'm so sorry that you were treated that way-"

He sniffed, his hand rubbing along his jaw quickly before he stood, your outstretched hand slowly retracting with the distance between you two.

"It's alright. Nothing for you to worry about, anyway." He flashed a humorless half-smile, and you stared up at him with concern. You could tell it was a tough subject for him, and you definately didn't want to pry; but he didn't exactly have many other people to open up to.

"Well... alright then." You say defeatedly. He nods, turning and heading for the door. He looks over his shoulder only once more before closing the door behind him.

"Sleep well, Y/N."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Apple juice, please?" Riley asks, and you pour her a fresh glass, delivering it to her awaiting hand. She sips quietly, then blinks a few times when you sit down beside her. "Oh -- thanks!" She smiles.

You nod, silently praising her good mannered habits. You could still remember when you arrived at the Forest House, the little spitfire was ordering people around at the ripe age of three. "Give this!" and "Do that!" was all she managed, and though her heart was pure, you did encourage better etiquitte; luckily, it stuck.

"Daddy said he have a surprise," she swung her legs under the table, some of her juice swishing in her cup. You raised an eyebrow.

"Did he, now?" You weren't sure what she was talking about, or if there really was a surprise at all. Eris had made haste this morning, rushing past you this morning on his way out the door. He'd barely kissed his daughter goodbye before he was on his horse and halfway to the border-

"He did! He said he had one." She insisted, and you nodded in understanding. What it could be, you had no clue.

"Well, lets finish our dinner so we're ready when he gets home, yes?" You suggest, and Riley agrees, jamming the last of her chicken nuggets into her mouth and chewing with maximum effort. You shake your head, smiling at just how normal the girl was. You were just glad she found joy in chicken nuggets still, and didn't request challenging dishes every meal quite yet.

Insisting on wearing her fluffy pink footie pajamas, Rylie then sat in your lap on the couch, her stuffed beagle clutched in her hands as you brushed out her wet-clean locks.

"Braid it pretty?" She asks, and you leaned in, kissing the top of her little head. She grinned, holding her little beagle's head to her lips and kissing it's head just the same.

"Anything for you, Riles," you say, getting to work on the long strawberry strands. She sits very patiently for a four year old; that is, until you've secured the band at the end of your work and the front door creaks open.

"Daddy!" She's up in an instant, running to the door with glee and clinging to her father's leg the moment she spots him. You stay seated a moment longer, listening from the living area but not quite ready to see Eris yet. After the tense conversation last night, you couldn't help but feel... awkward, after the conversation.

After a few minutes, Riley has retreated to the living room looking rather dejected. Your brows knit as she stalks toward you, her beagle hanging limply from her fingers.

"Daddy says bedtime. You take me please?" She says, looking down at the floor. You frown, your hands lifting under her arms as she wraps her legs around your waist.

"Of course sweetie," you try to sound upbeat, but she only lays her head on your shoulder. You pet her head, wrapping your other hand around her to keep her propped up against your waist as you make your way to her end of the Wing. You look around as you go, not seeing any sign of Eris on your way. He literally just got home, what the Hell could he possibly have to do right now?

Once you reach her room, you place her gently atop her plush duvet, her eyes half closed when her head touches the pillow. You pull a loose blanket over her legs, knowing sometimes she gets cold at night, and kiss her little cheek one last time before moving toward the door.

"Y/N," she whispers. Your eyes meet hers in the dim light, your fingers stalling as they reach for the glowing tableside lamp.

"Yes dear?"

"Can you please read? Please?" Her bottom lip trembles. "D-daddy always reads... he reads my book..." she sucks in a breath of air, and you rush over to her bed, taking her little hand in yours.

"Yes, of course honey!" You say, hoping she will feel better. "I would love to read you a story," you look left and right, searching for any tomes near her bed. She lifts a limp hand, her finger pointing to the book resting at the opposite end of her bed.

"You'd like that one? The Kissing Hand?" She nods, one tear slipping free and running down her cheek. You hastily grab the book, and she scoots over, making a space for you to lay beside her. You scoot close, reaching an arm around her and she snuggles close as you flip open the book. Her little fingers wipe her tear from her cheek, and you begin to read.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren't sure when you'd drifted off, but when you slipped back into consciousness, your back ached from its cramped position on the small bed. You looked around, the darkened room coming into view as well as the peacefully sleeping babe next to you.

You must have fallen asleep reading to her, you thought. Surely you'd left the lamp on though; its glow would come in handy now as you tried to slip silently out of her embrace, sneaking out in absolute darkness. At least the door was still cracked open.

You'd stumbled around quietly enough and made it down the hallway to the kitchen, the clock on the wall coming into view.

Four in the morning. Gods.

You kept walking, feeling along the walls until you found your bedroom door, and let yourself inside.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You woke up that morning to the delicious smell of cinnamon and sugar, the comfort of your plush bed surrounding you as the first light of day drifted through your curtains. You yawned, stretching out your arms and slowly opening your eyes.

Ahh, what a lovely morning.

Morning. The sun was out.

You threw the covers off of you hastily, your bare feet hitting the cold wood floors in a rush as you lunged for your door handle. Riley was surely awake by now, and surely starving. You bounded down the hallway, your steps faltering when you heard her familiar ramblings from the kitchen and registered the smell of food wafting through the air.

As you approached, you watched in pure shock as Eris stood over the kitchen island, his hand holding his daughters as he helped her spread icing over a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, smiling and talking along with her. He hadn't noticed you walk in; but she sure did.

"Y/N! Finally! You're awake!" She squealed happily, and you forced a smile, still confused by the scene before you. Eris looked up then, his eyes meeting yours only briefly before he went back to the treats he was making.

"Good morning Riley," you said hesitantly, stepping closer toward the island. Eris' eyes flicked up again, snagging on the silk pajamas you'd changed into before collapsing onto your bed last night. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Good morning. Eris." You said, and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Morning Y/N." He said plainly before turning to Riley, lifting her off the counter and setting her on the ground.

"Bunny, why don't you set the table," he handed her the silverware and a few plates. "And we'll join you in just a few minutes?" She nods, skipping into the dining room, as Eris braces his hands against the countertop, his eyes locked on yours once more.

You stare back, shrugging when you can't understand the point of standing in silence. "What?" You ask. He sighs, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for the... discussion. We had. The other night, it was... highly, unprofessional." He nodded, looking down at the pan of cinnamon rolls once more. You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh erupting from your lips and causing him to flick his gaze to you again.

"What is funny?" He asks, seeming a bit taken aback.

"Nothing, no," you say, smiling softly at him. "I just... Eris, I live in your home. I spend every day with your daughter. I think we're beyond professional, aren't we?" You say. He cocks his head to the side, a small smirk curving the side of his lips.

"I suppose we are, then."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Daddy. These cimanim rolls. Are. Delicious!" Riley grins with delight, Eris' expression a mirror of his daughter sitting next to him at the table. You watch the two and your heart swells; one day, you could only dream of having something so special as that.

"Why, thank you Princess!" Eris says, and she holds her chin high. You shake your head at her, and Eris' eyes meet yours, his face giving away exactly what he's thinking. After a few more quiet moments, he speaks up again.

"Bunny, I wanted to ask you about doing something fun today," he says, and Riley immediately perks up.

"Fun?" She asks, and he nods.

"In the Town Square, there is the Autumn Festival, and it would make me very happy as your daddy if you would go with me-"

"Yesss!" She shrieks, every single one of her teeth showing as she smiles in excitement. You can't help but feel so happy for her -- she deserves time with her father, and he's finally home to spend it with her, doing something she had been longing to do anyway.

"Ohmygosh I can't wait! I will wear my Princess dress so everyone knows I am a Princess, okay," she explains hastily, only pausing to take a sip from her glass of milk.

Eris nods, looking to you. "I figured you may appreciate at least a day off as well," he adds quietly, and you offer him a gentle smile. Truly, you didn't need one, but you appreciated his consideration all the same. Riley doesn't quite catch the incinuation, though.

"Y/N, you have to wear a dress. You can't borrow from me this time because you're too big," she says, hopping from her chair. "You have a dress?" She asks. Your eyes meet her dad's and his mouth opens to answer first.

"Bunny," he starts. "I don't think Y/N was going to come today," he explains. Rileys brows knit in confusion as she looks at him.

"Why not?"

"Well," he says, trying to tread lightly. "Maybe Y/N has other things she would like to do today. It's okay though; just me and you can go." He says, but Riley looks to you, her eyes looking you up and down.

"What... what else do you want to do though?" She says, and you chuckle.

"Riley, honey, today you can go have fun with your daddy, alright? Me and you play here everyday," You reason with her. She doesn't let up, and Eris studies you from across the table.

"Daddy -- can Y/N just come too?" Riley says. You sigh, looking to Eris for help, but he only stares quietly at you, a small smile on his lips.

"I really will just stay here-"

"Yes." Eris says, and you meet his eyes, Riley spinning in happy little circles at the end of the table. "Y/N can absolutely come with us today."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #a court of silver flames #acosf #a court of frost and starlight #acofas #acotar smut #eris x you #eris vanserra imagine #eris vandaddy #high lord eris #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x oc #eris fanfic #eris vanserra fanfic

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thebunnednun · 5 months ago

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Tempted to touch! Men of One piece x Fm! Reader (Multi Character fic) Part 2

Pairings: Zoro x Reader, Buggy x Reader, Law x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Sabo x Reader, Kidd x Reader, Corazon x Reader

Synopsis: Can someone write like a lil thing for Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Crocodile and/or Smoker or any One Piece character (secretly) seeing their S/O being able to whine (dance) and having crazy waist control (being able to bounce their ass without movin anything else)? 🧍🏻‍♀️

A little something for @mororona who gave me the prompt.

Use these songs:

Tempted to Touch by Rupee Zoro, Buggy, Rosinante

Nina Sky - Move Ya Body Kidd, Sabo,

Aventura - La Novelita Sanji, Law, Sanji

Or use any song you want *Shrugs*

I'ma also tag @fanaticsnail I added two special someones for you!!~

In honor of me reaching 100 followers I have prepared many stories for you all. Thank you to everyone who supported me through my hiatus. <33 ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯

On with the show!!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zoro

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Thousand Sunny. The crew was scattered around the deck, enjoying a rare moment of peace.

Luffy and Usopp were engaged in a loud, animated conversation, while Nami and Robin sipped on drinks, sharing a quieter exchange. Sanji was in the kitchen, preparing a late-night snack for everyone, and Franky was tinkering with one of his inventions. Brook’s gentle strumming on his guitar added a serene backdrop to the scene.

Zoro, ever the loner, had retreated to a quiet corner of the deck. He leaned against the railing, one hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword, the other holding a half-empty bottle of sake. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be resting, but in truth, he was always alert, always ready.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪ ~

As the night grew darker, a soft, rhythmic beat began to echo across the deck. Zoro opened one eye, scanning the area for the source of the sound. His gaze landed on you and Chopper, standing near the center of the deck, your eyes closed, lost in your own world. Brooks music seemed to flow through you, guiding your movements.

Zoro's interest piqued as he watched you start to move. You swayed your hips with a grace and fluidity that was mesmerizing. The rest of your body remained still, save for your waist, which moved with a hypnotic rhythm. It was a skillful dance, one that required incredible control and strength. You were whining,and you were doing it flawlessly.

You were completely unaware of your audience. The other crew members continued their activities, oblivious to your impromptu performance. Zoro, however, couldn’t take his eyes off you. There was something captivating about the way you moved, something almost primal. He felt a strange mix of emotions—pride, admiration, and an unfamiliar heat that stirred deep within him.

Zoro’s grip on his bottle tightened as you shifted your movements, your hips now bouncing in a way that defied logic. It was as if the rest of your body had frozen in time, leaving only your waist to express the rhythm of the music. He had seen many things in his travels, but this was new, this was different.

As the song reached its crescendo, you finished with a graceful spin, finally opening your eyes. Your gaze met Zoro’s, and you froze, realizing you had an audience.

"[Name]-chan, why did you stop?" The little reindeer whined, wanting to be spun in your arms again. However, he stopped seeing the flustered swordsman and you locked in a staring match.

A blush spread across your cheeks, but Zoro’s expression was unreadable. He took a swig from his bottle, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Didn’t know you could dance like that,” he said, his voice low and appreciative.

You laughed nervously, running a hand through your hair. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Moss-head.”

He smirked, pushing off the railing and walking towards you. “Guess I’ll have to stick around and find out, then.”

"Are you guys flirting?"

"NO!"

Chopper let out some little giggles as he tugged your hand into his smaller one and almost dragged you to Zoro. Shockingly, the moss-head put down his bottle and picked up Chopper, placing him on his shoulders before offering a hand to you.

"Would you dance with me?"

You looked quickly between him and his outstretched palm before nodding and grabbing on.

As Zoro closed the distance between you, you could see the intensity in his eyes. The night was far from over, and you had a feeling it would be one to remember.

Buggy

It was a late night in the Big Top, and Buggy found himself tossing and turning, unable to sleep. His mind swirled with the day’s frustrations and petty annoyances. Costumes not right, Alvida roasting him, Richie almost eating some of the audience members. He grumbled to himself, contemplating another sleepless night when the faint sound of music reached his ears. It was a soft, rhythmic melody, entirely out of place at this hour.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪ ~

Annoyed, Buggy sat up and stomped towards the source of the disturbance. "Who the hell is playing music at this time?" he muttered under his breath, ready to bellow at whoever it was to, "Shut that damn music off!"

As he approached the main performance area, he stopped short. There, under the dim spotlight of the Big Top, he saw you, his shyest performer. Your back was to him, and you seemed completely absorbed in your dance, unaware of his presence.

The Big Top, usually bustling with noise and activity, was eerily silent save for the music. The moonlight filtered through the tent’s small windows, casting a gentle glow on your figure. You moved with an ethereal grace, your body swaying to the rhythm. Buggy’s eyes widened as he watched you, mesmerized.

You had always been reserved, avoiding the spotlight and keeping to yourself. But here, in the privacy of the night, you had shed your inhibitions, revealing a side of yourself that was both captivating and unexpected. Your eyes were closed, and a serene smile played on your lips as you moved to the rhythm of the music.

Your hips moved with a hypnotic precision, swaying and bouncing in a way that seemed almost impossible. The rest of your body remained still, a testament to your incredible control. It was a captivating sight, one Buggy couldn’t look away from.

You, the performer who always shied away from the spotlight, the one who would cry if pressed to the stage, were now the embodiment of confidence and skill. The music wrapped around you, each note guiding your movements. Your moments were so sure, rippling like water while you were completely lost in the flow of your craft.

Buggy watched you dance, each movement more enthralling than the last. The world outside the Big Top faded away, leaving only the music, your dance, and the spellbinding atmosphere

He leaned against the stands, his initial annoyance long forgotten. There was something enchanting about watching you like this, seeing you so free and unrestrained. It was a stark contrast to the quiet, shy person he knew you to be during the day. Buggy felt a strange warmth in his chest, a mix of admiration and a newfound affection.

As you continued, Buggy found himself captivated not just by your skill, but by the raw emotion you poured into each step. Your usually reserved demeanor was gone, replaced by a vibrant, enchanting presence. It was as if you had shed all your inhibitions, revealing a side of yourself that was hidden beneath layers of shyness and restraint.

The music continued, wrapping around you like a gentle embrace, guiding your every step. Buggy marveled at your skill and the way you seemed to place your heart into each movement. It was as if you were sharing a part of yourself that no one else had seen, a secret side that only the night and the music could coax out.

‘Beautiful,’

Buggy’s heart pounded as he observed you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He took a step back, careful not to make a sound. Buggy didn’t want to disturb this private moment, this secret display of your talent. The last thing he wanted was to break the spell you had unknowingly cast.

As the music slowly came to an end, you finished your dance with a final, graceful flourish. You stood there for a moment, breathing heavily but with a peaceful smile on your face, eyes closed.

Buggy took another step back, he didn’t want you to know he had been watching, not yet.

With one last lingering glance at you, Buggy turned and walked away, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew he would never look at you the same way again. The shy little performer he had thought he knew was gone, replaced by a captivating dancer with an irresistible charm.

That morning, Buggy carried the memory of your dance with him, a secret treasure he was happy to keep all to himself. It was a reminder that beneath the surface, there was always more to discover, and sometimes, the most beautiful things were found in the most unexpected places.

Law

It was late at night on the Polar Tang, and Law found himself unable to sleep. The day's events replayed in his mind, a mix of battles, research, and the endless responsibilities that came with being a captain. Frustrated, he rose from his bed, deciding to take a walk through the quiet corridors of his submarine.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪ ~

As he wandered, he heard a faint sound of a melody drifting through the halls. It was an unusual sound at this hour, and Law's first instinct was to put a stop to it. His crew needed rest, and so did he. With a sigh, he followed the melody, preparing to tell whoever it was to shut it off.

As he neared the source, Law's sharp eyes caught sight of a figure moving gracefully in the dimly lit common room. He stopped in his tracks, his irritation melting away as he realized who it was. You, the bubbly and ever-optimistic member of his crew, were dancing, completely lost in the flow of your movements.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of a few scattered lights, casting long shadows that danced along with you. The gentle sway of the submarine did little to disturb your rhythm. Your body moved with a fluidity that left Law momentarily speechless. Your hips swayed and bounced with an effortless control, your waist moving independently from the rest of your body. It was a mesmerizing sight, one that Law couldn't look away from.

You had always been the opposite of him—confident, lively, and full of an infectious energy that endeared you to everyone. You brought light to the crew, a stark contrast to Law's often serious demeanor. But here, in the privacy of the night, you had shed your usual exuberance, revealing a side of yourself that was just as captivating and unexpected.

Your eyes were closed, a serene smile playing on your lips as you moved to the rhythm of the music. Law found himself drawn in, watching the way you danced with a mix of grace and passion. Each movement was precise, yet filled with an emotional depth that spoke of a deep connection to the music. You seemed completely unaware of his presence, lost in a world of your own creation.

He leaned against the doorway, his initial annoyance long forgotten. There was something enchanting about watching you like this, seeing you so free and unrestrained. Law felt a strange warmth crawling up his neck into his face and ears.

Just then, the music paused as the record player needed to be restarted. You opened your eyes and saw Law just standing there, causing you to jump and scream out,

"AHHH!"

Startled, Law quickly looked behind him and then back to you, his eyes wide. "[Name]-ya! What's wrong?!"

Realizing that he had scared you, Law quickly crossed the floor to you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured into your hair, holding you close. "M’Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you buried your face in his shoulder, trying to calm down. "It’s okay, you just startled me, Law-san," you mumbled, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent, a mixture of antiseptic and something uniquely him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear was soothing, gradually easing your surprise.

Law chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. He gently ran a hand down your back in a comforting gesture, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice gentle. "But I have to say, I really like your dancing. You should dance more often."

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your cheeks still flushed. His usual stern expression had softened, and there was a genuine warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. "You really think so?" you asked, a shy smile tugging at your lips despite your usual confidence.

Law nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. I do."

Feeling a surge of affection for him, you grinned. "Well then, let's start now," you whispered with your own smile to match.

A warm smile spread across Law's face as he nodded. Without another word, he pulled you closer, and the two of you began to slow dance to the quiet hum of the Polar Tang. The world outside faded away, leaving only the gentle sway of your bodies and the comforting embrace you shared.

As you danced together in the dim light, a soft, contented silence settled over you both. The bubbly, sunshine-filled crew member and the stoic, grumpy captain, finding comfort and warmth in each other's arms, dancing to the silent music of the night.

SANJIIII

Late at night on the Thousand Sunny, Sanji found himself restless. Unable to sleep, he decided to check the kitchen, suspecting that the usual culprits—Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper—might be raiding the fridge again. With a lit cigarette in his mouth and a broom in hand, he made his way towards the kitchen, ready to shoo away the mischievous trio.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩~

As he approached, he heard faint noises and peeked through the kitchen window. To his surprise, it wasn't the usual suspects. Instead, it was you, wearing his chef's apron, making a little snack for yourself.

The apron hugged your figure in a way that made his heart flutter. You were preparing a simple sandwich and a glass of water, moving gracefully around the kitchen.

Sanji's eyes softened as he watched you dance while you put everything together, a little hip wiggle accompanying your movements. He adored that wiggle, especially when you ate something delicious. It was the very reason he always tried to create dishes that would make you dance with joy.

You were somewhat of a picky eater, often opting for something like soup or a sandwich while the rest of the crew ate their hearty meals. It broke his heart a bit, thinking he couldn't satisfy your appetite despite his efforts. Yet, he continued to create new dishes, hoping to find something that would suit your palate.

Quietly, Sanji slipped into the kitchen, watching as you finished cleaning and putting away the dishes—another thing he loved about you. Your consideration for his meticulously clean kitchen warmed his heart. You took a bite of your sandwich and did that delightful hip wiggle again, bringing a soft chuckle from Sanji as he admired you.

Suddenly, you accidentally dropped your water glass, and it shattered on the floor. You squatted down to pick up the pieces, but before you could touch any, you felt a warm presence behind you.

"Hold on now, love. You could hurt yourself," a gentle voice murmured.

You gasped as the smell of nicotine found its way to your nose and turned to find Sanji’s strong arms lifting you up and seating you on the kitchen counter. Now faced towards Sanji, he smiled up at you with such fondness as he crouched down that it made you blush. He carefully swept up the glass pieces, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Sanji, how long have you been here?" you asked, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth.

"Long enough to see that wonderful dance of yours," he answered honestly, a teasing smile on his lips. "You shouldn't be embarrassed. It was quite the beautiful sight to behold."

You nibbled on your sandwich, your cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, Sanji. I didn't mean to wake you."

He sighed, his expression softening. "Don’t be ridiculous, I was already awake. I'm sorry I can't make dishes that agree with your tummy." He threw out the broken glass and set the broom back down before returning to you and adjusting the rolled up cuffs of his shirt before resting his hands on the counter.

‘Yummy,’

You shook your head, blushing. "It's not your fault! I actually include different parts of the dinner you make for us in my soup and sandwiches." You opened your sandwich to show him the seasoned meat he had made for dinner that night.

Sanji's heart soared at the sight. "Really? That makes me so happy, [Name]."

You bit your lip, looking down and playing with your fingers. "There's another reason why I don't eat in front of you, Sanji."

He tilted his head, curiosity piqued. "Why?"

You looked up, swinging your feet nervously. "I know acts of service are your love language, and I noticed you often just drink wine and eat a little bit while the crew has dinner.” You began to fidget with your fingers. “I would like it if you would sit with me during dinner and eat with me."

Sanji's cigarette slipped from his teeth, dropping to the floor. Quickly, he stomped it out, his mind raced before a smile spread across his face. He took your hands and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "I'd love that, [Name]."

You smiled brightly and tugged him into a hug, catching him by surprise. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. The two of you held each other for a while, basking in the warmth of the moment.

Sanji gently picked you up off the counter and set you down on the now clean, glass-free floor. "May I ask you a favor?"

You hummed in curiosity, looking up at him. "Of course, Sanji."

He took your hand and led you to the center of the kitchen. "Dance with me?"

Your face lit up with joy as you beamed at him. "I'd love to."

You placed your hand in his, and the two of you began to dance softly. One of his hands rested on your waist while your other hand rested on his shoulder. Slowly, you got closer, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. Both of his arms encircled your middle, and your arms wrapped around his neck. You gazed into each other's eyes, foreheads touching as you closed your eyes, enjoying the bliss of being together.

In the quiet of the kitchen, with the soft hum of the ship in the background, you danced together, finding solace and happiness in each other's embrace.

SABO

Sabo had managed to slip away from the Straw Hats during the festival, deftly navigating through the colorful crowds and festive stalls. The air was alive with the aroma of exotic foods and the joyous sounds of laughter and music. He had one mission in mind—to find you, the shyest Straw Hat, the half sea creature who usually kept away from the lively festivities.

Following the winding paths that led away from the main celebration, Sabo made his way to your usual meeting spot, a secluded cove hidden away from the bustling energy of the festival. The trees and berry bushes provide security from prying eyes.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩~

As he approached, the distant strains of music reached his ears, carried on the gentle sea breeze. The soft glow of festival lights flickered in the distance, casting playful shadows along the path and adding to the enchanting atmosphere of the night.

Upon reaching the cove, Sabo paused, taking in the sight before him. There you were, bathed in the ethereal light of the moon, your scales catching the shimmering reflections from the sea. The soft, iridescent glow of your skin mesmerized him, each scale reflecting the hues of the festival lights like tiny jewels. They glimmered softly against your body, creating an otherworldly aura around you.

You stood at the edge of the cove, your movements fluid and graceful as you danced to the music only you could hear. The band playing nearby provided a rhythmic backdrop, guiding your movements with its upbeat tempo. Sabo watched, captivated by the way your body moved with such effortless grace, every sway of your hips and twist of your body a testament to your innate connection to the sea.

‘Motion in the Ocean~’

Unable to resist, Sabo stepped forward as you spun gracefully under the moonlight. With a boldness born of longing, he reached out and gently caught you in his arms. You gasped in surprise, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of astonishment and something deeper—a silent energy between you.

Without a word, Sabo began to move with you, his hands finding a natural place on your waist as he guided you in a dance that transcended words. The music enveloped you both, its melody weaving around your intertwined bodies like a delicate thread, binding you together in a shared moment of intimacy.

Your scales brushed against his hands, their texture smooth and cool to the touch, yet somehow soft and inviting. Sabo marveled at the contrast between your delicate scales and the warmth of your skin beneath, a sensation that sent a thrill through him with each fleeting touch.

As you danced, the distance between you melted away, leaving only the raw emotion and desire that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. Sabo's touch was tender yet firm, his gaze never leaving yours as he communicated his feelings through the language of movement and touch.

The song continued, each beat a heartbeat that echoed the rhythm of your shared dance. The festival lights twinkled in the background, casting a magical glow over your intertwined forms. The moonlight bathed you both in its soft, silvery light, highlighting the contours of your faces and the sparkle in your eyes.

As the final notes of the song drifted away, you both stood still, your hands clasped together, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. The intensity of the moment hung between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that had brought you together under the moonlit sky.

"Again?"

"Again!"

With that, you both moved together once more, the world around you fading into the background as you lost yourselves in the dance of passion and longing. The only language needed was your moving bodies and the shimmering magic of the night.

Kidd

Amidst the vibrant festival lights and the lively atmosphere, Eustass Kid found himself observing the festivities with a skeptical eye. The air was thick with the scent of food and excitement, and the sound of music echoed through the streets.

As he navigated through the crowd, his attention was unexpectedly drawn to a figure that stood out from the revelry—a figure he didn't immediately recognize.

There she was, the crewmate he knew as somewhat reserved and always covered, now dressed in a flowing blouse and a short ruffled skirt that was raised higher with every step she took. Her mask was absent, allowing her hair to cascade freely around her shoulders. This new sight of her, smiling, laughing, and dancing without a care in the world, captivated him instantly.

She had become the center of attention in a dance circle, her movements graceful and fluid, drawing the eyes of everyone around her. Her laughter mingled with the music, a melody of joy that echoed through the night.

Kidd couldn't tear his eyes away from her—the way her eyes sparkled with mirth, her smile lighting up her face in a way he had never seen before.

Kidd was enraptured by this new side of her, so full of life and energy. It was a stark contrast to the quiet, reserved persona she usually displayed aboard the ship. He found himself drawn to her like a magnet, wanting to get closer without disrupting her dance.

Meanwhile, Killer, ever observant of his captain's moods and inclinations, noticed Kidd's fixed gaze and sharp interest. With a mischievous grin, he assumed Kidd wanted to join in on the fun and playfully slapped his back in encouragement, pushing him forward towards the dance circle with a hearty, "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

Startled by Killer's unexpected shove, Kidd stumbled forward and inadvertently bumped into the edge of the dance circle, drawing the attention of everyone, including you. At first, you looked surprised, momentarily pausing in your dance as you tried to place the interruption.

However, any annoyance quickly melted into amusement when you realized it was your captain who had stumbled into the midst of the dance. You giggled at the sight of him, his usual stern expression slightly awkward as he tried to move in sync with the music and the others around him.

Without missing a beat, you took matters into your own hands, quite literally. Grabbing Kidd's hands with a playful grin, you pulled him flush against you, guiding him through the steps of the dance with an infectious confidence. The music seemed to intensify around them, matching the fiery spirit of their impromptu dance.

Kidd, though initially caught off guard, soon found himself swept up in the rhythm of the dance and the energy radiating from you. Your touch was surprisingly gentle yet firm, leading him through the intricate steps with a natural grace that belied your usual reserved demeanor. He couldn't help but be drawn to your infectious enthusiasm and the way your laughter filled the air around them.

Each step and sway seemed to draw you closer, the rhythm syncing your movements in a sensual duet. The festival lights cast shifting patterns around you, accentuating the curve of your neck as you leaned into his touch, and the warmth of his hand on your waist, guiding you in the dance. Kidd's gaze held an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, his fingertips grazing lightly against your skin as you moved together. The air crackled with a palpable tension, charged with the electricity of desire.

Your breath mingled in the space between you, the heat of the night matching the heat rising between your entwined forms. The world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the sensation of his strong frame pressed against yours, and the undeniable attraction that had ignited between you.

The festival lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors around them, accentuating their dance with a vibrant backdrop of swirling hues. The night seemed to bend around them, the music guiding their every twist and turn, until they were lost in their own world of rhythm and passion.

With each beat of the music, you surrendered to the allure of the dance, allowing yourselves to be carried away by the intoxicating rhythm and the lingering touches of his hand on your hips and waist sending a rush of warmth through you.

At the end of the song, they stood together in the center of the circle, their hands still clasped, breaths mingling in the cool night air. Kidd couldn't suppress the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. The festival lights flickered around them, casting playful shadows over their faces as they caught their breath.

"Well, well," Kidd started, his voice low and teasing, "Who knew the prude one had such moves?" Kidd couldn't help but admire you in this liberated state, his usual gruff demeanor softened by the warmth of your smile.

Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of interest and amusement. "Surprised, Captain? I guess there's more to me than meets the eye," you replied, your tone playful yet tinged with challenge.

Kidd chuckled, a deep rumble that resonated in the night air. "Clearly," he remarked, his gaze locking with yours. "I never took you for someone who could command a dance floor."

You shrugged nonchalantly, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. "You never asked~," you quipped, stepping closer to him until your bodies were almost touching.

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of admiration crossing his features. "Maybe I should ask more often," he countered, his voice lowering to a husky murmur.

Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his gaze, your breath catching slightly. "Maybe you should," you shot back, a bratty challenge in your tone as you leaned closer to him, your faces mere inches apart.

For a moment, you stood there in the electric tension between you, the music and laughter of the festival fading into the background. It was just the two of you, caught in a dance of words and desires.

"Care to show me more of your hidden talents, then?" Kidd murmured, his voice a low, enticing growl.

A smirk played on your lips as you tilted your head, meeting his gaze head-on. "Depends," you teased, "Are ya up for the challenge?"

Kidd's eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, his hand tightening around yours. "Try me," he dared, a hint of a challenge in his voice.

With that, you pulled him back into the dance, your bodies moving together with a newfound power and intimacy. The festival continued around you, but in that moment, all that mattered was the fiery connection between you in the midst of the night's celebration.

As you danced, your banter continued, each teasing remark and playful touch fueling the chemistry that simmered between you. The festival lights illuminated your dance, casting a halo of warmth and desire around your figures as you moved in sync, drawn together by a magnetic pull that neither of you could resist.

At the end of the song, you paused once more, breathless and exhilarated from your dance. Your eyes locked, the air thick with unspoken promises and newfound understanding.

"Can you handle me?" you whispered, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Kidd smirked, his gaze never leaving yours. "I’ll fuck around and find out," he agreed, pulling you closer as you both prepared to lose yourselves once more in the intoxicating rhythm of the night.

Corazon Rosinante <3

Rosinante joined the Straw Hats and Heart Pirates at a bustling club to celebrate their latest victory. The atmosphere was alive with pulsing music and laughter, drinks flowing freely as everyone reveled in the night's festivities. Amidst the animated crowd, Cora sat quietly at the bar, nursing a glass of water, his serene expression belying the chaos around him.

You, working behind the bar as a bartender, couldn't help but notice the lone figure amidst the revelry. Curiosity sparked, you approached Rosinante with a friendly smile, unaware that he couldn't speak.

“Hey stranger, you enjoying yourself?”

He looked a little startled by you. He hadn’t expected anyone to strike up a conversation with him tonight. Holding up a polite finger, he dug into his pocket for a moment, pulling out a notepad. He scribbled a cheerful greeting and slid it over to you, hoping to communicate with you.

‘Hi! Thanks for asking. I’m doing fine.’

Unfortunately for him, his pencil broke. Cora let out a silent groan before reaching into his pockets to find another writing tool. Quiet giggles filled his ears before he looked up to see you pull a pencil from behind your ear and you scribble a cheerful greeting and before sliding it over to him.

‘No problem at all.’

Rosinante, caught off guard by your gesture, glanced at the note with surprise before returning your smile. You picked up a pen and offered it to him and he began to respond in kind, a playful doodle sketched on its surface. It depicted a tiny heart wearing a straw hat, accompanied by a speech bubble saying, "Quiet night?"

You looked up, surprised, then smiled warmly. He reached for the note and wrote underneath, "Not much for the noise. Enjoy watching them have fun."

You chuckled softly, replying with another doodle, this time of a heart holding a pen, writing, "I get that. Sometimes it's nice just to watch."

Rosinante grinned at your doodle, appreciating the whimsy in your communication. Before he could respond, a commotion broke out nearby.

Your coworker, a spirited woman named Maya, known for her contagious enthusiasm (and for getting so hammered with the clients she would dance on the bar), had spotted you at your station. With a mischievous wink, Maya grabbed your hand, urging you to join her on the dance floor.

At first, you resisted, shaking your head with a playful protest. But Maya wasn't easily deterred. She pulled you gently but persistently, whispering, "Come on, just this once! It's your song!"

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩~

The DJ, sensing the moment, began to cue up your favorite track, its familiar beats filling the air. Initially hesitant, you laughed and shook your head, trying to resist her playful insistence. But Maya wasn't one to take no for an answer. With a playful pout and a persuasive sway, she coaxed you onto the dance floor amidst cheers and encouragement from those nearby.

“Fine! Just for one song!” You finally relented, stepping onto the dance floor. Caught up in the moment, you began to move, your body responding naturally to the music. Your dance was a display of precise waist control and confident grace, drawing all eyes towards you.

The music enveloped you, with you effortlessly weaving through the crowd with dance moves that showcased your skillful waist control and playful charisma. The club erupted in cheers, friends and strangers alike clapping along to the rhythm, captivated by your impromptu performance.

Meanwhile, Rosinante watched in awe seated at the bar. He couldn't help but watch with rapt attention. His cheeks flushed as he observed your skillful movements and the joyous energy you exuded. He hadn’t expected this tonight, he hadn’t expected you tonight—so vibrant and alive, captivating everyone around you.

The club erupted in applause and cheers, celebrating your impromptu performance. Maya danced alongside you, matching your energy with her own infectious spirit, creating a scene of pure revelry and joy.

Rosinante, mesmerized by your dance, felt a warmth spread through him. He couldn't look away, feeling admiration and perhaps a hint of a crush stirring within him as he watched you shine in the spotlight of the dance floor. His heart pounding in his ears along with the music's beat.

Meanwhile, Luffy and Zoro noticed Rosinante's fixed gaze on you. With mischievous grins, they nudged Law, who was quietly sipping his drink nearby. Law, ever the strategist, decided to intervene in his own unique way.

"Cora-san seems to need a little nudge," Law remarked casually to Luffy and Zoro.

"I'll help him find it."

Before Rosinante could react, Law had already grasped his hand, feigning concern as he led Rosinante away from the bar. "Let's checkout the DJ booth," Law suggested, his tone masking his true intentions.

Confused but compliant, Rosinante allowed himself to be led towards where you were dancing. Suddenly, Law released his hand, leaving Rosinante standing awkwardly behind you. Flustered, Rosinante attempted to move out of the way, his taller frame proving a challenge in the crowded club.

“Looks like we got a challenger folks!” The DJ boomed over the music leading you to turn around and crank your neck up, up, up at the now standing silent customer.

“Oh it’s you!”

Cora, unsure of what was happening, allowed himself to be led, his mind racing with thoughts of how to gracefully excuse himself from the situation. Just as he was about to attempt to leave, you noticed him and gently grabbed the back of his shirt, preventing his escape.

The music pounded around you as you shouted over the noise, "Hey! Dance with me!"

Startled, Rosinante fumbled for his notepad to write a response, but you took it gently from his hand and pocketed it with a knowing smile. Sensing his hesitation, you hopped up onto a nearby table, waving him forward. Your eyes met his, and he could see the playful challenge in your expression.

“This should be okay, right?”

With a shy nod and a blush coloring his cheeks, Rosinante tentatively joined you at the table. It had been years since he last danced, but with your encouragement and the pulsing beat of the music, he quickly found his rhythm again. His movements were graceful yet tentative at first, but as the song progressed, confidence surged through him.

The dance became a playful exchange of steps and spins, laughter ringing out between you. Rosinante surprised himself with how easily he moved, his tall frame gracefully accommodating your playful gestures. As the music reached a crescendo, he swept you into his arms, one hand securely under your thighs and the other clasping yours. You held onto his waist with your legs and together, you spun in sync, the joy evident on both your faces.

The club erupted into thunderous cheers and applause, celebrating your spontaneous and captivating dance. Even Law, watching from the sidelines with a rare smile, couldn't help but be impressed by Rosinante's unexpected grace and the dorky cuteness between you both.

For Rosinante, this unexpected dance had not only brought him closer to you but also rediscovered a part of himself he thought he had long forgotten. And as the club around him faded, amidst the laughter and celebration, he found himself very grateful for the playful twist of fate that had brought him to your side.

As the song ended, you both took a bow, and the crowd clapped enthusiastically. However, in his attempt to stand tall and bow gracefully, Rosinante rolled his ankle and stumbled, causing a collective gasp from the onlookers.

“Ah shit.”

“There Cora-san goes again!”

“Have you tried drinking some milk?”

Quick to react, Law stepped forward, helping you guide Corazon to a nearby chair. He swiftly retrieved some ice from the bar and placed it gently in a bag on Rosinante's ankle, muttering about the clumsiness under his breath.

Rosinante winced slightly but managed a sheepish smile as he gestured for you to come closer. With a touch of embarrassment, he handed you a note. You gasped in surprise, feeling your pockets and realizing that Rosinante had discreetly taken back his notepad without your notice.

The note was a simple yet heartfelt message, thanking you for the best time he'd had in years with a smiley face that had hearts on both cheeks. You beamed warmly at him, feeling a rush of affection for this gentle-hearted man who had ventured out of his comfort zone for you.

"Can I give you a hug?" you asked softly, seeking permission.

Rosinante's shy eyes widened, and he nodded eagerly, opening his arms. Without hesitation, you dove into his embrace, feeling the warmth and sincerity in his gesture. He felt so fucking good to hug.Even the scent of his cologne, mixed with the subtle aroma of the club and the faint trace of sweat from dancing wasn’t bad at all.

He was so tall you actually could almost climb into his lap if you wanted. But that would be going pretty far for a first meeting. Instead, you tucked your head into his neck and closed your eyes. His heart was pounding against yours, the rhythm syncing with the lingering excitement of the dance.

‘He’s so fucking cute!~’

In that moment, amidst the music and the crowd, you realized that you weren't the only one feeling a "little" flustered.

Suddenly, the DJ's voice blasted over the speakers, giving you both a shoutout. "Let's hear it for the cutest couple out here tonight!"

You and Rosinante's cheeks flushed crimson as you snapped your necks to the DJ before shyly looking back at each other. As he sat back in the chair, trying to process the unexpected attention. In his flustered state, he tipped backwards, taking you with him in a gentle fall. Before you could react, his strong arms instinctively wrapped around you, protecting you from the fall.

You cringed at the echo of the chair slapping against the concrete floor as you ended up in the handsome stranger's lap and pressed up into his chest and neck.

"Sorry!" he whispered in your ear softly, his voice so warm and soothing that it sent a shiver down your spine. It was then that you realized—he could talk, and his voice was incredibly nice.

The crew members of both the Straw Hats and the Heart Pirates, along with your coworkers and even your manager, let out collective "awes" at the sight of you both, wrapped up in each other's arms. The moment, filled with laughter and warmth, seemed to freeze in time, a perfect tableau of the unexpected

As your coworkers and Law helped you both back up from the chair, the warmth of the moment lingered between you and Rosinante. Despite the stumble, you found yourselves chatting easily, laughter punctuating the conversation as you exchanged stories and shared moments from the night.

Eventually, the festivities began to wind down, and one by one, your friends and colleagues bid their farewells, heading home for the night. Rosinante lingered for a moment, his gaze meeting yours with a soft smile.

Before he left, he waved goodbye and then gestured towards his pocket. Confused, you looked down and discovered a note tucked neatly into your pocket. With a flutter of anticipation, you unfolded it and read the words written in his neat handwriting.

–

My tiny dancer,

Thank you for the most wonderful evening I've had in years. Your smile lit up the room, and dancing with you was a joy I'll cherish. I hope we can do it again soon! (But hopefully without the ‘accidents’.)

Take care,

Rosinante

Phone number: XXX- (555) -4567

–

Heart racing with excitement, you looked up to find Corazon already halfway out the door, his shy smile lighting up his face. With a rush of gratitude and newfound connection, you tucked the note safely away,

You nodded at him, conveying your appreciation and eagerness to see him again, and then playfully blew him a kiss.

Corazon's cheeks flushed crimson once more as he, in a moment of playful realization, pretended to catch the blown kiss, but his attention was momentarily diverted. With a soft thud, he accidentally banged his head against the metal door frame, a mix of embarrassment and amusement crossing his features. You cringed a little bit from the impact and gestured to his forehead. He gave you a thumbs up and your heart relaxed a bit.

Meanwhile, the other characters in the club had been watching the scene unfold with amused affection. Maya clapped her hands together with a gleeful laugh, thoroughly enjoying the romantic interlude she had inadvertently helped create. Law, who stood nearby, nudged Corazon along, “Come on, you’ll see her again soon,” a rare smile playing on his lips as he observed Corazon's departure.

Outside, the night air was cool and refreshing as Corazon walked away from the club, a smile lingering on his lips. He couldn't shake the butterflies of excitement and anticipation, grateful for the unexpected turn of events that had brought him to you.

Back inside, the club gradually quieted down as patrons began to disperse, each carrying with them memories of a lively celebration and the heartwarming sight of two unlikely dancers. Maya and your other coworkers exchanged knowing glances, silently agreeing to tease you about this later and hound you for updates once you’d texted the clumsy cutie.

You were a little more smiley as you closed up your section. Standing amidst the remnants of the evening's joy, you felt a sense of possibility and newfound happiness knowing that this night had brought something special into your life—a gentle-hearted man named Corazon, who had danced and rolled his way into your heart.

You reached for your phone to take a picture of the note. Just in case you lost it. Tucking Corazon's note safely into your pocket, you knew that this was just the beginning of a romance with a gentle-hearted giant named Corazon.

Bonus:

Later that night, as you settled in at home, you reached into your pocket and pulled out Corazon's note once more. With a smile, you carefully unfolded it and read the words again, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. You decided to send him a text, wanting to talk to him again.

----

Unknown: Hi Corazon! It's [Name] from the club. I made it home safely. Thank you for the lovely note. 😊

----

Meanwhile, across town, Corazon lay in a hospital bed with his head bandaged and his ankle elevated, the result of an unexpected mishap on his way home. While walking back to his car with his friends, Cora was lost in thoughts of you and the evening's enchantment. So he had stumbled into an uncovered manhole, resulting in a tumble that miraculously left him only bruised and slightly battered.

----

Rosinante: Hi [Name]! I'm glad you made it home safely. Sorry for the delay—I had a little accident on my way back. Nothing serious, just a reminder to pay more attention. 😅 How are you?

----

You settle back into your cozy spot on the couch, phone in hand, waiting for his response. The moments stretch out as you imagine the possible scenarios, your mind filled with concern for the endearing, clumsy man who had captured your heart so unexpectedly.

Your phone dings again, and you quickly read his reply.

––––

Oh no! What happened? Are you okay? :You

Rosinante: I was daydreaming about you and didn't notice an uncovered manhole. I fell in and sprained my ankle and bumped my head. I'm in the hospital now, but it's nothing serious. Just a bit embarrassed. 😳

–––––

“Oh Dearest Pie, he falls down a freaking manhole and still asks me how I’m doing.”

Your heart melts at his candid confession, a mixture of concern and affection welling up within you. You can't help but laugh softly, picturing the tall, awkward sweetheart stumbling into a manhole because he was thinking of you.

–––––

Tiny Dancer: Oh no, Rosinante! I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope you're not in too much pain. If it helps, I'm flattered that I was on your mind. 😊

–––––

A shy smile tugs at his lips as he lies in his hospital bed. His reply comes quickly, the playful tone lifting your spirits.

–––––

Rosinante: It does help, actually! Your smile is a pretty nice distraction. 😊

–––––

You feel a blush creep up your cheeks as you continue the conversation, sharing stories and laughter, bridging the distance between you with every message. The night grows late, but neither of you seems to notice, too engrossed in the blossoming feelings between you.

––––

I wish I could be there to keep you company. :You

Rosinante: Just knowing you're thinking of me is enough. But maybe we can meet up again soon please? I promise to avoid any manholes this time! 😅

––––

“Fuck he’s too cute.”

––––

I'd like that very much. Rest up, okay? :You

And thank you for making tonight so special. :You

Rosinante: Thank you, too. Goodnight, Tiny Dancer.

Goodnight, Gentle Giant. :You

––––

Despite the mishap, Rosinante couldn't help but smile as he typed out the message. The memory of your smile and the warmth of your presence lingered with him, easing the discomfort of his minor injuries. He eagerly began to look up other dance clubs he could take you to, his heart thankful for the continuation of this unexpected and delightful chance of meeting you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Link to part 1.

Let this serve as the official kick off to the summer!

Taglist: @orange-milky @xxsliverwolfxx @mochiclouds

I own none of the images or art!!

I wanna add more characters later, Lemme know what characters you want! DM's are always open.

Posted on the ao3 account soon.

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a fic for almost everyone here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ And thank you guys again for 100 followers!!

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inmyheaddd · 3 months ago

Text

missed calls - grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: these girl dad grayson fics have be wishing for a little freya more than grayson himself 😞 need a baby daughter so bad wc: 927 tag list: @wish-i-were-heather @x-liv25-jamieswife @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus

@anintellectualintellectual @heartwithsimplenotes @littlemissmentallyunstable (love u guys!! if u want to be added lmk 🩷) masterlist

it was the morning of your 5 year old daughter freya’s ballet play, the one she had been rehearsing and practicing for months. sometimes, you and grayson would go wake her up for school, and you’d find her already awake, practicing her pirouettes in her little mirror.

you dropped off your daughter at around 8 in the morning, and the show as at 1. grayson had his schedule cleared for months, he had literally scheduled everything around it, he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

the world may bend to the will of grayson hawthorne, but he bent to the will of his daughter.

it was nearing 12:15 when grayson’s personal phone went off. he was fetching his car keys so you decided to see what it was. your face fell when you saw it was a 911 text from his brother, jameson.

you turned around, not even registering that grayson had now come up behind you. “whats wrong?” he said upon seeing the look on your face.

“nothing, it’s just,” you paused before sighing, “jameson just sent a 911.”

graysons eyebrows furrowed, and he reached for his phone and saw the message. he muttered a swear under his breath before meeting your eyes again silently.

grayson’s bond with his brothers was uncomparable to anything else, even if they bickered a lot, they would still practically die for one another.

“what are you going to do?” you asked, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. you had to drop everything for a 911, that was the rule.

the last time grayson ignored one, a very unfortunate video of him in very tight leather pants haunted him for months. you had jameson to thank for that.

you could see grayson thinking through all the possible outcomes, a tiny crinkle in between his brows.

“i’m sure they’ll be fine without me for one day.” he stated, and you could tell he was sure in his decision.

that didn’t stop you from asking anyways.

“grayson, are you sure? i mean, i’ll be there to watch freya anyway.” your fingers were drumming against your leg, grayson noticed and held your hand in his. “plus, i think she’ll be fine. she doesn’t like you that much.”

you joked in an attempt to resolve the visible tension in his face, and it worked — his lips stretching into a smile that made your heart flutter.

he then pulled you into his side and planted a kiss on the top of your head, appreciating your attempts to make him feel better.

“even if she doesn’t like me that much, i care for her more than anything. i’m going, no matter what.”

you smiled at grayson and his thoughtfulness. the love he had for your daughter was extraordinary, he was the best parent there could possibly be.

any worries about what the future - more so his brothers - held in the next week that lingered disappeared the second he locked eyes with freya. she was looking all over the audience for you two, the way her face visibly lit up and her little wave was worth anything his brothers would put him through.

grayson, ever the dad, pulled out his professional camera and was snapping photos and videos throughout the whole show.

people were giving him looks, even moms that you knew were eyeing you.

“grayson,” you whispered as you nudged him.

“yes, my love?” his gaze kept flickering between the stage, his camera, and you.

“people keep staring.” you muttered, as if it was something new to you two.

he quirked an eyebrow up as he watched freya on stage, “i’m afraid i don’t care.” he paused, smiling as freya did the one routine she had shown him a million times and locked eyes with you two right after she did.

“if they had this angel for a daughter, then they’d understand.” he continued.

the way you could visibly see the excitement and happiness bouncing off of her little face made you endlessly proud.

you chuckled, “how’d we ever get so lucky with her?” you muttered practically in awe, you wholeheartedly believed you had the best kid in the world.

grayson’s gaze was now entirely focused on you, “she’s a little you, you know that? you’re the best mother to her, it amazes me everyday; how perfect you are with her.”

“grayson,” you said with a slightly flustered chuckle as you squeezed his hand, “don’t cut yourself out. that determination, that focus?” you say as you nod towards freya, “did not come from me.”

“that’s not from me, either. that’s all her, my love.”

freya ran to you the second she was done, then grayson lifted her up and spun her around. their shared laughter was a sound you could listen to forever, and one you couldn’t help but join in on.

the next day, grayson left for the 911.

he was late though, and the rules were the rules. even though his brothers wouldn’t outwardly say it, they were beyond happy that grayson had found his people, the ones he loved with his whole entire being.

nevertheless, 2 days later grayson was back home with pink and green streaks in his blonde hair, and glitter in all the places glitter shouldn’t be. honestly, you weren’t too sure you even wanted to know what happened.

along with that, you were sent a video of grayson singing britney spears karaoke in a very questionable outfit by xander.

grayson would do it all again though, to be able to see that proud smile on his little girl’s face, and to be able to share that moment with you.

#grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne headcanons #the inheritance games #the grandest game #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #tgg #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #tig #❦ jude writes

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pastshadows · 6 months ago

Text

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 15: Home

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 7K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions. Panic attacks. Anxiety.

The day is cloudy, obscuring most of the sky, with brief breaks where the clouds crack to let through cerulean rivers and dapples of sunlight. The flames in the fireplace flicker and dance in the breeze coming in off the Great Harbour.

You flip through another book on vampire covens in Waterdeep. So far, Gale has procured an impressive amount of information, but most of the texts are outdated. You’ve searched crypts and ancient mausoleums and scouted every location mentioned with Shadowheart, but they’ve all been long abandoned dead ends.

“I brought you lunch.” Shadowheart smiles, nudging the door closed with her hip. “Before you turn your nose up, I made it.”

“Thanks. Already sick of Gale’s cooking?”

Shadowheart’s nose wrinkles, and she smirks slyly but refrains from answering. The gleam in her eye tells you all you need to know. She nods toward the book in your lap. “Anything?”

“No,” you say with a shake of your head. "According to these, most vampire covens in Waterdeep don’t last. They’re either eradicated by something or vanish."

“You’re thinking this is the work of the Vampire Lord we’re looking for?”

You nod. “Astarion said vampires are territorial. If other covens have tried to make a home in Waterdeep for decades, even centuries, and none have survived, I think whoever we’re looking for predates all of it.”

“That’s disconcerting.” Shadowheart’s brows furrow, but she sheds her trepidation easily. “We’ll figure it out. We always do. Gale and I sent letters to the others to see if anyone could come and help.”

“If they are able to come, Gale’s going to have a lot of mouths to feed.”

“And Astarion is going to have to answer for his foolish disappearance.” Shadowheart scoffs with a frown. “I still have half a mind to—“

“Shadowheart." You cut Shadowheart off as nicely as you can while still sounding assertive. "I know you mean well, and I love you for being so protective, but what happened between Astarion and me is our business. He had his reasons, and maybe I didn’t understand them at the time, but I do now. Furthermore, I understand him better.”

“You cannot be serious.” Shadowheart retorts sourly. “I swear that man could thrust a dagger through your heart, and you would still find a way to exonerate him with your dying breath.”

She’s not wrong.

“Please give him the benefit of the doubt.” You swallow the irritation and try pacifying it with the knowledge that her prickliness is her way of showing you she cares. “You must keep in mind that he’s never experienced a relationship before, and he’s still learning who he is as a free man. Some of the blame falls on me too. It might have been prudent to allow him to decide if he wanted to live alone for a while before we moved in together. I might have pushed him too fast.”

“He could have at least told you he was leaving.” She snorts. “Coward.”

“That’s enough,” you growl in a warning that you’ve reached your limit of her tartness. You take a deep breath. “None of us can fathom what he’s been through and the scars he carries. He deserves our understanding, not our expectations of what we think he should have done.”

“Fine, ugh, fine,” she replies coolly. Her expression softens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I’m sorry I ruined your vacation. I know you came to see the House of the Moon, not possibly die helping me fight another vampire.”

“Do you want to know a secret?” She giggles gleefully with a broad smile. “Retirement has gotten rather boring. I may not have chosen another Vampire Lord as our next foe, but at least we have experience with this particular enemy.”

“Hells below.” You laugh. “I thought I was the only one who found all this lounging around in safety utterly dull!”

“I hear you and Astarion haven’t been doing much lounging around since he returned.” Shadowheart waggles her brows with a sly, bright grin.

If you were a more bashful person, your cheeks would be heating, but Shadowheart became your best friend during your travels, and you don’t need to be shy with her.

“Oh,” you smirk smugly, “about that. You may want to reconsider moving your room to the upper floors of the tower with Gale, or I suspect you’ll never get any rest.”

“You are downright uncivilized, Kamena!” Shadowheart dissolves into a fit of laughter. “I think I will survive. It’s not like you two were exactly quiet in camp, and I’d rather keep a close eye on Hecat.”

“She’s still here?” Your brows furrow. “I was rather hoping she would take her leave after the whole vampire thing.”

“Me too. Instead, she seems rather keen to help. I haven’t decided yet if she’s an idiot or up to something.”

You rub your tired eyes. Your nightmares have returned with ferocity, and Astarion has had to wake you up several times every night lately. “We will watch her closely.”

“You mean you’re going to watch her closely around Astarion?” Shadowheart giggles, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “I saw that at breakfast the other day. She could not stop gawking at him!”

“I know!” You grunt with an exasperated huff. “I could veritably see her undressing him with her eyes. The woman is lucky I didn’t pluck them out with my fork!”

Shadowheart takes your hand in hers. “Astarion’s heart is yours. It has been since he met you. You have no reason to be worried.”

“I am not worried about him. I trust him.” You groan and try to push away the little green monster that seems to infect your very essence. You’ve always been a jealous person, although you prefer to call it territorial. Though this is a little much, even for you, “I’m worried about her.”

“If she lays a hand on him, he will likely cut it off before she can blink.” Shadowheart cajoles, obviously trying to reassure you.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “He won’t have time to before I make her spontaneously combust.”

Shadowheart leans in close, whispering, “You don’t need to worry, Kamena. You’re much prettier than she is.”

You both laugh until your eyes are watery and your cheeks are sore. Shadowheart sits with you, reading a different text and making notes. The words on the page start to blur before your tired eyes.

“Go rest.” Shadowheart nudges you awake. You didn’t even realize you had slipped into your trance until she roused you. “The books aren’t going anywhere.”

“Yes.” You nod with a yawn. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Descending the spiral staircase to the lower floor of the manor, Astarion’s voice draws you to the grand sitting room, where he’s chatting with Hecat. For some reason, you don't enter the room and decide to eavesdrop on the conversation. Astarion will undeniably know you’re there, but Hecat wouldn’t have heard you.

What does she say to him when I am not around?

She asks him questions regarding his vampirism. It makes you uncomfortable, though you cannot put your finger on why. Astarion seems unruffled by her interrogation. In truth, they are rather innocent . She asks simple things like what blood tastes like, if he can eat food, and what it tastes like to him, among other pointless inquiries. Her line of questioning is much like what you imagine a child’s would be.

“Can I see your fangs?” Hecat asks with a chortle.

You smother the urge to stomp into the room and tell her that he’s not a spectacle for her viewing pleasure. You did ask the same thing once, but that was at least after you agreed to be his meal. Gods. If she asks him to bite her, you will surely lose your shit.

Taking a deep breath, you enter the room as nonchalantly as you can, feigning surprise to even see her.

“Afternoon, dragon girl!” She chimes happily. “Your friend and I are getting to know each other a little better. I’ve never seen a vampire that’s not a bloodthirsty maniac.”

Hecat makes a point to emphasize the word friend with all the subtly of a neon sign flashing in a dark hallway, and it makes you fume like a kettle left unattended over an open flame. You can feel the pressure building up to a deafening whistle in your ears, and you’re ready to blow your lid off in frustration.

“Then you don’t really know my friend very well.” You retort with a curt smile, and you’re proud that you manage to keep the bitterness out of your intonation. “He’s just very selective about his meals.”

Astarion cocks his head at you, smirking with a low chuckle. “She is correct. All vampires are bloodthirsty maniacs. I just happen to be a picky, bloodthirsty maniac."

Hecat regards you thoughtfully, and her eyes land on the telltale puncture wounds on your neck that are still in the process of healing. She laughs, looking at Astarion. “By picky, I assume you mean you prefer blood that’s spiced with a hint of draconic fire?”

Your hand shoots up to your neck, the pads of your fingers running over the scabbed skin.

Astarion seems rather bemused by the entire conversation. “I do indeed enjoy spicy food. The hotter, the better.”

“I’m from the Hells.” Hecat remarks confidently with a wolfish grin. “You can’t get much hotter than me.”

The fire in the hearth discharges with a sonorous crack. Embers and sparks eject from the fireplace, making both Hecat and Astarion jump. You have never been more tempted to show her that, though she may hail from the Hells themselves, nothing is hotter than the Hellfire of an angry dragon. You’re not sure if she’s trying to irk you or is just terribly stupid.

Probably a combination of both.

“Excuse us.” Astarion’s drawls as if nothing is amiss, taking your hand, but you don't take your glowering eyes off the Tiefling until she yields, and her eyes snap away in deference.

Astarion virtually drags you away from the interaction before you can decide if murdering this woman might be worth any further trouble it would bring to your doorstep.

You follow him reluctantly back to your room. Before he can lecture you or comment, you blurt out hastily. “Pack some clothes and your things. We’re going to get away from here for a couple of days.”

“We’re leaving?” Astarion quirks a brow at you. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, given the predicament we find ourselves in?”

“It’s only a couple of days.” You sigh, sitting on the bed, letting your head drop into your hands. “I’m tired, and I need a break. I spoke to Gale about it already. He’s positive they will manage without their fearless leader. If you would rather stay, you don’t have to come.”

“Stay here? With them? Alone? Hardly.” He scoffs, clicking his tongue. “A worse fate than even the kennels. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Gods. I hate surprises.” Astarion groans with a cheeky grin. “It’s rarely anything good. Surprise! You’re a vampire. Suprise! You’ve been tadpoled and might burst like a boil into a grotesque squid at any moment. Surprise! That sweet, demented old crone is indeed a hag.”

“I think you’ll like this one, petal.” You tut, smirking back. “If you don’t, feel free to kill me.”

“Hmm.” Astarion taps his lips with his finger. “That’s very tempting. I’m almost convinced. Alright, deal. Lead on.”

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” Astarion groans, bringing the dapple-grey gelding beside your mare.

“Stop being testy.” You giggle at the frown he shoots you. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“I am centuries old,” he scoffs, jutting his chin into the air cavalierly. “I did not once say I couldn’t ride. I said I do not like the beasts. Horrid creatures.”

“I do forget how positively ancient you are. Did horses even exist all those long years ago, or Gods forbid, did you have to walk everywhere?”

“Ha-ha!” Astarion’s says sarcastically, curling his lips into a scowl. “You are so very funny, my dear. Where in the Hells are you taking me?”

“Follow and find out!”

Easing your mare into a gallop, the horses easily soar over the terrain on the outskirts of Baldur's Gate. The night is clear, and the stars shine brightly, their raw celestial energy dotting the sky like grains of sugar.

Despite Astarion’s plain distaste for horses, you can’t help but admire the way he looks in the saddle: confident, refined, and mouth-watering. The wind’s fingers flow through Astarion’s typically perfectly coiffed hair, mussing it up handsomely, and the silver moonlight plays between the rolling waves, casting an ethereal luminance across his porcelain skin.

Spotting the pathway, surrounded by a dense forest, you rein the horses into a walk through the narrow pass. The canopy of the towering trees filters out the beams of the moon’s waxen rays, so you cast Light. It makes eerie shadows dance around the thick trunks like restless spirits, their ghostly tendrils writhing around in the dark like tentacles, and you’re surprised to find yourself increasingly unnerved by the sight.

Your heart flutters around your chest like a scared bird in a cage as your eyes dart and track the serendipitous, playing shades. Your mind plays out memories you would rather forget, and you find your palms tingling as you seize the Weave reflexively.

Mind flayers and their slithering tentacles. Tadpoles squirming behind your eye.

The hungry shadows of Shar’s curse twisting their vines into you and sapping your life.

Good Gods. That abomination, Kar'niss.

Intellect devourers. The Netherbrain. The Emperor.

The feel of countless fangs of feral spawn, wild with hunger, piercing your skin in the Underdark.

Aldous. The sound of fabric ripping when he wrenched at your robe.

Prison. The crack and pop of breaking ribs.

“Hey.” You jump when Astarion’s hand touches your forearm. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you quickly brush away the wetness strung upon your lashes.

“Pass me the reins of your horse.” Astarion instructs.

You do so mindlessly, staring into the penumbra obscuring the land between sagging boughs, as you continue to spiral through a tornado of every terrible thing that’s happened to you.

Astarion halts both of your horses, bringing his as close to yours as he can in the limited space. He ties the reins to his saddle and scoots himself back. “Come on, love.” Astarion leans over and folds an arm around your waist. “Slide over here.”

Wrapping your arm around his neck, you carefully ease over to Astarion’s steed with your back pressed tightly to his chest. He keeps an arm fixed around your trembling body.

“I am here, sweetheart.” Astarion murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours. “You can talk or not, but I am here.”

Astarion continues along the trail, humming a soothing tune that you don’t recognize. Every time the horse's hoofs snap a twig or thud off a rock, you cannot help but flinch. It’s not like you to be spooked so easily. You’re not fearless, but Gods, you’re far from this coward currently swallowing the urge to weep in Astarion’s arms at every unexpected sound.

You squeeze your eyes closed so the darkness stops staring back at you. Screaming inside your head, you try to quell the onslaught of thoughts, but it’s hard to forget your past when it’s written into the scars on your psyche. Some wounds never seem to heal and bleed again at the slightest provocation.

You want it to stop.

You want to drink until you can’t remember your name.

You want to beg Astarion to touch you, drain you, or both until you're numb.

You do not care how, as long as it fucking stops.

“Kamena…” Astarion trails off, and your eyes spring open, broken from your descent into madness. His eyes widen with recognition, and he gasps, “Hells. Are we where I think we are?”

“We are home."

Even with the dust covers removed from the furniture that remains and the fire spitting and popping in the brick fireplace, your cottage looks sparse and empty, devoid of all the belongings that made it look like home. The fine threads of dusty cobwebs hang in all of the corners. It makes you smile, warming your heart, when it’s the first thing Astarion attends to, listening attentively, his expression frozen in concentration.

“Well?”

“Oh, darling,” he feigns solemnity, looking gravely serious. “There are spiders everywhere. Millions of them, hiding in every nook and cranny, just waiting for you to fall into your trance so they can crawl all over you.”

Astarion takes quick, silent steps, grabbing you by the waist and crawling his fingers gently up your arm, laughing boyishly at the way you cringe, shudder, and try to twist away.

“Astarion!” You squeak, swatting him in the chest playfully while he giggles at you. “This is no joking matter! You know I will burn this place to the ground around me.”

“Perhaps,” he smirks, jutting his hip out confidently, “but you won’t burn it down around me, especially not with the sun out.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you smirk, letting liquid-like flames swirl around the two of you, and letting them ebb out. “I just might if you don’t tell me the truth!”

“Go ahead,” he challenges, pretending to yawn and lying down on the bed with his hands behind his head. He smirks boldly. “You’ve dropped a building on me before. How much worse can it be?”

“Are you going to hold that against me for the rest of our lives?” You groan, climbing onto the bed. Astarion pats his lap with an enticing grin, and you straddle him. “You were very enthusiastic in your approval to yank the weapon out of the device, you know.”

“I wanted to see what would happen. What can I say?” Astarion laughs, sitting upright, ghosting his lips over yours. “You should have known better than to listen to me of all people.”

“You’re the thief! I figured you already had it all planned out, Rogue.”

“Interesting that you thought I was a details person when I much preferred to sow blood and chaos wherever we went.” Astarion taps your nose with each word he tuts at you. “Not very astute of you, Sorceress.”

“Gods above,” you snort, galled, and stick your nose in the air. “We just got home, and I already want to break up with you.”

“And here I was thinking we were just very special friends.” Astarion muses flippantly, tilting his head and looking askance. “What do you think Tiefling blood tastes like? Brimstone? Smoke? Char?”

You spring up, staring at him with an icy scowl, your lips pressed together firmly. Astarion’s brows raise and curve, wrinkling his forehead in puzzlement as he scrutinizes you. It makes you want to hide, and you fold your arms around yourself to strangle the diffidence making bile rise into your throat.

“Maybe you should ask her for a nibble if you’re so goddamn curious, friend.”

Astarion’s mouth drops open at the choler braided into your voice. “What in the bloody Hells is going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you swallow thickly.

“The Hells you don’t.” Astarion snaps. “If it’s alright with you, I would like to skip this part of the argument where you try to convince me nothing is wrong. I am not a fool.”

The bilious bubble bursts, and you shout, “Then stop acting like one! You allowed Hecat to pester you all about your vampirism like it was an ordinary thing for someone to do! You hid it from me when we met, but you seemed more than happy to humour her, even while she gawked at you like she was lost at sea and you were driftwood to cling to!

“Good fucking Gods. Grow up!” Astarion booms with bared fangs, making his expression severe, bordering on frightening . It’s not often you’ve seen him so angry, especially with you. “You have always had a jealous streak. I find it quite endearing most of the time, but this magnitude is new even for you, and it’s decidedly not cute.”

He’s right, and you know it, but that fact does nothing to assuage the indignation. Your eyes jump around the cottage. There are so many happy memories that now have a vinegary tartness after being pickled by heartbreak.

The bed you laid on for days with that damn letter weaved between your fingers.

The window you sat in front of at night, drunk and dazed, hoping beyond hope that he would appear between the trees.

His favourite lounge, where you spent days curled up crying until your eyes were sore.

And so many more.

You thought coming back here was a good idea. It was the last place you remembered feeling truly happy and whole. Now all you see are the reminders of a life that could have been if only you had been wise enough to catch the signs of him withdrawing.

I wish we could go back to a time before it was too late.

Now it's you who needs to withdraw, because this is all you're good at now. Isn’t it? Running away from your problems and fears.

You are afraid to fall because if your fire is extinguished, you’re unsure if it will ever burn again. Your soul is too indurated with heartbreak. You will have nothing left but to stand in the ashes of who you used to be.

“Get away from the door,” you say despondently.

Astarion steps toward you to stop you, but you open the door and stand in the streaming sunlight so he can’t touch you.

“Where are you going?” Astarion sighs, easing his tense posture and shying away from the sun.

It makes your heart clench in your chest to see him so afraid of something he used to love, and now you’re using it as a weapon to shield yourself from him.

What is wrong with me?

“To go grow up.” You spit harshly and disappear out the door, slamming it behind you.

Astarion listens as the sound of pounding hoofs races off until he can’t hear it any longer. He combs his fingers through his hair, scraping his fingernails over his scalp, while looking around the cottage that he used to call home.

Ever since he left, he’s dreamed of returning, where his memories are full of her smiling face, joyful, feathery laughter, peace, and safety, but now that he’s here, it feels like a bleak reminder of the life they could have had.

It’s empty, quiet, and dark without her. Kamena has always been the fire that banishes the shadows. Her smile warmed these cold walls, and her laugh threaded the air with sweet life.

Fuck.

He sits on the floor with his back pressed up against the bed and takes a deep breath. His eyes wander and focus on a crack in the ceiling, and he lets his mind drift back to the conversation. Before he left, usually, their quarrels ended with a swift recovery and reconciliation. They hardly ever turned into escalated disagreements.

And she never ran.

Astarion's head drops into his hands, and he winces at the recollection of his own gruff voice telling her to grow up. He admonished her when he should have been trying to figure out why her reaction to the Tiefling’s brainless queries was so uncharacteristically intense.

His mind races as he delves into the depths of his memories, seeking clues to explain Kamena’s fragile security.

Well, at least she was generous with her blood tonight, Astarion thinks, as his fingers part and find her folds slick with arousal. If nothing else, he got a meal out of it.

Astarion’s eyes stay open, even while their tongues dance, staring blankly at the pattern of the tree bark in the distance. He does not need to focus much as his finessed fingers fall into a perfectly choreographed rhythm engineered by how her thighs shake, her breath hitches in her throat, and the sighs that slip from her lips.

He will have her coming undone for him in no time, and then he will take her again, perhaps from behind.

It’s always easier when they don’t look at him.

Gods. The only being that has treated him like a person in the last two centuries, and he’s still playing the rake, but this is all he knows - all he’s good for. He needs her help and protection, so he might as well make himself useful.

His mind is clapped back into reality rapidly when he realizes her moaning has stopped, her body is still, and their lips are no longer locked in a kiss.

Shit.

He glances down, and she’s staring at him thoughtfully. “Is everything okay, Astarion?”

He reels to think of some beguiling response. He weaves together words like spider silk in the deep, purring timbre he knows will current her away in the river of his verse. “Apologies. I was just getting lost in the bewitching melody of your moans.”

It’s half-assed, admittedly, but he thinks that should do it.

It does not, in fact, do it, and he does not like that she doesn’t look entirely convinced. She stares at him as if she’s undressing his mind, unbuttoning his thoughts with those eyes that could swallow whole universes.

It’s... unnerving.

He doubles down on his ministrations to distract her. Moving forward to the next act in this play, and eases two fingers into her, pressing upward to find that pad of sensitive flesh that should send her spiralling into pleasure.

This one is more observant than his usual fanfare and far more clever. He will have to be mindful.

Astarion barely registers when she tumbles into her orgasm, spasming around his fingers and crying out his name. He should say something. They usually like it when he says something.

He leans down, kissing up the column of her neck, skin flushed under his lips. He whispers, letting his lips brush up against the shell of her ear. “Gods. You’re beautiful, darling.”

Unoriginal perhaps, rehearsed to oblivion, but par for the course of this performance.

At least she is truly a vision with her doe-eyes, heavily lidded, sparkling as if flecked with moonstones. Her long hair waving upon the ground, and the pale light glints off her prismatic scales cherubically.

He lets himself admire the arc of her waist and the curve of her hips. It helps when they are attractive. He’s seen many seductive bodies, but hers is different somehow. It’s enchanting... inviting even.

He settles between her thighs, hands splayed on the loamy ground, to brace himself, and he eases his cock into her aching core. Gods. She’s tight, and it makes him sigh out a hissing breath.

He pumps into her at an easy pace until her body adjusts, and then autopilot takes over as he descends into the recesses of his mind, floating out of his body and away from what he’s partaking in.

It’s not that it doesn’t feel good. In fact, he’s rather confounded to find that, despite his mind trying to separate itself from his body, he keeps being dragged back, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of pleasure.

She feels... good. Hells below, really, truly, good.

This is... different. Her body flush against his, her tightness so wet, warm, and disconcertingly sublime.

“Astarion,” she breathes as her hand gently comes to his cheek, bringing him back into his body, and his eyes snap open to meet hers. “Show me what you want and what you like, not what you think I want.”

His hips stutter for a moment, processing the request. When’s the last time someone cared about what he wanted or liked? Hells. What does he like? He’s usually so focused on providing other people with their fantasies that he hasn’t bothered to consider what he likes in centuries.

"I... I don’t know,” he murmurs shakily. A revelation cracks into him — something he’s never done, never been allowed to do, never had the agency to do. Another first . “I want to taste your blood as you come for me.”

She smiles, nodding her assent, and Astarion’s hips snap erratically, changing the depth and pace of his thrusts until he finds one that has him squeezing his eyes shut, enraptured in his own bliss.

She whimpers his name as she nears her climax, lolling her head to the side to give him access. His name in her breathy whimpers sends shivers down his spine.

He bites, pulling her blood into his mouth and letting it sit on his tongue. He can taste the spice and fire of her desire, a beautiful harmony that makes him groan. His hand grabs her hip so he can plunge into her deeper and fuck her harder into their combined euphoria.

She crests, fingers curling into his hair as she clenches around him. Her blood floods with a new flavour in her nirvana. It tastes like dawn, hope, and... home?

His orgasm takes him by surprise when it charges through him. His cock twitches as he spills himself into her with a grunt against her throat.

When he lays down beside her, she makes no move to touch him or get closer, and he’s beside himself to find he’s disappointed with the lack of intimacy. When he looks over, she’s once again observing him, gentle yet contemplative.

“What is it, my sweet? Already looking for round two?”

“You weren’t all there tonight.” She whispers, looking up at the stars.

Fuck.

He’s a master performer, able to improvise and fabricate on a dime, but he cannot think of a single cunning explanation to reply with.

Why, oh why, couldn’t it have been the gullible Tiefling or braggart Wizard leading this group of godsdamned misfits?

He catches the hoofbeats long before they approach the cottage. When Kamena opens the door, sunlight no longer spills through the gap. She doesn’t speak as she curls herself around him, her head on his chest, taking a deep breath. He wraps her in a tight embrace, kissing her hair and pressing his cheek against her forehead.

Astarion closes his eyes and revels in her warmth before he speaks. “I spoke out of turn today.”

“Ugh. Stop being so nice to me.”

Kamena shucks off her robe, disappearing into the bedroom, and returns attired in one of his shirts. The red tunic is too large for her, with the hem rippling about her thighs, putting her long, shapely legs on display for him.

She smirks at him as he feigns irritation, crossing his arms and jutting his chin up. “Did you not bring your own bloody clothing?”

She descends into a chair by the fire, curling her legs up under her, and whispers. “It makes me feel close to you. When you left, it was one of the few things I had left.”

Her answer takes him aback. He had expected a clever retort, not such raw vulnerability.

“You still doubt my commitment to you,” he states, rummaging his fingers through his hair. “I can hardly blame you. Our relationship didn’t exactly start or end candidly. If I would have opened up instead of running out on you-”

“Should have, could have, would have,” she shrugs. “You had your reasons, and I'm not much better, it seems. Gods. I’m a mess.”

“Perhaps, but you’re my mess.” He purrs, crouching and hooking her chin with his finger to guide her gaze to his. “I want you, Kamena. I always wanted you, even when I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“Hecat.” The shakiness in her voice makes every one of his bones ache as her eyes begin to well up. “I should not have overreacted. I just… You don’t understand how hard it is to watch everyone covet you like you’re a prize to be won. I hate it. It makes my blood run hot, and sometimes I just don’t recognize it for what it is - insecurity.”

“The Tiefling is just another fool in a long line of idiots who sees how positively beautiful I am, but their interest goes no deeper than flesh. You are the only one who ever saw me and took the time to get to know me, even when I was being an insufferable prick.”

Kamena hiccups out a laugh. “I just really want to burn her eyes out of her skull.”

“HA!” He giggles, kissing her forehead. “That’s my girl. Not to worry. Dear Shadowheart is right. If she touches me, I will cut her hand off swiftly.”

“You heard that, did you?”

“Of course.” He smirks, leading her to the bed and giving her a playful shove. “I hear everything that goes on in that tower.”

“Am I more attractive than the Tiefling?” She pouts adorably with a sassy undertone.

“Digging for shallow praise, are we?” Astarion chuckles. “Alright. I’ll bite. Let me see. If an angel fell for every time I thought of you, the heavens would be empty.”

She giggles – sparkly and beautiful and bright. Home suddenly doesn’t feel so desolate.

“You can do better than that,” she teases.

“Hmm... What about this one? Even in the astral plane, where gravity is fickle, I would still fall for you.”

“Oh, Gods above.” She laughs until her eyes shine. Astarion leans down and kisses the single teardrop creeping out of the corner of her eye. “One more.”

“Another?” He looks deeply into her eyes, which gleam brightly as if laced with flame, shining with every beautiful shade of her being. He grins at the memory, and this time, when he says it, it does not sadden him. “I love you, Solicallor.”

“I love you, too, Aerasumé,” she says, running her fingers through his hair and tousling it playfully. “You’re cute.”

“Bad girl,” he purrs. “Retribution is required.”

She warns, “Don’t do it!”

“Don’t do what, love? This?”

Astarion tickles her until she is fighting for breath between her laughter, squirming under him as he pins her with his body, and pleading for forgiveness.

“That was rude!” She sucks in heavy breaths. “You better watch your back, Astarion. I’m going to strike when you least expect it.”

“I await the day you’re spritely enough to catch me.”

Astarion moulds his lips to hers, basking in the warmth that radiates across his cool skin. He nips her lower lip impatiently when she doesn’t part her lips for him. If miracles have a taste, he’s positive they would taste like her. He places chaste kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

She looks at him lustily, batting her long lashes. “What are you doing?”

“Well,” he rucks up her shirt, placing a kiss on her stomach. He grins. “We find ourselves alone, truly and completely alone, in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, darling, do I have to spell it out for you? I want to make you scream while I make love to you in our home, in our bed.”

She stares at him with her wide doe-eyes shining brightly as if scattered with dewdrops. “Be mine, Astarion.” She whispers.

“I have never not been yours, Kamena.” Astarion murmurs between kisses, inhaling the scent of her.

She pushes his shirt over his shoulders, and he throws it off hastily. Astarion cups her breast, thumb rubbing over the hard peak of her nipple. She moans, and every breathy little noise and pound of her hectic heartbeat is a symphony to his ears. He rolls her sensitive peaks between his thumb and forefinger. She sucks in a sharp, wavering breath, and his cock twitches, rock hard and eager against his trousers.

Her hands run reverently up his sides to his chest, letting the pads of her fingers ghost over his nipples, making him shudder with a groan. Every place her lips meet his skin radiates vitality, as if she’s breathing life into him with every kiss. The fabric of his breeches strained against him is far too restricting, and he kicks them off, freeing his erection.

Astarion slips his hand between her legs, sliding his fingers into her wetness, swirling them around the border of her achy pearl, and she arches into him. Her tepid breath tickles his skin as she muffles her cries against his shoulder.

“Gods,” he pants, and is surprised to find himself breathing so heavily. “Don’t hold back. It’s just us. Scream for me, my love.”

Her eyelashes flutter as she cries out, and he cannot help it; he fucking moans with her. Every sound emanating from her makes his yearning flood him in an intense upsurge, making his cock twitch and beg for attention. He’s not sure he’s ever been this aroused, this openly intimate, with no hint of the shadows that have constrained him before.

He desires her like a magnet clings to its polar opposite, impossible to sever and hopelessly drawn to the very core of its existence.

Astarion eases two fingers into her, pumping them slowly deeper and deeper while he sucks her tender rosebuds, wresting whimpers and moans from her full lips. Once her body has adjusted, he hooks his fingers just so, finding and stroking her most sensitive spot. He adjusts the pressure until he finds one that makes her breath catch and has her moaning, unbridled and wanton.

“O—oh,” she whimpers; her eyes squeezed closed, tugging at the bedsheets. “Hells. A-f-fuck—Astarion.”

Gods. He loves that sound; his name a prayer upon her lips.

He could undo her like this, but Hells, he craves the taste of her lust. Astarion licks and kisses her stomach as he continues to thrust his fingers into her sensually. She blinks slowly and watches him crawl down her body with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

Astarion snaps his eyes to hers, kissing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and then pushes her leg, spreading her for him. He pants shakily, opening his mouth and pressing his tongue against her clit.

He groans gutturally under his own rampant desire as he laps up her sweet arousal. She squirms and whimpers with every lick of his tongue, every pump of his fingers, and he can’t help but wrap his hand around his throbbing cock and stroke himself.

Her fingers twist into his hair, and he closes his eyes as he savours her. Astarion takes his time working her to her climax until her thighs start to tremble, her moans come between uneven breaths, and a flush blooms over her skin.

Astarion’s fingers continue to rub that perfect spot inside her. His lips close around her swollen clit. He sucks gently, flits, and flutters his tongue in the way he knows will send her cascading into ecstasy.

Her body convulses, thighs trembling on either side of him as she succumbs to her climax. He indulges himself, watching her come, watching her lose herself in blinding sensations.

He’s not sure he’s ever seen anything so godsdamned spellbinding and arousing.

But he’s not quite done with her yet. He angles his fingers, pulses his tongue, and watches her ride out every wave of pleasure, drinking in her nonsensical whimpers. Only when she’s gasping for breath and shaking does he let up.

“You, my love, are a delectable treat.” He purrs, crawling up her flushed body until he’s holding himself above her. “In so many more ways than one.”

“Show me,” she stammers between irregular breaths.

He kisses her intimately, his tongue still coated in her rapture, exploring her mouth. Kamena carves her curves into every contour of his body, pressing her heated skin to his.

This is the way he remembers her - unapologetic, unafraid, and passionate.

Astarion grasps her hips, pulling her toward him, and runs his aching cock through her seam. “S-shit,” he stutters at the exquisite sensation.

He watches raptly as his cock sinks into her, swallowed in tight warmth, his girth stretching her. They fit together too perfectly to be anything other than made for each other.

He thrusts slowly, deeply, and intensely. Every moan he liberates from her is echoed with his own. They are both a mess of desiring hands, deep, intimate kisses, and promises of devotion and love.

She folds her arms around his neck, pulling herself flush to him, her breasts heaving against his chest. He leans back, sitting on his ankles with her in his lap and her legs around his waist. He plunges deeper, grinding into her, and she clenches, squeezing him as his length massages her ridges.

She is like supping on dawn’s fire, the way she lights up just for him is the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

Bliss escalates and flows, surging between them, and she melts into him. He laces his fingers into her hair, and her body tenses at the threshold of her release, every muscle quivering against him. She whines into his mouth, and he increases the pace of his thrusts, bringing her higher, higher, higher.

His own breathing is ragged and uneven; his body taut and veiled with sweat. Every thrust draws a panting whimper from his lips. He kisses her deeply, devout and passionate, as he throws her over the edge.

Her sex is still spasming around him as he bucks his hips into her, his forehead pressed to hers and her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Every erratic pump of his hips is met with another shockwave running through her, stimulating his sensitive head, and he cries out loudly as his own release takes hold, a swelling wave of fire blazing through him with an intensity he’s never known.

He grinds his hips while his cock pulses deeply inside her, filling her completely.

Time seems to stop as they sit together in this everlasting serenity, holding each other closely, bodies trembling in the aftermath.

Marry me.

The thought comes unbidden to him. In his confusion, he does not dare speak it aloud. An idea spurred on by a moment of passion, surely.

Once her heart rate has returned to a steady pace, he nuzzles her, nose to nose, and she giggles, light, airy, and happy. He would give anything to keep her here in this moment where she is weightless and worry-free.

He kisses her once more, gentle and cherishing. She looks up at him, and he gazes back at her. There is no need for words. Their eyes have a secret language that only their souls are fluent in.

Good Gods. Marry me.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x you #astarion x mc #astarion #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #baldurs gate astarion #shadows of the past

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wingwaver · 1 year ago

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A few tips for new Tumblr users wanting to write here

Yo if you're here from Reddit or Twitter or some other site and just wanted to give this a shot you may have seen some blogs that are dedicated to writing headcanons or short fics or even original works for their own OCs and you may be thinking "hey I wanna give that a shot! I like to write!" then I have some tips to make it easier on you and people who see your content.

1. First off, if you're writing a pretty long piece the you should probably put it under a read more, it'll look like this on mobile

and this on desktop

or you can write :readmore: on a line by itself and press enter.

2. Now if you're gonna write for a whole bunch of different fandoms and you wanna make a master list then I suggest making an actual list with the fandoms you write for and then making more lists with the actual content as a you go along because you can only have 100 links in one post (I know that sounds like a lot but as someone who has around 300 Transformers things written trust me you fill up a post quicker than you expect, especially if you take requests from other people). The way I typically do it is like this

The first pic is the MASTER master list that lists everything I write for and when they're underlined like that it means they're links. The second pic is after clicking the G1 link, it's a separate post that has the actual fics and headcanon links. Note the 6/100 in the tags, this is how I keep up with how many things I've added. You can of course just use the numbers options from here

or just number them manually from your keyboard like I'm doing with this post. Adding links has no barring on what else you add to the post so you can add yourself some fancy header or divider pics if you want.

3. Adding links! Links can look like this https://www.tumblr.com/wingwaver/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons?source=share or like this https://wingwaver.tumblr.com/post/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons depending on whether you're linking from mobile or desktop/browser Just highlight the text you wanna add a link to and a the little chain will move to the end, click it and paste your url you want to link to and press add link, then press post/save draft/save (whatever the blue button says)

Now you've successfully linked a post to another post!

4. Tagging! To get your fics and headcanons seen to build an audience you usually wanna tag the stuff correctly. If you're posting a fic about Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright from Ace Attorney then you'll tag it with #Ace Attorney, #Miles Edgeworth, and #Phoenix Wright in the tags area. But it's also a good idea to mention if it's a ship or general fic in the tags too. If so then putting ship names and #Miles Edgeworth x Phoenix Wright and #Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright in the tags will help everyone know this is a ship fic. Tagging with characters or fandoms that aren't apart of the fic just clogs the tags for people looking for content of said characters and fandoms so it's very looked down on here and will likely get some of your stuff reported for spam so only use the relevant tags. Also tagging for triggers can be tricky here because of how fucky tumblr is but please don't tag censor tags. Tagging things like #a**** or #a*use or even #abu$e doesn't work here because people who have #abuse blacklisted will be able to see this content because it wasn't tagged properly. Also if you're writing for OCs or reader inserts it's common courtesy to tag those appropriately too. Someone looking for a reader insert may not want to read an OC and vice versa. Also many people filter those out so try to add tags like #x reader, #*fandom name* x reader, and #*character name* x reader for easier filtering. Also people cruise those tags too so it'll help people who fo want to read that content find your stuff!

#tumblr tips #writeblr #twitter migration #reddit migration #reddit blackout #twitter refugees #196 #r/196 #Twitter #Reddit #fanfiction #writing #writing blogs #tumblr help

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someprettyname · 6 months ago

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✨GF FC INDIGO AWARDS 2024 PT 7✨

Some points to note before you move to the event visualizer :

🟣 My anchoring style is highly energetic and bubbly so you can imagine me doing a lot of hand gestures, changing pitch and tones of my voice, moving around on the stage a lot, etc. Hehe.

🟣 The theatre/event venue has been engineered by the best engineers of the world, with the most modern technology. The petals of the lotus can close or open to hide or reveal the night sky. It can also change its colours. For tonight, it's indigo!

🟣 The "OUTFIT CHECK" were clicked in different places (according to where the member was spotted first) hence the different background.

🟣 I didn't want to write too dialogues on yall's behalf but I can't really bother you with every small detail, so I hope whatever dialogues I've made up are not too out of character!

🟣Ignore the contradiction of same blue locker entering the scene multiple times, pretend there are a few copies of each member 🥰👍🏻

🟣 Ignore the outfit mismatch in the edits (any edit after the outfit checks please, our editing skills only go so far 🙏🏻 )

🟣 I highly suggest that you listen to songs as you keep finding them being embedded in links for added feels and extra hype! 🔥

🟣 The performances where multiple songs have been used is supposed to be a mashup. You can imagine the mashup to be as you please! The songs I've bunched together are for the sole purpose of creating a particular vibe, so as long as to they are fulfilled it's all good! 😌🤝🏻

🟣 The posts are scheduled at a gap of 3-4 hours each, this event is going to be spread throughout 2 or more days. Feel free to go feral in the comments/reblogs/community my mates. 🔥

🟣 I hope you enjoy this! Tagging all the attendees here :

@glue-thief @getosugurusbangs @bueris @soleilonthesun @galaxynajma

@sid3buns @mariyumemi @pinkinsect @refrigeratedboombursts @satosuguhastakenovermylife

@10renz0 @simp-simp-no-mi @boinin @sharkissm @milkteansugar

@thebestsetter @merlucide @jujutsustraycats @kurona-theshark @nskiyuriz

@asarajaa @writingonthewalls1832 @hooudie212back @sadao-tsuki @milaisreading

@8-xnny @licoririce @rinitoshisgirl @luvingshidou @duckydee-0

@kuro-min @gojoracle @marcsnuffy @filecurropt0 @riririnnnn

@wroophruh @sanaexus @melodiclune

Previously on GF FC INDIGO AWARDS :

GLITTER GALS SPREADING THEIR 🌟SHIINEE🌟 ON THE STAGE AND TO EVERYONE IN THE AUDIENCE!!

✨OSHA✨ memers were awarded.

Newest member showcase performance by @/8-xnny!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Nami : MY OH MY CAN YOU ALL 🎶FEELLLL THE RHYTHM🎶 IN MY VEINS?? (⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠♪

Nami : THAT WAS SOOOO GOOD MY GOD!! EVERYTHING FEELS ROYAL RIGHT NOW, DOESN'T IT GANG? *turns the mic to audience* 🎤

*hears loud cheering and hooting*

Nami : HELL YEAHHHHH YOU ALL BETTER KEEP THAT HYPE UP BECAUSE WHAT WE GOT OVER WITH WASN'T 50%.

Nami : In fact, it was barely 30% ha! I am not going to reveal how many award category are left, yet. But there are certainly a LOT OF THEM. And how can there not be? You all are GRAND existences. Plainly simply just so special. 🥹❤️

*Hears a sudden cheering and clapping uproar from the audience.*

Nami : HAHA! FACTSSSSSS I KNOW RIGHT? 😈😎

Nami : Alriiiiight ladies and gentlemen HOOOLLD ON TO YOUR SEATS BECAUSE THIS NEXT PERFORMANCE IS DEFINITELY GOING TO LEAVE YOU !!!!SHOOK!!! 🤩😈😎😌

Nami : LET. THEM. FEEEEEL LIKE A ROYALTYYYY WITH YOUR LOUD APPLAUSE : TEAM PLATINUM PRINCESSES!!!

[ links : monster - lyrics | favourite | popular | espresso | typa girl - lyrics - choreography ]

Nami : 😙🎶

Nami : Told y'all didn't I?

Soleil : EVERYONE LOOKS FIRED UP NAMI 🤩 NOW'S THE TIME TO MOVE TO THE NEXT CATEGORY!! 🔥💪🏻

Nami : ALRIGHT ALRIGHT! But before we move to buisness, COME ON EVERY ONE!! GIVE ME A WOOP! WOOP! *Turns the mic to audience* 🎤

*The member in audience reply with WOOP!👏🏻 WOOP!👏🏻*

*Some members and blue lockers are so fired up they are standing and throwing their hands in air to cheer and encourage.*

Nami : PERFECT! 😌😎🔥💪🏻

Nami : LET US INTRODUCE YOU TO THE NEXT AWARD CATEGORY : GF FC INDIGO GRAND AWARDS!!!

(*Fireworks are seen blasting on the stage and the audience bursts into applause, hootings and cheers as camera zooms past trophies.*)

Soleil : As the name suggests : this is for the members who are the ABSOLUTE BEST at what they do. Unlike honorary awards, only ONE member can win this award for a sub category. Some awards have nominations and some are won by members who are no less than ONE MAN/WOMEN ARMY, hence no nominations. Simply gracing them with this award. Because it would be a sin otherwise.ヽ⁠(⁠･⁠ˇ⁠∀⁠ˇ⁠･⁠ゞ⁠)

Nami : That's right ladies and gentlemen, in a way or the other, these awards are nothing less than the main awards of tonight!! So who will take these absolutely ethereal trophies home tonight? 💁🏻‍♀️✨

Soleil : Well, that's a mystery for us to unfold 😌

(*They both give each other a knowing look and share a high five.*)

Nami : Since we started the night with a note of 'not forgetting our roots', it's only fair we continue it with that.

Soleil : PLEASE WELCOME ON STAGE, OUR BELOVED COACH WITH 70 YEARS OF EXPERIENCE AT THE RIPE AGE OF 19 : @/marcsnuffy ON THE STAGE FOR THE AWARDING OF FIRST CATEGORY.

(*The crowd claps and cheers enthusiastically as marcsnuffy makes an appearance.*)

Marcsnuffy : (*nods and wait for the cheers to die down before continuing*) Thank you! To be the coach of such an amazing team? Pleasure all mine! 😌

Marcsnuffy : The first GRAND AWARD that we'll be giving out tonight is THE GF FC INDIGO GRAND AWARDS FOR BEST BACKBONE TO THE COMMUNITY.

marcsnuffy : And I know Soleil said only one member can win this, but we have a history with bring exceptions don't we?

(*Distant hooting can be heard from the crowd.*)

Marcsnuffy : The two members who are sharing this award are....

🥁

Marcsnuffy : VAL AND NAJMA!!!

(*Val gasps while Najma almost tears up, Kaiser pats her on the back encouragingly and proudly [opposed to Isagi's energetic BAM! BAM! BAM! back pats] and they both make their way to the stage grinning greatefully.*)

Galaxynajma : When I first started Girlfriend FC I never thought in my wildest dreams that would get this big. I will forever be grateful to have met all of you this in this journey and I’m honored to be a nominee/won for these awards.

Galaxynajma : I wish I had the words to describe how you all make me feel how this team makes me feel

Honestly I couldn’t do it without my cat kitty kisser by my side and ofc Ben and Eli

Nami, Soleil and others : 🥹❤️

Glue-thief : it has been an honour to (accidentally) become one of the founding members of girlfriend fc! i didn't know what would happen when i decided to join najma and eli with a matching profile picture, and i didn't know what would happen when i decided to make one for each character. it has been awe-inspiring watching more and more people with these profile pictures show up in my notifications, and i know i wouldn't have made so many good friends without this experience. thank you girlfriend fc for this award. i love you all.

(*Crowd breaks into huge round of applause.*)

Soleil : oof! (*Fanning her face*) That almost made me cry.

Nami : Well, worry not then~

Soleil : Hm?

Nami : I think I got just the right performance to light you up!! 😎

Soleil : oh? 👀

Nami : 😌

Nami : HOLD ON TO YOUR HEARTS LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! BECAUSE THESE FOLKS COMING ON THE STAGE NEXT? THEY MIGHT STEAL IT!! :3

Nami : PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR TEEEEAAAM RADIANT RAVERS!!!!

[ link : stereotype - choreography | ASAP - choreography | After school - choreography]

Nami : I'm a good MC guys, ain't I? 😚 I warn y'all before a performance takes your breathe away ~

Soleil : You're saying that as if that helps them with their breaths anyways.

Nami : Hah? Are you blaming me? The ones to be blamed are our amazing performers.

Nami : And a certain someone else too, who blows away people's mind with their beauty ~

Soleil : You're changing the topic aren't you? But I'll let this one slide because we have coming up on stage @/mariyumemi for GF FC INDIGO GRAND AWARDS FOR BEST MANAGER!!!

(*A pleasant theme plays over speakers as mariyumemi comes up on stage.*)

Mariyumemi : I think this one's pretty obvious so let's just put our hands together for....

🥁

Mariyumemi : @/licoririce!!!!

(*She gasps and Anri instantly hugs her happily before she gets up, hugging the ones on her table and making her way to recieve the award.*)

Licoririce : It can’t be put into words how grateful and honored I am to be nominated for these award(s)! First and foremost, I’d like to thank my boyfriend/wifey, Anri Teieri, for existing! I probably would not have found out about the Girlfriend cult icons had I not been looking through your Tumblr tag. Love you miss girl 🫶🫶

Licoririce : I’d like to shout out to Riri (riririnnnn) and Kira (merlucide)...[ *Camera cuts to both of them who are then seen all hyped up and cheering for their miss manager* ].....for being the first interactions I had within GFFC. They’re consistently funny and I love whenever I see their posts on my dash. I can’t believe they nearly killed each other for my kisses!!

Licoririce : Actually thank you to girlfriend fc as a whole ! I’ve only interacted with a small portion of the community through my askbox but I love how friendly everyone is. Drawing Blue Lock characters in a bright pink football jersey is hilarious and has gotten me to pick up drawing as a hobby again. It’s been great fun to bond over everybody’s fictional girlfriends. You guys are amazing!

Soleil : And we're glad to have such a amazing manager as you, miss!! 🥹✨

Nami : Now then Soleil, what do we have next? (⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠♪

Soleil : Let's see. Till now, we as gf fc have had battles over beauty [*camera cuts to RIRI and KIRA who wave proudly*]...

Soleil : ...gone to space [*Camera cuts to IZZY and a feral (🤑🤪🤟🏻🔥) shidou can be seen in the background all hyped up*]...

Soleil : ...discovered the our roots and realised the family tree we are part of [*camera cuts to ISH*]....

Soleil : ...won car racing tournaments [*Camera cuts to Hooudie with a pleased looking REO in the background*]...

Soleil : ....lost out hairs and gotten it back, investigated Kidnapping [*camera cuts to a nervous yet relieved looking Kira who's patting her hair just in case*]....

Soleil : ...got kidnapped [*camera cuts to Oki whom Otoya hold protectively at the words*], and so much more.

Soleil : BUT one thing we shouldn't forget is we all started as FOOTBALL players. And it's only fair to award those of us who are the stars on the field.

Nami : True. True. (*nods*)

Nami : And even though that would practically be...all of us really. Some are a god's angel on the field, contributing largely to our wins.

Soleil : Indeed! So let's start shall we?

Nami : ABSOLUTELY!! 🤩🤩

Soleil : well, it only makes sense if we start with GF FC INDIGO GRAND AWARD FOR BEST COACH, since we are nothing without our coach!!

Nami : That's right! Ladies and gentlemen, out your hands together, for we have coming up on stage ASH (@/refrigeratedboombursts) to hand out this award!!!

[*Camera cuts to marcsnuffy who has a very proud and pleased looking marc snuffy sitting beside her, with his hand on her shoulders : a gesture of proudness.*]

ASH : Huge round of applause for.....

🥁

ASH : @/MARCSNUFFY!!!!

(*She smiles widely, hugging marc snuffy and moving on to the stage with people patting her back on the way.*)

Marcsnuffy: Thank you all for being here tonight. Strikers, defenders, midfielders, goalies and observers, it's wonderful to see everyone come together in such an elegant and well organized event.

Marcsnuffy : Back when it first started, this team was conformed by a mere handful of players. Today, there are over 50 girlfriend (and boyfriend!) havers amongst us. I might not even know some of you, but just know I'm grateful for each and every single one of you.

I want to thank my not girlfriend, Marc Snuffy. He has been my inspiration for a long time and every single merit I am awarded with is dedicated to him. (Please ignore the fact I am the most hands off coach to ever exist. I don't think I've told any of you anything about the sport or anything). Literally the only man ever of all time. He's very dear to me. I also want to thank Najma for making this profile picture for me. I would not be here, amongst every other talented player at GF FC, if it wasn't for you. Lastly, I want to thank every member of this football club/group/cult. You're all appreciated, no matter what you do. Thank you for all your hard work and participation.

Soleil and Nami : THANK YOU COACH!! 🤩🔥

Nami : You might be a hands off coaching style kinda coach, but your words always motivate and encourage us!!

Soleil : Yes Nami, indeed! I'd personally go as far as saying a huge credit of all our victories goes to her!! ❤️❤️

Nami : I know, I know! We are nothing without her 70 years of experience are we? 🤧

Soleil : No we're not. But a FOOTBALL team ain't nothing without their STRIKER either, are they?

Nami : Oh well 😈 true that 😈

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Best striker award coming up.....stay tuned!!

[ organiser : @/someprettyname

script writing credits : @/someprettyname

proofread by : @/melodiclune

editing credits : @/soleilonthesun ]

#girlfriend fc #Gf fc #girlfriend cult #gf cult #fc girlfriend #Gf fc : indigo awards arc

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comicaurora · 2 years ago

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are you scared of the whole AI art thing? What do you think about it?

"Scared" is the wrong word, I think. "Pissed" is probably more accurate. The technology underlying the concept is interesting, but its current form transparently functions by mining data from artists who didn't consent to have their work used like that. Arguments over whether it's "real art" or whatever aside, that is unethical and gross and a class-action lawsuit waiting to happen.

I think the people scared that this is going to replace actual living artists are severely overestimating the technology at play here and possibly don't understand computers very much.

The reason why computers are a fascinating mix of very smart and very stupid is because they are only good at doing exactly what they are told. Human thought, communication and creation is based on a process of flexible interpretation. Our brains take in patterns of light and sound and interpret them into shapes and figures and speech - a process that is imperfect, messy and susceptible to any number of disruptions from minor chemical alterations to major brain injuries. We read text and subtext and emotional undertones into what we hear, we extrapolate assumptions from the things we see. It's an extremely messy process with a lot of room for error, as evinced by miscommunications, corner-of-the-eye shadow people, "are you mad at me I feel like you're mad at me", getting hangry, assigning personalities to car taillights, audio processing disorders, and about a million other human idiosyncrasies.

Art, down to its bones, is about interpretation - the artist interpreting a slice of the world and the audience interpreting that art. This is why no two people experience the same story the same way, and why no two artists create the same work.

Computers, in contrast, are not messy. Or, to be more accurate, they aren't naturally messy. They do exactly what they are told. They have no context, no axioms, no common sense and no rules except what they're given. A human told to write a sentence over and over again and never being told to stop will eventually get bored or tired or hungry or pissed and stop. A computer told to 'while 1: printf("Hello World!")' will do it forever until the power goes out or someone notices and forces it to stop. A person told "hey man can you go to the store and get me a mango, and if they have apples get five" will acquire a mango and possibly five apples. A computer told the same instruction may well turn up with five mangos. A computer won't do anything if you forget to close a parenthesis or put in a semicolon somewhere in a thousand lines of code because it's doing exactly what it's told. The eternal frustration of computer science is figuring out why the stupid computer isn't doing what you told it to do, and the answer is always "you didn't tell it what to do right. Find the missing parenthesis. Don't capitalize that one variable."

An artist told to paint a fantastical landscape might paint beautiful mountains or flying cities or the high, arching curves of Saturn-style rings or ancient ruins or massive skeletons or any number of things. A computer told to render a fantastical landscape will, as I understand it, comb through a database it's been given by a human, find works a human or a human-trained algorithm tagged with "fantastical" "landscape" (or, if it's been made a little more complex, a word-web of other tags commonly added by a human to things tagged with "fantastical" and "landscape") and use a very impressive program created by a human to recombine them into a mashup of "fantastical" "landscapes" that may or may not parse correctly to the human who looks at it. The computer doesn't know. The computer isn't thinking. It's just doing what it's been told to do.

If we stop thinking of computers like people that are going to take our jobs and start thinking of them like tools that people use, the whole situation becomes a lot clearer. The technology isn't the problem. The people who baked in stolen datasets and the people who are using the tool to be dicks to artists are the problem. I'm not scared of the tech and I'm not scared of the people - I just wish they'd stop being dicks.

And even if we do reach the theoretical point where a computer can create art that actually stands up to scrutiny - you know, where the hands don't look like calamari plates and the eyes and teeth don't blur together and sharp delineating lines between clothing and skin don't just sort of dissolve into shadowy vagueness - I think that'll be the point we just shift into the "holy shit! two cakes!!" zone. 3D animation didn't make 2D animation obsolete. 4K screens didn't kill pixel art. The printing press didn't kill painting. Video only killed the radio star until podcasts brought them back. People enjoy lots of things.

#asks #not aurora #art stuff

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bengiyo · 11 months ago

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BL 2023 Review

I wasn’t sure how I wanted to write about BL for this year. I was originally going to do a The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly framework for it, but that feels meaner than I actually am about it. Instead, I think I’ll just write out some sections and unpack some things I felt along the way.

I Watched Too Much Again

Last year I engaged with about 92 productions around the world. This year it was 99 (I tracked stuff I completed here). Sure I dropped 18 of them this year, but goddamn. The problem with watching as much as I did this year is that I worked full time this year and also maintained a separate hobby. I also continued my twice-weekly watch sessions with my friend Emily, so there are an additional 100-ish watch sessions in here of rewatching, plus a few other rewatches (Theory of Love and My Ride most notably).

One of my struggles at this point is I’m far too familiar with the genre, and find myself feeling impatient and irritable with shows that aren’t to my taste the way I used to. Throughout the late summer and fall I found myself increasingly grumpier about the genre, and it didn’t get better until I had a holiday and basically slept a day to get some energy back. I also found myself growing apart from fans I’ve known and followed a long time. It’s been a difficult year for me as a long-time fan because my tastes, habits, and friendships in the genre have changed even if the amount I watch hasn’t really.

I Wrote a Lot This Year

I recently converted my watch tag away from my gaming internet persona to just my shortname, so all near-1000 of my Stray Thoughts posts can be found under #ben watches now. I’ve also been going back and adding #ben writes to some of the standalone pieces that I really liked. In reviewing them, the pieces I’m happiest about are my ode to Framboise from Kabe Koji Nekoyashiki-kun Desires to Be Recognized, my post begging everyone to watch La Pluie, my post about what it means to actually like queer men, my SBS ep 10 post that ended up being wrong, my post about the Lavender Scare and Be My Favorite, my Tokyo in April is… post about the breaking of the BL line,

However, the two posts I am most proud of is my half-joking response about why I think tagging each other back and forth across Tumblr in our writing is so important. and The Knowing: Being Queer in BL because I had so much great conversations with folks as a result of both of these posts.

Looking back at my own blog, this is probably the most active I’ve been in my entire time on this website, so thank you to everyone who interacted with me this year, because it really is people talking to me that gets me most inspired to write things down. Big shout out to @lurkingshan who will bug me repeatedly until I blog something that I said in passing.

We Started a Podcast!

After hanging out with @shortpplfedup since Bad Buddy, she got inspired and really wanted to bring something different to the BL podcasting sphere. I had time, and liked talking with her enough, so we started @the-conversation-pod. Now we’re a full year into it and planning out future stuff. It’s been so much fun being able to get things off my soul and break poor NiNi in our recording sessions.

From this year, I think my favorite episodes we did were The Moonlight Chicken Episode, the Eighth Sense episode, the ITSAY Anniversary Episodes, The Wedding Plan episode, , and The Holiday Clip Show. Huge shout out to @ginnymoonbeam for anchoring the transcription process, and @lurkingshan for editing.

The VIIB Awards will begin airing soontm so look forward to that.

Favorite New Term: Business Gay Performance

Let’s be clear, Bump Up Business is not good. It is an obvious BL cash grab from OnlyOneOf that seeks to comment on the fake nature of BL while doing everything it can to trick the audience into believing that the BL pair is real.

Before we got deeper into this year, I was a big fan of a certain pairing, and then their fans took it too far and it affected the way I engaged with their performances and their work. I like that we have a new term for “fanservice” that communicates that you understand that this is for work. (thanks to NiNi for this comparison) I can look at the latest behind the scenes video from Last Twilight and say that I think Sea really understands the work they’re doing, and he and Jimmy have a very relaxed and mature version of BGP without feeling like I’m feeding into shipping.

Do I think they’re dating? No. Do I like the way they fake it? Absolutely!

I can look at one of @respectthepetty posts about Yin and War having personalized, color-coded mics, and we can talk about the next level BGP between the two and both communicate that we know that this is a performance.

It actually makes the extra PR work fun for me again, because now I can just shout “BGP! BGP! BGP!” and it not feel like I’m giving myself brainrot.

Thai BL Needs to Finish Stronger Next Year

Let’s get into some of the show stuff. This year was defined for me by Thai BL starting strong with good premises and then squandering them by not focusing on the details that mattered or leaning into baseless melodrama. Time for some reads. Some of these shows were generally good, but they failed at these things:

609 Bedtime Story: The world building crumpled in the back half and both endings are flat.

A Boss and a Babe: Cher is a pro gamer who worked for a gaming company and there was no plot point about this at all, or collaboration between the two groups.

Bake Me Please: Why was a show about cake so lacking in flavor?

Be Mine SuperStar: You had a real opportunity to explore a fan and idol romance and had Punn show so little growth. I hope the footage of First’s range is helpful now that Ja is out of BL.

Be My Favorite: You redid that whole amusement park date and muddled so much of what the hell happened on that day.

Between Us: You had years to make this interesting. Why are there five pairs and why is the end of this a JC Penny catalog photoshoot?

Dangerous Romance: What the fuck happened to the Sailom we had in episode 1 and 2 before that gun incident?

Hidden Agenda: Tee, what the hell was this? Twelve weeks of this?

I Feel You Linger in the Air: You may be the most beautiful show, with some of the most impressive performances of the year, but you absolutely botched this ending. Finish the goddamn season next time.

Love in Translation: I love you, but that whole kidnapping plot was so stupid at the end.

Low Frequency: I like your OST. That's about it.

My Dear Gangster Oppa: No examination about how gaming friendships become close quickly because of the combination of anonymity and teamwork (shout out to @twig-tea for this excellent summation).

My School President: Saving your gay commentary for the final episode felt like a conservative choice. I want more from you next time.

Naughty Babe: You retconned your own characters to tell a worse story. Unforgiveable.

Never Let Me Go: You didn’t know if you wanted to be a high school BL or a mafia story. It was difficult to watch.

Only Friends: I cannot believe you did Boston like that at the end. Either give Force’s character a clear personality next time, or keep him enigmatic; half measures make him and Book look worse. Sand was absolutely embarrassing. Boeing was a waste. Ending on all of them paired like that felt so unearned.

Step By Step: You forgot to ground Jeng’s external dreams at the end, so the final two episodes are just frustrating.

I’m glad I got that off my chest. We can go into the next year now.

Korea Put in the Work This Year

I really like the efforts from the various Korean studios this year. I really hope we get a Strongberry joint next year, but I want to acknowledge that we had 18 Korean BL dramas I watched this year, and at least three of them I think are must watches: Our Dating Sim, Sing My Crush, and The Eighth Sense. Beyond that, I think Love Tractor, Unintentional Love Story, and A Breeze of Love are easy recommendations.

It’s really impressive how the complaint for me this year with Korean BL is not about them using their time poorly. It’s more about normal drama concerns, where I think characterization is a little weak, or a theme doesn’t land squarely. This rapid iteration from the Korean studios is really impressive to watch, and I’m excited to see what some of the recognized players do next year.

Taiwan and The Philippines Have Been Quiet for Me

I wasn’t really able to connect with much from the Philippines this year except for The Day I Loved You. I never wrote about The Day I Loved You, but this beautiful and heart wrenching show is one of my favorites from this year. I wasn’t too keen on the Oxin Films offerings of this year, and I’m still chasing down the ones from The IdeaFirst Company.

As for Taiwan, this new BL project from the end of the year just isn’t hitting. Kiseki: Dear to Me also ended up really hurting me with the way they used Wayne Song and Huang Chun Chih. I love that angry little man with the white hair, but I’m still salty about Wayne and the general mess of that show.

Japan was Busy This Year

I watched 16 new shows, a few older ones, and a few movies this year from Japan. We haven’t gotten this much from them ever. I continue to love the Drama Shower project from MBS, and my beloved What Did You Eat Yesterday? returned this year. We had pretty stellar outings with Our Dining Table, If It’s With You, and I Cannot Reach You.

I think a third of the Japanese BL I’ve tracked on MDL actually released this year. That’s huge.

Still, I am going to side eye Minato’s Laundromat 2. You were the show that let me down the most this entire year. More than Only Friends, more than Step By Step, and even more than Kiseki. You absolutely blew it. You were telling a great story about a man with an acute case of internalized homophobia coming out of his shell and learning to love his younger partner and you blew it for stupid amnesia nonsense. I will never forgive you for this.

Where Were All the Uncles This Year?

Really, without Jim from Moonlight Chicken, and without the men from What Did You Eat Yesterday? we had an alarming dearth of older gay characters passing on knowledge and wisdom to the youngsters this year. What the hell happened?

Rare Dynamics Won: Second Chance Romance and Friends to Lovers!

We had so much second chance romance this year. It’s really my favorite version of gay romance because gays don’t always have ideal settings when they’re young. We had Our Dating Sim, Individual Circumstances, Jun & Jun, The End of the World With You, Tokyo in April is…, Be My Favorite, Love Class Season 2, and A Breeze of Love. I am satisfied.

Friends to Lovers is actually so rare in romance and we have so many to choose from this year! The best examples are I Cannot Reach You and Sing My Crush, but we also have one of the pairs in Love Class Season 2.

Gay Thoughts

I had a couple of ongoing thoughts this year about queerness in BL.

First, I want to return to my post about Sing My Crush and La Pluie, and how I assert that Men Need to Be Angry Sometimes. More than giving men grace to be righteously angry or upset about things, along with letting them express it in ugly ways, I really want to get into how we engage with these shows. I will stop engaging with moralistic reads on characters in 2024. I will no longer engage with asks, reblogs, or meta gripping the fandom where we're judging the moral fiber of the character.

The question that really only matters for me at this point is: Is this act from the character justified from their characterization, the narrative, or genre conventions; and is it interesting? Whether or not the character is good or bad reeks of the lame arguments about good and bad representation, and I am not watching BL like I’m being graded in Sunday school.

The second thing I really want to acknowledge at the end of the year is that the gay sex is finally getting better again. I watched The Novelist this year, and we have taken so long to get back to the space that show took us on the portrayal of male-male intimacy. We are in the genre about people with dicks. It should feel like it. There should be a masculine component there that feels specific to queer intimacy.

I will acknowledge 2 Cutie 2 Pie, A Boss and a Babe, Be Mine SuperStar, Bed Friend, Candy Color Paradox, For Him, I Cannot Reach You, Kiseki: Dear to Me, La Pluie, Love Class 2, Love in Translation, Love Mate, Middleman’s Love, Naughty Babe, Only Friends, The End of the World With You, Tokyo in April is…, and Wedding Plan for your contributions.

Final Thoughts

I like how broad the genre felt this year, and I enjoyed how much speculative fiction is entering into the conversation. I don’t know how I feel about there being five vampire stories in the works next year, but overall I’m glad that we’re getting more experimental concepts. I’m burnt out on the college engineering BL, and would like to see more shows about working adults.

Despite how grumpy I was for at least three months, I think this has genuinely been one of the best years we’ve ever had in the genre. I made a lot of new friends in BL this year, and I’m excited to see what comes next. Thank you all for spending some of your time with me this year and I’ll see you in the next one.

#Ben writes #best of bl 2023 #bl series #thai bl #japanese bl #taiwanese bl #filipino bl #korean bl #ben watches

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