#love bites chapter 4

[joes-sha-la-la-la-girl]

Love Bites: Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Wednesday soon rolled around and Y/N couldn’t help the giddiness that overcame her as she went back to the studio. She had no idea what the boys had in store for this video but she was excited to find out. She was also excited to see Joe again. She knew that she shouldn’t be and that she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home. However, a part of her was wanting to pretend something could happen between them and how different things would be if only she wasn’t with Doug. 

As Y/N arrived, the receptionist from before let her straight through. The smile that crept onto her face was soon reciprocated when the band spotted her immediately. As she walked up to them, they all greeted her with a hug. Joe did so reluctantly, knowing that there was a chance that he wouldn’t be able to let go of her again. Luckily he had the strength to, but he felt himself shaking slightly. Joe had no idea how this woman had managed to make him feel this way in only one week. But she had. And he now had to face the consequences of it.

“It’s good to see you again Y/N.” Sav smiled at her after his lead singer let go.

“You too. Sorry about leaving so suddenly on Saturday night, Doug was tired.” Y/N excused her boyfriend. She wasn’t sure as to why she apologised for him, but she thought it was only polite to.

“No worries love.” Steve smiled at her. Y/N nodded her head and all the group could tell that there was something she wasn’t telling them.

Noticing the silence, Y/N decided to break it. “Happy Birthday Phil.” She grinned at the guitarist.

“Thank you darlin’” Phil smirked at her before they were all called to start.

*

They got on with filming the music video. Y/N’s main part was to be tied to a tree. She was to hang her head down and turn it from side to side but not look at the band. Y/N found that to be the hardest section of the video. The urge to lift her head and watch Joe nearly overwhelmed her but she managed to contain herself, not wanting to ruin the shot for the lads.

It wasn’t the most comfortable position to be stuck in but Y/N was grateful that she wasn’t back in a cage with women that she didn't know. She appreciated the directors' need to get her shot done quickly so that they could unchain her. During Phil’s guitar solo, her handcuffs would come undone and she could lower her arms. They were not tight on her wrists but she was thankful nonetheless that she had her arms back. 

After that section was done, Y/N was moved to sit down at a chess table with none other than Peter Mensch dressed as a monk. It didn’t take long to shoot the scene of the two of them playing chess, something Y/N was thankful for as she did not know how to play.

“Okay let’s have lunch.” The director yelled. Y/N stood up and walked over to where the band was gathered. They all greeted her again, commenting on how good she looked during the video. 

“So where are we heading for lunch?” Sav asked as the group moved towards the exit. ”Same place as last time?”

“Sure, you coming Y/N?” Rick asked the girl.

“Can do.” She smiled at the drummer as they all went to the little cafe that they went to last week. All the boys found it highly amusing that Y/N had to keep her makeup on in public due to the fact that they still had segments of the video to film.

They all made their way down the street to that little cafe that they visited before. Sitting down at a table, the light chatter filled the air as they all decided on what they wanted. Sav and Y/N going up to order for the group.

“So how’s Doug?” Sav asked as they waited to order their food.

“He’s uh fine.” Y/N told him, trying to sound confident but failing to do so.

“Really? Look I know that it’s none of my business, but we are all going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few months and I want you to know that you can talk to me okay?” He told her sincerely. The glint in his blue eyes told Y/N that he knew a lot more than what he was letting on.

“Okay.” She gave him a small smile before her attention was taken away by the server.

The two ordered for everyone before going over to sit down and wait for it to be ready. Y/N couldn’t help but notice that Joe was being rather quiet. Granted she didn’t know him all that well yet but last week he had presented himself as outgoing and friendly. Today however, he looked almost glum. No matter how much the rest of the group tried to involve him in the conversation, they only gave one or two worded answers in return. 

*

They got back to carry on filming. Y/N had her makeup touched up again as they prepared to film the middle part of the video. Joe would be holding a sword as he walked down the path set out for him with Y/N standing behind him. Again this section didn’t take long to film and Y/N was done for the day. She was watching them all as she removed her makeup and tried to tame her hair a little bit, knowing that with all the hairspray, not much could be done until she washed it out. 

It came to the end of the day and she said goodbye to all the lads, knowing that she wouldn’t see them again until the tour started in two months. Each of them gave her a hug as the said bye, all telling her that they couldn’t wait for the tour.  She returned the sentiment before making her way out of the building, feeling down that she wouldn’t be in their company again for two months.

She soon made her way to Doug’s car and got in silently.

“You took a while again today.” Was the first thing he said to her as she got in the car.

“I told you last week that I don’t know how long the videos are going to take.”

“Even so. I’ve been waiting ages.” 

Y/N just rolled her eyes at him, not bothering to respond, knowing that he just wanted another argument.

“I’m serious Y/N, how do I know what you are doing in there with all those men.”

“What do you mean? You know exactly what we are doing. We are shooting a video. It’s not just me and the band you know. There are loads of people there.” She told him.

“I just find it weird how my girlfriend wants to spend so much time with other men rather than her own boyfriend.”

“I spend so much time with you Doug. Whenever you are not at work you are with me. Whether that be at home, or rehearsals or waiting in the bloody car for me.” Y/N could feel the tempers rising in the small car. 

“When’s the tour?” Doug changed the subject slightly.

“February.”

“So it’ll be you with those men again?”

“Yes, as well as Tammy, Johnny and Benji.”

“Do you have to go?”

“What?”

“You heard me Y/N. Do you have to go on tour with them?”

“Yes Doug this is huge for the band. Why wouldn’t I go?”

“I just don’t trust those rockstars.”

“It doesn’t matter. You should trust me.” Y/N tried not to shout knowing that it would only make matters worse.

“I should go with you.”

🤍🤍🤍

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

The Golden Elf

Love Bites, Chapter 4 // Love Bites {Masterlist}

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x fem!vampire spawn!elf!Tav/reader

Summary: Sometimes, vampires choose their spawn specifically. Sometimes, they're in the wrong place at the wrong time and are lost to their loved ones for centuries. These days, that's all you can think about.

Word Count: 9,769 words

Warnings: 18+, smut & fluff, flashback within a flashback, past perspective, established relationship, Astarion pre-vampirism, Astarion's parents, the ruling, slice of life, direct mention of Astarion's death, you being deeply in love with Astarion, cuddling, sappy relationship, family dynamics, appreciating Astarion,

18+ Warnings: explicit smut, multiple instances of smut, unprotected sex, soft sex, slow & gentle sex, consensual, love making, fingering, vaginal sex, pull-out, aftercare, dirty talk, touching over clothes, mirror sex, multiple creampies, riding, oral (m receiving), changing positions, rough sex, consent check-ins, cockwarming

Note: This is a long chapter, possibly the longest in this whole series, and it's mostly smut. Have fun!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Morning dawned brightly in your bedroom—almost too brightly, which was explained by the curtains still being open from last night’s adventure to the roof with your boyfriend. 

You squeezed your eyes shut again and rolled over in bed, burying your face in his chest. “You left the curtains open, you dolt,” you complained into his chest. 

Astarion chuckled, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. “Good morning, darling. Nice to see you, too.”

To make up for your sour attitude, you moved to quickly peck his lips, then hid your face in his chest again. “Morning.”

“Oh, come on, darling. Can’t I get a better good morning kiss?”

You grumbled and shook your head. “Not yet. I’m not awake yet.”

“Fair enough.” He squeezed you tightly, rolling to lay you on top of him. He kissed the top of your head. “Sleep well?”

“I did. Until I was rudely awoken by the sun,” you added. 

“The sun is beautiful and wants to say hello to a very beautiful woman,” he teased. “That’s you, by the way.”

You grabbed your pillow and whacked him softly on the head with it. “It’s too early for this, Astarion.”

“Nonsense! It’s never too early for me to lavish my lady love with praise.” He kissed your temple. “Come on, darling, can’t I see that pretty face?”

At last, you raised your head and looked up at your boyfriend. Despite your bedhead and morning grumpy attitude and your squinty eyes, his handsome face broke into a smile at the sight of you. 

“There she is,” he cooed, cupping your chin and kissing your forehead softly. You hummed happily, leaning into his touch, and then put your head back down on his chest. “Still sleepy?”

You nodded. “Mhm. And you’re very comfortable… I could go back to sleep on you like this.”

Astarion’s body was warm beneath you, his skin soft and his body that wonderful in-between of muscle and soft flesh. His arms wrapped around you are more comfortable than the blanket draped over the two of you, the only thing keeping the two of you from giving your neighbors across the street (who were known to be quite nosey) an eyeful of two naked elves. 

“Oh, really? How about I…wake you up, then, darling?” he suggested, grinning cheekily and winking when you looked up at him. The only trace of the shy boy who’d nervously asked to make love to you for the first time so long ago was in the pale blush on his pretty cheeks, a much lighter shade than the flush you’d seen that first night.

With your words slurring together, you mumbled, “You have to go to work, Asty.” Still, you clung to him, not quite ready to let him go yet.

“Nuh uh,” he said, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “It’s still early—almost two hours early. We can have a little fun, go back to sleep, and I can still be perfectly on time.”

“Two hours? We woke up two hours earlier than normal because you left the curtains open? No wonder I’m not awake enough yet.”

“Almost two hours, not quite,” he said. He rubbed your back, his hand drifting toward your ass and squeezing. “What do you say, darling?”

You harrumphed. “Not until you close that curtain, dingus.”

“What, you don’t want the whole street to see how much pleasure I can give you? You’re no fun, dearest.”

You scoffed. “Oh, yes, because that’s exactly what Baldur’s Gate needs—to see one of its top magistrates banging his girlfriend in all the nasty ways she likes at five in the morning.”

“Fiancée, darling,” he corrected. “How long is it going to take you to remember that? Did I not make my proposal memorable enough?” He pouted playfully.

You giggled. “You did, believe me,” you insisted. “I just like hearing you say it.”

Astarion beamed. “Oh, really?”

You nodded. “Now go close those curtains, honey.”

He laughed as he stood up. “So now she wants sex.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” you said. “I can’t help it, I have a wonderful man in bed with me.”

You watched as he closed the curtain, the muscles in his shoulders and upper back flexing beneath the skin. For a man living a mostly sedentary life, he certainly kept in remarkably good shape.

Astarion turned back to you, the curtain closed behind him, a very pale light filling the room so that you could still see his face. “Happy now?”

The look on his face alone made you kick off the blankets and beckon him back to bed. “Very happy. Come here, you. Come kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Astarion crawled on top of you and slid his arms underneath you, kissing you heartily. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You let one hand drift over the shell of his sensitive ear and his entire body shuddered.

“Two can play at that game,” he warned, returning the favor. Pleasure shot through you and you sighed softly, arching to press your body against his. 

“Gods, Astarion,” you whispered. “Keep—keep doing that.”

He kept touching your ear as he moved down your body, kissing down your neck and collarbones, stopping at your breasts and paying special attention to one while gently squeezing the other in his free hand. Between kisses and sucking, he asked you, “Did I hear you say you wanted it nasty earlier?”

You rolled your eyes. “I was exaggerating.”

He looked up at you. “Do you want it nasty though?”

You shook your head. “Soft and sweet, please.”

Astarion smiled. “Thought so. It’s a bit too early to be rough with you, huh?”

“Mhm,” you agreed, smiling as he went back to sucking on your nipples. “Feels good, Asty…”

He took his hand away from your ear and instead brought it between your legs. “Can I touch you, darling?”

“Please do,” you whispered to him. “I want it.”

Astarion smiled against your skin and slid two fingers along your entrance. You spread your legs more for him and sighed contentedly. He kissed your stomach softly as he rubbed slow circles around your clit. You moaned softly. 

“Just like that, honey,” you breathed. But after a few moments, you bucked your hips against his hand. He knew exactly what you wanted and slipped two fingers inside you. He curled them at the knuckle and you keened, muffling your sounds in his shoulder. 

“That’s it, darling,” he breathed. “That’s it. As soon as we have our own place, you can be as loud as you want, but not yet.”

His fingers moved deftly inside of you, quickly working you up. He rubbed them against the soft, sensitive places of your walls while his thumb circled your clit. He pressed his soft lips to yours for every curl of his fingers. 

For some reason, you were particularly sensitive this morning; it didn’t take long before your body was twitching and spasming and your legs were beginning to shake.

“Close already?” he asked. You nodded. “Mind if I replace my fingers with my cock, then? I know it’s faster than normal, but I want to feel you cum around me.”

You nodded once again. “Please, honey…”

He pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean. Your eyes remained glued to his face, so you didn’t see him push in, but you did see his face scrunch up in pleasure and you felt the delicious stretch of your body trying to accommodate him. For a moment, it was a struggle and you whimpered quietly. He kissed you softly.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Can I keep going?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Alright. Good girl. That’s it, take my cock, darling.” He pushed all the way in and stayed there, holding you close to him for a moment, pressing his forehead against yours. “Tell me when I can move, and stop me if it hurts.”

You kissed him gently. His lips were a balm to any discomfort you felt in your nether regions, though there was hardly any of that anyway. “I’m ready now, Asty. You can move.”

“Tell me if it hurts,” he said again and kissed your forehead before he started to thrust gently and slowly.

Your head fell back against the pillows and you arched your back, pushing your body against him. He chuckled, bending to kiss along the column of your neck. 

“Feeling okay?” he asked, his tone teasing; he knew perfectly well you felt okay.

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he moved deeper. “Feels good… You’re— You feel good, honey.” 

“Oh, do I?” he joked, punctuating his words with a languid roll of his hips. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his hips. You pushed his head down to yours and kissed him heartily.

For a few moments, there was nothing but the sounds of your heavy breathing in the room, the slide of bodies against silk sheets, and your ceaseless kissing. He was moving so slowly that the sound of skin on skin was slight.

Into your mouth, he murmured, “You feel so good around my cock, darling… So tight and wet, like I’ve been working you up for hours… Did you, perhaps, have a pleasant dream about me?”

“I’m always having pleasant dreams about you, though not always the kind you’re suggesting,” you replied, smiling cheekily at him. He raised an eyebrow and you continued, “Dreams of our future together, dearest, and how much I love you—not just of how good you fuck me.”

He grinned. “Oh, you little minx! How I love you.”

Astarion reached down and began to rub your clit just the way you liked, thrusting a little harder, kissing you with a bit more force. You moaned happily into his mouth and he giggled. Gods, how you loved that little giggle.

He pulled away from you and brushed your hair off your face. He cupped your cheek, smiling down at you.

“You’re so beautiful, darling,” he whispered.

“So are you,” you told him. “You look like a god right now.”

It was true; his curls framed his face beautifully, glowing a soft silver at the ends, his honey eyes dark in this lighting. His cheeks were a pretty shade of pink with exertion, his lips parted, his gaze more than a little blissful. 

A mix of embarrassment and pride flooded his features. “Oh, darling, don’t flatter me…”

“I mean it,” you promised, cupping his cheek. He leaned into your touch. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you, darling,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours. You leaned up to kiss him again, your hand sliding from his shoulders and down the planes of his back. You adjusted your legs to hold onto him tighter. 

His thrusts grew harder and more punctuated. The head of his cock kissed your walls with every thrust. You let out small, barely contained whimpers with every thrust. He stopped kissing your mouth and nudged your chin up with his nose. He began kissing your neck, leaving delicate hickeys behind.

“A little louder, sweetheart,” he breathed. “I want to hear you a little more.”

“But your parents—”

“Are in a room downstairs. They can’t hear us. And if they do…well, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Astarion’s fingers sped up on your clit, giving you no choice but to moan for him. You panted his name, digging your fingers into his curls. He smiled against your skin, his movements quickening. 

You were clenching around him in no time. “Asty— Asty, I’m almost—”

“I know, darling, I know,” he cooed. “Let go for me. I’ve got you, just let go… I’ll be there with you soon.”

Comforted by his words and his hold on you, you relaxed and leaned your head into his shoulder. A few more gentle thrusts and a few more swipes of his thumb on your clit and your walls were trembling around him. You finished around him, moaning quietly into his neck, far more subdued than normal but enjoying yourself nonetheless. 

“That’s it, good girl,” he breathed. “You did so well, darling. Mind if I finish up?”

“Please do,” you whispered, kissing his cheek. 

His moan of relief was closer to a whimper. “Thank you, my sweet…”

One, two, three more thrusts and he was pulling out of you, spilling himself on your stomach. His jaw dropped open, his eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaved. He moaned softly as he came, silencing himself by kissing you heartily. He collapsed onto you the moment he was finished. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close to you as the two of you tried to catch your breath together.

“Was that good?” Astarion asked after a few moments, once again that shy, nervous boy seeking your approval. “You were quieter than normal.”

“It was a soft, quiet kind of morning,” you said, kissing his forehead. “You were perfect, Asty. I loved it. Every second of it. Did you?”

“Mhm,” Astarion said with a grin. “You always feel so amazing.”

You brushed your fingers through his curls. “I’m glad you liked it. I think…I think we need to have soft sex like that more often. It was quite nice, and we only ever do it in the morning.”

He glanced down at your body, at your abdomen still covered in his cum. “Here, let me clean you up.”

You watched him get up and disappear into the adjoining washroom. He came back a few moments later with a cloth soaked in warm water. You watched him cross to you, your eyes soaking up his lean figure and long, skilled fingers. 

“What’s that look for?” he asked, crawling back onto the bed and beginning to wipe down your stomach.

“Oh, nothing, I’m just admiring the love of my life,” you told him. He paused in his cleaning to kiss your lips. 

“I love you,” he whispered to you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“And I love you,” you returned, smiling softly at him.

He sat between your legs, gently wiping your folds and your entrance. You relaxed, humming softly, as he worked. When he was finished, he laid down next to you.

“Gimme that,” you mumbled, grabbing the cloth from him. You wiped him down also, cleaning his own release off of his abdomen from when he collapsed on you and your combined releases from his length and hips. 

“Thank you, darling,” he said when you were finished. You tossed the cloth to the floor, a problem for an hour from now, when you actually got up. He beckoned you back into his arms and you happily laid in his embrace. He stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head, hugging you to his chest, your legs twining together. 

Several peaceful moments passed, your mind stuck on the image of his cock dripping onto your stomach, twitching against you as he finished. At last, you said, “Astarion?”

“Yes, dear?” he mumbled into your hair, a few moments away from sleep.

“Later tonight…I want you to cum inside me.”

He jolted awake faster than you had ever seen. “You want me to what?”

Heat flushed through your body and your embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. “Only if you want to, but I…I think it might be nice. And we’ve waited long enough for it.”

Astarion tilted your head up with two fingers under your chin. His eyes were dark with desire again. “I understand your reasoning for it, darling, but I desperately want you to say it again.”

Excitement fluttered through you. “Tonight, when we have sex, I want you to cum inside me.”

A whimper escaped his lips. “Oh, gods above… Darling, you’re— Yes, absolutely, I— Yes!” He cupped your face and kissed you softly. “Oh, sweetheart… Gods, I can’t wait!”

You smiled. “You’re going to have to, honey, we have to get up soon and I would like my next hour of sleep back.”

He huffed. “Oh, yes, yes, I know. But tonight…you’ll let me?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. You’ll have something to look forward to all day.”

Astarion groaned. “If I get hard in court, this is your fault.”

You laughed. “You better not be thinking about fucking me in court, Asty, I think that would count as negligence.”

He frowned. “How so?”

“Because when you think about fucking me, you can’t focus on anything else. Believe me, I’ve seen the look in your eyes, I know when your brain’s elsewhere.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, hush. Just lay with me instead of teasing me. I want to hold you.”

Smiling, you snuggled into his arms. “Alright, alright. Let’s go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, honey.”

Astarion kissed the top of your head, humming his agreement. He let you snuggle into him and get comfortable before he rested his head atop yours and began rubbing soothing circles into your back. You drifted off, warm and happy in his arms.

~❊~

A brief knock on the front door announced Astarion’s arrival before he himself walked in, shaking rainwater from his coat and hair and carrying a paper bag with the corks of two wine bottles sticking out of it. 

“Hello, hello!” he called, not realizing you and his mother stood together in the kitchen, in the middle of making dinner. “It’s raining something awful out there— Oh! Hi, Ma.” He hung up his coat and joined you in the kitchen, kissing his mother’s cheek. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and kissed your temple softly. “Is Dad home yet?”

“Not yet,” Selwynn replied.

“How was work, hun?” you asked, turning your face to return the kiss. 

His face darkened briefly. “That’s a conversation for when my father’s present,” he told you and you knew instantly something hadn’t gone well. The more you studied him, the more exhausted he looked. 

“Are you alright, though?” you asked.

Astarion shrugged. “I’m alright.” He kissed you again and the softness of it alleviated your worries, but only a little.

From behind both of you, Selwynn tousled his hair. “Go wash up, darling, dinner’s almost ready. Your sweetheart will be waiting for you when you get back, I promise.”

You blushed and he rolled his eyes. No matter how many years you had spent with the Ancunin family, acknowledgement of your relationship with Astarion always brought heat to your cheeks, just as it had when you were kids and in denial about liking each other. 

Astarion left the kitchen and you helped his mother set up the dining table. Halfway through, his father, Thesan, came in—also complaining about the rain.

“Like father, like son,” Astarion’s mother whispered to you before going to greet her husband. You watched with a smile; with their greeting hugs and forehead kisses and the respect they held for each other, it was their marriage you and Astarion strove to emulate.

Astarion surprised you with his arms around your waist again and a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. “Smells amazing, darling,” he whispered to you. He peppered kisses down your neck and to your shoulder.

You giggled. “Keep that up and you’re going to wipe away the makeup I put on to hide all the hickeys you left on me this morning!”

“Ah, so that’s what’s missing! I knew something looked different,” he teased. He kissed your lips softly. 

“Behave yourself,” you reminded him, only half-teasing. 

Astarion greeted his father as the four of you sat down around the table. You passed dishes back and forth, serving yourselves, while Astarion’s father talked about his day and the rulings he’d made. Astarion tensed when he asked how his day at court had been. He took his time responding.

“Contentious,” Astarion finally decided. “There’s a group of Gur who aren’t too pleased with a ruling I made today.”

Thesan raised an eyebrow. “A ruling? What about?”

“Trade regulations,” Astarion said idly, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. There has been worse backlash over bigger problems than not being able to sell the teeth of vampires they’ve caught and brutally murdered.”

His father nodded. “The Gur can be a nasty sort, anyway,” he said, “and quite vicious.”

You pursed your lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t mean going against the Gur’s, I don’t know, is monster hunting a lifestyle? Doesn’t matter—ruling against them in this capacity, doesn’t that technically mean…the ruling protects vampires?”

“Not at all, darling,” Astarion assured you. “It doesn’t prevent them from hunting vampires, just from selling their teeth. Talk amongst my coworkers suggests there’s someone of high standing who wasn’t too pleased to find a necklace of vampire fangs in for sale by a Gur vendor.”

Thesan raised his brows. “So is this a ruling made by, or in honor of…pressures from, ah, on high?”

Both you and Selwynn tensed. The word bribery was never used by the two men, but it didn’t take much to deduce they’d both taken bribes for certain rulings before. It made your gut twist unhappily; Thesan could do what he wished, but you had hoped Astarion would avoid following in his father’s slowly corrupting footsteps. 

“Not exactly,” Astarion said, his tone too light to be completely honest, which was all you needed for confirmation. “I’m not lining my pockets by making this decision, that is. But I’d rather there not be vampire teeth on the market, especially if it can put the rest of us in danger.”

You cast your eyes back to your plate. You could hear the tone in Astarion’s voice, the one that suggested he didn’t really believe what he was saying, only rationalizing it. You loved the man, but, gods, how you hated how easily swayed he was. 

“Anyway, that’s beside the point—but no, the ruling doesn’t benefit the vampires in any way. Vampires aren’t even mentioned aside from the teeth!” Astarion added with a little laugh. “The Gur are angry because they believe it benefits the nobility. But it’s really neither here nor there, I think.”

Thesan was nodding his understanding. “Likely because there are no similar restrictions on the nobility.”

Astarion shrugged. “I think all we need to do is provide that restriction to calm the waters a little. Fair is fair?”

“Now, be careful with that, son,” Thesan said. “Nobility don’t take kindly to being told what they can and cannot do.”

You looked up sharply. “But won’t letting them do whatever they wish lead to—to outright lawlessness? It starts small, then works its way up to egregious crimes, all in the name of ‘an eye for an eye’?”

His father inclined his head to you with a small laugh, much deeper than Astarion’s. If it weren’t for the eyes they shared, the similar way they held themselves, and the fact that Astarion’s voice sounded just like his father’s when he got angry, you would question whether or not they were really related. “Quite the quick thinker you are, dear. Perhaps it would, though I doubt it. Most nobility would rather trade in bribes, political threats, and lies than get their hands dirty.”

You frowned. “Yet the Gur trade in death threats. They aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. Why not cater to them? They pose a bigger threat!”

“Darling, nobles are quite dangerous, even if they don’t seem that way,” Astarion said, reaching a hand out to you and a nervous glance to his father. Clearly, he could also sense the argument that was about to happen. 

“The Gur are dubious, deceitful, morally inept vagrants,” Thesan replied, his tone stonier than before. “Nobility are predictable; Gur are not. We know how the nobility will respond, but the Gur are a wild card. It’s best to stick to what you know.”

“So you’d trust the knife you can see versus the one hiding in the shadows? Even though the one in the shadows has the advantage?” you pressed, a mix of confusion and anger welling up inside of you. Astarion winced. 

Thesan was clearly fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “You’re assuming one has to be trusted,” he said. “But neither should be. All a magistrate should trust is himself.”

You sighed, putting down your fork. “I’m sorry, Thesan, but it really doesn’t seem that way. It— Forgive me, but it seems like you’d rather trust the corrupt, and the known corrupt, at that, rather than take a chance on people who are…brutally honest.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you insinuating that I—”

“Father,” Astarion cut in, his voice sharp. “She’s not insinuating anything. She’s making clear what her perspective is.”

“I don’t need her perspective, I’ve been a magistrate—”

“Well I value it!” Astarion snapped. He clenched his jaw and, calmer, continued, “I value her opinions on everything and have asked her to share them. I find it helps me make informed decisions—ones not mandated by our coworkers and higher ups.” 

Miffed, Thesan snapped, “I hardly need the input of children, Astarion! You may ask for her opinion, but I have no need for it and I will not be told how to do my job by—”

“That’s enough!” Selwynn said suddenly, loudly, smacking one hand on the table. You all jumped. “Neither of you are at work. This is a family dinner. Thesan, they may be young, but they are wise. We will listen to them without belittling them. And both of you are reasonable men who can solve things without shouting at each other—and ought to do it anywhere but my dinner table! As for you, my dear, you would do well to remember that Astarion and Thesan are not the same man, and while my son will take advice, my husband will not.”

You bowed your head to her. “Yes, Selwynn. I’m sorry.”

Astarion’s cheeks and ears were pink. He looked like a scolded child. “I’m sorry, Ma,” he said quietly. Selwynn took his hand and squeezed, then kissed the top of his head.

Thesan got out of his chair and went around to his wife, kissing her cheek. “My apologies, my love. My temper got the best of me.” He looked at you beside her. “I’m sorry, dear, I shouldn’t have dismissed you so easily. I will think on what you’ve said.”

You inclined your head in thanks. 

As Thesan returned to his seat, Selwynn cleared her throat and turned to you. “So! Tell me, my dear, how has your work at the tavern been going?”

Relieved the topic had turned to something far less contentious, your shoulders relaxed and you found yourself smiling. “Much the same as always—the same regulars with mostly the same problems. Kit’s finally getting a divorce but she’s terribly upset about it because she’s afraid her husband’s going to get the house. Lianon broke his foot and is convinced the only painkiller he needs to take is alcohol. Oh, I almost forgot! Tivi was asking after you, she wants to know how your newest sewing project is going. I said I’d ask, but I didn’t tell her you’re sewing my wedding veil, I knew she’d start screeching and we were quite crowded.”

Selwynn beamed. “Oh, it’s going quite well! I’m just finishing up on the trim—a string of lilies going around the edge, to match the ones in your crowns and on the tables. I must show you after dinner.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Am I allowed to see it, or must I wait until the big day?”

“You can see the veil, just not the dress, and especially not on me,” you teased.

“Are you still working as the barkeep?” Thesan asked, rejoining you all at the table. “I’m surprised you haven’t managed to swoop the whole business out from Barnabas’ feet, now that he’s getting up there in age.”

You bit back a grin. “Actually, he offered it to me. They want me to become the tavernkeeper once he retires.”

Astarion looked up. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“I only found out today,” you said apologetically.

“Do you want to take it?” he asked, biting his lip.

You shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“It would be a wonderful opportunity,” Thesan said. “Taverns are excellent moneymakers, even in a city like Baldur’s Gate, where there’s plenty of them. If you run it right, you could make it the best one around.”

You glanced at Astarion. He nodded encouragingly. “Well…Astarion and I have been talking, and… I’ve been considering leaving the tavern after we get married.”

Thesan propped himself up on his elbows. Selwynn shot him a look and he put his hands back in his lap. “Are you looking for something that might be more…sustainable, long-term? Or perhaps a higher wage?”

“Possibly?” you said. “I’m not exactly sure of the details yet—how long I’d stay at the tavern after we get married, for instance—but I think…” Astarion nodded again. “I think mostly I want to leave for better hours. It’s difficult enough when Astarion works in the day and I mostly in the evening as it is now, even with days like today when the other barkeep is working, but it absolutely won’t be manageable once we—” You licked your lips. “Once we have children.”

Selwynn gasped. “Are you expecting?”

“What? No!” You blushed profusely, glancing up at Astarion, and wondered how many times his parents had overheard you making love. “No, not yet. But we’ve been talking about it, and we want to start a family.”

Selwynn shrieked with joy. “Oh, that’s wonderful news! May the gods bless you with a babe, when the time is right for it.”

Thesan clapped Astarion on the back. “Congratulations, my son!”

Astarion blushed. “She’s not pregnant yet, Dad, wait until after the wedding!”

“You’ll tell us?” Selwynn asked. “When you are with child?”

You nodded. “As soon as we know for certain. But Astarion’s right—we won’t be trying until after we’re married.”

“Don’t be too discouraged if it takes a while, dearie, it took us almost a hundred years to conceive Astarion, and we were trying quite diligently,” Selwynn said, patting her son’s shoulder. He looked slightly mortified to learn this about his parents’ sex life. “The gods are careful with which elven soul they will give you to nurture.”

You finished dinner quickly and each of you helped clean up the mess of the meal until you told Selwynn and Thesan to sit down, and you and Astarion did the rest together. 

“They took it well,” Astarion murmured in your ear. 

“Of course they did, they want to be grandparents. Though I’m surprised they already want that this early—you’re only thirty-nine, you’re still technically their baby.”

Astarion sighed. “My mother misses holding an infant.” 

The two of you lapsed into comfortable silence, you washing dishes and Astarion taking them from you to dry them. Eventually, he restarted the conversation by kissing your head.

“Darling?”

“Hmm?”

“What you…what you told me this morning…” He hesitated, blushing like a teenager again. “Are you trying to get a headstart on having our family?”

You smiled. “Oh, goodness, no. I very much doubt we’ll get that lucky, and I’m quite certain I’m not ovulating. It won’t happen this time.”

“You’re ‘quite certain’ you’re not?” he asked. “How long have you been tracking it?”

“Several months now. I’ve been…wanting to tell you to—” You lowered your voice, even though you were already speaking at a low volume. “—finish inside me for quite a while, but I didn’t want to risk getting pregnant before our wedding. But I know that won’t happen tonight.”

Astarion kissed your cheek. “Have I told you you’re perfect?”

“Nearly every day, honey,” you laughed, leaning into him. 

“That simply will not do—I must tell you twice a day how perfect you are, darling!”

You giggled. “Careful, Asty, I might start to believe it.”

He lifted your head with two fingers under your chin, a warm smile in his eyes. Leaning in for a sweet kiss, he whispered, “I certainly hope you do.”

~❊~

The evening went on with talk of your wedding plans and the presentation of your unfinished veil over a couple of glasses of the wine Astarion had brought home. His parents retired to bed first while you and Astarion remained sitting in front of the hearth, sharing a comfortably padded lounge chair, the fire’s warmth making you sleepy in his arms and the orange glow turning him into a sun god. 

Astarion lazily swirled his wine in his glass. “Do you want to go upstairs?” he asked. You gave a noncommittal hum. “As much as I love it when you fall asleep in my arms, sleeping in this chair, though cozy, will do our backs no favors.”

You slowly extricated yourself from his arms. “Oh, alright. Upstairs, then.” You stood up and stretched. He finished the last of his wine and you both picked up the glasses and recorked the bottles. With that taken care of, you held out your hand for him and walked up the stairs together. 

While you washed and dressed for bed in the washroom together, you asked him, “Do you want to go out on the roof tonight?”

“There’s a chill in the air, and you’re wearing a short silk slip,” he said, sliding his hand up your inner thigh for emphasis. “You’ll freeze to death. Besides…” He leaned closer to your ear and squeezed your thigh. “There are better things for us to be doing.” His fingers found the gusset of your panties and he tsked. “You won’t be needing these tonight, darling.”

You leaned into his chest as his fingers kept stroking your covered slit. “Honey… Let…” You swallowed harshly. “Let me finish washing up first.”

He kissed the shell of your ear. You bit back a whimper. “I’m just going to make you dirty again, darling… Sweaty and slick and filled with me, in every way possible.” He began nibbling on the lobe of your ear. 

“Asty,” you mumbled, craning your head up and pulling his mouth down to yours, your back to his chest. You spread your legs, letting him cup your clothed mound in his hand. He kissed you hungrily, moving his hand from your thigh to your ass. He squeezed gently and gave you a light smack before holding you around the waist.

“Look at us in the mirror,” he murmured into your lips. You glanced into the mirror and found him already staring at your beautifully twisted body. You whimpered instantly, seeing the appeal. Your back was pressed to his bare chest, the hand cupping you from behind visible against the dusty blue silk, your back arching slightly off of him and pushing your tits forward, your hard nipples poking through the fabric, color flushing both of your faces, his plump lower lip still between yours. He whispered, “You’re so beautiful when you’re desperate for me, my love.”

“I’m not desperate yet, hun,” you whispered.

He chuckled. “The pink on those ears says otherwise, darling.” He traced your ear again.

You moaned and pushed your lips firmly against his, your tongues sliding together. He brought his hand up from his waist and squeezed one of your tits. You whimpered into his mouth and he grinned. He kneaded your breast over your slip and began stroking you through your panties again. Something about having him so close but not really touching you was making you crazy. You writhed against him, bucking your hips with need, moaning into his mouth.

“You’re so wet for me, so needy even through these panties,” he murmured. “You horny little thing…”

Astarion wasn’t keeping his composure, either. He panted into your mouth, his erection pressing into your back through his boxers. Every so often, his hips stuttered against yours; you knew it wasn’t intentional. He groaned into your mouth, finding your clit and stroking. You moaned happily, your body trembling in response.

“Oh, gods, darling—can I touch you? Can I really touch you?” he moaned. 

“Yes, please, fuck,” you whimpered.

Astarion moved quickly. He shoved your slip underneath your breasts, his hand gripping one and toying with your nipple. At the same time, he slid your panties to the side and stroked your slit with a single finger. You moaned in tandem. Astarion sunk a finger into you and began rubbing at your walls, pulling quiet whimpers from your lips. You threw your head back and he immediately began kissing his way down your neck and over your shoulder.

“That’s it, love,” he murmured against your skin, “just feel good for me… Just feel good and be beautiful. Look at you…”

The reverence in his voice made you glance in the mirror again and you understood his sudden attraction to the column of your neck. You leaned into him, sighing happily against his open-mouthed kisses. 

“Need you,” he murmured, nipping at your skin until fresh bruises began to appear, overlapping with the ones he’d sucked into your neck this morning. He tucked you against his body. “Need more of you.”

You turned in his arms, whining at the loss of his fingers inside of you but still enjoying the way he held you to his chest like you’d disappear if he let go of you. “You can have me, Asty.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Here? Against this mirror?” He pushed you against it, pushing your slip up to your waist. He rubbed his palm over your ass and gave you a soft, affectionate smack. “You do look rather gorgeous bent over the basin like this.”

You locked eyes with him in the mirror, holding yourself up on the marble basin’s rim. “You can take me however you’d like, honey. Just as long as you finish inside me.”

Astarion grinned at you through the mirror. “Oh, darling, I intend to.” He kissed your shoulder. “As many times as I can.”

You moaned and pushed your ass against his erection. “Asty, please!”

“Patience,” he cooed softly, but he still slipped one finger under the waistband of your panties. He slowly pulled them to the side again to expose your cunt to him. Cool air hit you and the string of arousal still connected to your panties. You shivered, whimpering slightly.

Astarion stepped away from you for a moment, admiring the mess you were making between your legs. “Gods, darling, you’re so fucking wet.”

“Just fuck me already,” you whined.

Through the mirror, you watched him scramble to yank his boxers down. As soon as his cock was free, he pushed the head against your entrance. He looked up at the mirror, watching your eyes roll back as he filled you. A soft moan escaped him as soon as he was fully seated inside of you. He bent over your back and kissed your pointed ear. 

“Does that feel good, darling?” he murmured. Your entire body shuddered beneath him, your walls clenching around him. He made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a moan. “Guess it does.”

Astarion wrapped his arms around you and began thrusting slowly. He buried his head in your neck, moaning into you. You panted heavily, whimpering with every slow, deep thrust. You grabbed one of his hands and laced your fingers together, moving to meet his thrusts. 

“I love you like this, darling,” he murmured. “This position… You feel so tight around me.” He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. He met your gaze in the mirror and smiled at you, a sweet smile that made your heart melt. You turned just enough to kiss his cheek; he adjusted to catch your lips with his. He moaned into the kiss, one hand snaking up to grope your chest. You whined, pushing your breast into his hand and your ass into his pelvis. 

“Honey,” you moaned, the arms holding you up beginning to shake. 

He nibbled briefly on your ear. “Do you want more, my love?”

You whined and nodded. He let his other hand slip from your waist and to your clit. He began rubbing gently, adding pressure with every swipe. You moaned breathily, your legs beginning to tremble.

“Astarion,” you moaned, clinging to him. “I love you.”

He kissed the back of your neck. “I love you, too, darling.”

The words became a mantra falling out of your mouth, timed with every single one of his thrusts: “Love you love you love you love you love you love you love you!”

Astarion whispered into your ear, “You’re so close. Cum for me, darling. Cum on my cock. I’ll…I’ll follow you.”

You whined, surrendering to the feeling of his hand on your clit and his cock hitting all the right spots. With a few more thrusts, your moans grew louder, your breaths shorter, and your entire body shook as your walls clenched around his cock. You unraveled around him, crying his name loudly.

Astarion groaned and buried himself deep inside of you, biting his lower lip as he came inside of you, panting. He rubbed your clit until you cried out, overstimulated.

The two of you panted when your orgasms had run their course; he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly, both of you still bent over the basin. You locked eyes in the mirror.

“Are you alright?” he whispered. 

You nodded. “Are you?”

“I’m perfect,” he murmured, kissing the side of your neck. “Gods… You have no idea how good that felt, darling. Inside of you. Hells, I… I want to do it again.”

“I told you that you could,” you reminded him and he grinned.

“Bed?” he suggested. When you nodded, he pulled himself off of you and slowly pulled out. Your mixed releases slid down your legs and you groaned in surprise and discomfort. Your slip fell back into place as you stood straighter, your legs trembling even more. 

Astarion offered you his hand. “Come here, my love. Let me help you.”

You let him hold you up as the pair of you went to bed, already kissing and giggling again like teenagers. He gently laid you down in bed and crawled over you. He covered your neck and chest in kisses, once again tugging the neckline of your slip down to kiss your tits. He licked your nipple and then sucked on it gently, once again sliding his hand between your legs and rubbing his fingers along your soaked slit.

You curled your fingers into his hair, pulling him back up to you and kissing him heartily. “My turn,” you whispered into his mouth. You wrapped your legs around his hips and flipped the two of you. You straddled his thighs and pulled your slip off over your head.

Astarion grinned, putting his hands on your ribs. “Darling! Aren’t you gorgeous? I could get used to this view.”

You smiled, reaching down to pump his cock. He moaned. “This view belongs to you, Asty, don’t you forget that,” you said. “I’m all yours.”

His hands dropped to your hips as you lifted yourself up and shuffled forward, positioning yourself over his hard cock. He moaned happily as you sank down on him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he threw his head back. 

You moaned, putting your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. You began to bounce on him, letting him sink deeper every time you came back down until you were sitting on his pelvis. You began to roll your hips slowly and Astarion moaned loudly, his fingers gripping your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises come morning. 

“Oh, honey,” you moaned. “You feel…so damn good.”

He helped you ride him, guiding your hips with gentle hands. He twitched inside of you, his heaving breaths becoming soft, barely concealed whimpers. You smiled as you bounced on him and leaned back to give him a better view as he slid in and out of you.

“You look so beautiful with me inside of you, darling,” he moaned. He grazed his thumb over the bulge of him visible in your stomach. “Gods, look at that…”

“Honey,” you moaned. “Asty. Asty, I’m so damn close already!”

He chuckled. “I can feel it, my love, I can feel that pussy clenching around me. Just cum for me, I want it.”

You huffed in protest. “Not until you do.”

“Darling—”

“I’m taking care of you,” you insisted. “Let me do that for you, Asty. Cum for me, and I’ll cum for you.”

His face softened. “You’re perfect, you know,” he whispered, lifting his knees up to give you something to rest against as you bounced. He held your hip with one hand, then held your hand with the other. His eyelids fluttered, torn between wanting to close them and wanting to watch you, and he let himself relax against the bed.

You brought one hand from his shoulder to his cheek. You caressed his cheekbone softly. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” you murmured, the first of many sweet nothings to encourage him along. “You’re so pretty when you let yourself get lost in me, when you let the pleasure wash over you. Just do that for me, honey, just let go and take what you need from me. Relax here in bed with me, handsome. Finish up, I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’ll help you ride it out. I love you, more than anything in this world. I love you.”

Astarion threw his head back with a loud cry, his hips stuttering up into yours. He came hard, the warmth of him filling your cunt until he began to leak out of you. You sat on his pelvis and reached a hand down to your clit to finish yourself off. Despite his deliriousness and the tears sliding down his cheeks from the force of his orgasm, he slapped your hand away and put his own thumb to your clit until you convulsed on top of him and came on his cock.

The moment he could, he pulled you off of him and into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace and covering your entire upper body with kisses, murmuring an “I love you” between each one. You let yourself melt into his hold, cuddling into him and relaxing even more with every kiss. 

You eventually wriggled around until you were laying next to each other, still staring into each other’s eyes. You brushed your hand through his curls, putting them back into place with your fingers. 

“Hi,” you whispered. “Feel okay?”

He smiled at you. “Never better, darling. That was…amazing. Thank you for that.”

You kissed his cheek. “Well, I figured it had been a while since I’ve gone for a proper ride on you—it was long overdue, and I thought we’d both appreciate it.”

“You thought correctly,” he murmured. He tackled you in a tight, warm hug. You hummed happily, curling your arms around him and wrapping your legs into his until you were as close as you could get to becoming one. You slowly worked your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp until he began to very nearly purr. He rubbed your back, occasionally pressing dainty kisses to your forehead, and you returned each kiss with one of your own. Eventually, he pulled back and asked, “Are you up for one more round?”

You grinned at him. “Absolutely, hun. I thought you might have more in you than you were letting on.”

He blushed like he hadn’t just cum inside you twice. “I could have gone without it if you didn’t want to!”

You giggle and drag your finger up the underside of his already semi-hard cock. His eyes rolled back into his head and his entire body shuddered. “Oh, really?” 

Astarion whined, the sound not quite human. His chest heaved. “Darling… Gods, that feels good.”

You kissed his nose. “Wanna know what else I haven’t done in a while?” You pushed your lips against his as he nodded, muffling his hum. Into his mouth, you murmured, “Sucked you off.”

Astarion groaned. You took advantage of his open mouth and pushed your tongue into his mouth. You rolled him onto his back again and crawled on top of him, never once breaking the wet, sloppy kiss. You wrapped your hand around his cock as you kissed him and pumped him idly, careful not to set a pace and let him get used to your touch. He whimpered into your mouth, his cock twitching into your hand every time you slid your hand up to his tip. Only when he was hard enough that you knew it was starting to be unbearable did you break the kiss. He whined but let you shimmy your way down his body until you sat between his spread legs.

“May I?” you asked, locking eyes with him as you settled, your face inches away from his leaking cock. You let yourself admire the view of his heaving chest, his entire body flushed with need, his dick red and angry and oh so tempting.

“Y-yes, please,” he whispered, gorgeous with his hair tousled from your hands, his ears pink, his lips kiss-bitten, and his pupils blown.

“Thank you, Asty,” you whispered, pressing your lips to the skin of his V-line. You kept kissing just around his cock, never quite reaching the base, until he twitched and pre-cum began to dribble down his length without you even touching him. Only then did you take mercy, licking him from the base up to his tip and taking his head into your mouth. He keened loudly, arching off the bed like he so often made you do. 

Seeing your lover get so lost in everything you were doing and enjoying every second of it made your entire body warm with joy and arousal. The wetness between your legs was obscene for having not been touched or teased for so long, but you weren’t surprised; Astarion enjoying himself was more than enough reason for you to be as excited as you were. His ecstasy was always so godsdamned beautiful—not unusual for an elf, of course, but you liked to think your fiancé was special in this aspect. 

You took him deeper, licking the underside of his cock as best as you could as his girth filled your mouth. He whined and bucked his hips involuntarily.

“S-sorry,” he moaned, throwing his arm over his eyes, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You popped off of him for a moment and took his hand. “Don’t be sorry, my love. Take it. Take what you want. I’m here to give it to you, hun.”

He whined again and thrust his hips back up, simultaneously trying to wiggle closer to you. You giggled and took the hint, taking him back in your mouth and sucking. He stayed still for a few more moments, letting you please him, but then you felt his hand in your hair and you paused in your movements. He started to thrust slowly into your mouth, not deep or hard enough for you to choke but enough for you to really feel him in your throat. You moaned around him with every thrust until he became more frantic.

“Darling!” he cried. You glanced up to find silver tears on his flushed cheeks and pulled back, seeing the overstimulation on his face. “Please, my love, I need— I need to fuck you again. I need to be inside you.”

Without a second thought, you sat up and caught your breath from where you sat between his legs. He took a second before sitting up and pulling you on top of him. He pushed inside of you easily and chuckled breathlessly.

“Someone’s wet,” he teased. You didn’t have the energy in you to respond as he started thrusting. You went limp in his arms, collapsing onto his chest and focusing only on the feeling of him pumping in and out of you. He held you tight, both of you clinging to each other as you chased your releases.

Astarion adjusted his legs slightly, lifting himself up, and his cock hit just the right spot. You cried out and clenched around him, your hold on him tightening. He growled animalistically, pulled out of you, and flipped you onto your back. He folded one of your legs up and slid back inside of you.

You screamed so loud you were sure you had woken his parents—and perhaps the entire neighborhood—as he began pounding into you relentlessly. You could already tell you were going to struggle with walking tomorrow. 

Between pants, he asked, “Are you okay? Is this okay?”

You were out of breath to even attempt to speak, but you nodded and brought him close enough to kiss you. He took control of the kiss almost immediately, possessing you in every way he could: his cock in your cunt, his tongue in your mouth, his hand gripping your calf. You gave into him, letting him take you, relaxing against the mattress and trusting him with your body. 

Astarion took care of you, going only as rough as your body could take at this moment, taking his pleasure but granting you yours simultaneously. Your orgasm swept through you with a vengeance, powerful and hard. You arched your back, screaming as much of his name as you could get out before you ran out of breath, your fingernails digging into his back. Astarion let out a high moan as he followed you before you could ride out the rest of your orgasm. The two of you grabbed at each other, clinging desperately, panting and moaning and crying with pleasure. You felt tears on your cheeks and you honestly weren’t sure if they were yours or Astarion’s. 

At last, you came down from your high. You watched him in awe as he finished his, slowly and gently thrusting into you until he was spent. He gently lowered himself on top of you and buried his face in your neck. You laid there, panting, struggling to form thoughts.

“Holy shit,” he muttered into your skin and you chuckled. Your arm shook as you brought your hand to the back of his hand and soothed him with a hand in his curls. 

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Holy shit.”

He looked up. There was a glassy look in his eyes. “Are you…are you okay? Did I go too hard? Was that too much?”

“I’m fine, hun. You were perfect. Gods, that was…” You whistled, unable to pick a word from your dazed mind to describe what you were feeling. 

Astarion giggled. “Yeah… It was.” He snuggled back against your chest, then asked in a whisper, “Can I stay inside you tonight?”

You raised a brow. “Do you want to?”

He shrugged. “If you’ll let me…yes.”

You kissed his forehead. “Sure. Let’s try it, see if we like it.”

Astarion perked up immediately. “Really?”

“Yes, why not? Here—pull out and let’s get cleaned up, then you can spoon me and go back inside, okay?”

He nodded quickly. You cleaned each other in the washroom, Astarion holding you up to keep you from falling on weak knees. He stole kisses as you washed each other and then tucked you back into bed.

“Do you want your slip?” he asked, climbing into bed behind you.

“No, just you,” you whispered. You heard his soft laugh and knew how pleased he was that you wanted his body directly against yours.

Astarion curled up behind you and lifted your leg with a gentle hand. With only the slightest bit of difficulty, he pushed himself back into you. He gave a few gentle thrusts, then settled and pulled you close and buried his nose in your hair.

You sighed happily. “You feel good,” you told him. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He kissed the back of your neck. “Good, I’m glad.” He rubbed your side with a gentle hand. “Tell me if it starts to get uncomfortable.”

You nodded. “Think I’m gonna fall asleep before that, actually…”

Astarion laughed softly. “Alright, love. Go to sleep. I’ve got you.”

Humming, you leaned back against him and let sleep take you with him still inside of you and wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

~❊~

Astarion was late.

He should have been home at least an hour ago—but you knew how long these court cases could take. There had been days before where he didn’t return home until after dark. You always hated those days, but he repaid you with lots of kisses and snuggles and a surprise date later in the week when he came home early. 

You were getting ready for work in your shared bedroom, finishing up braiding your hair in the mirror Astarion had fucked you against last night. Your core still ached, but your limp had mostly disappeared. You could always fabricate a story for your boss about twisting your ankle or something equally mundane—anything less embarrassing than having to admit your fiancé had fucked you within an inch of your life. 

You tucked the last few strands into place and checked your makeup one last time, making sure your very, very dark hickeys were covered. Unlike Astarion, who had left for work with one easily spotted above his collar, you would rather your coworkers didn’t ask questions about your sex life. 

Downstairs, the door opened. Astarion! You silently thanked the gods that you would see him before you left for your shift at the tavern. You heard low, murmuring voices and had the impression that the day had been a long, tiresome one. You’d give him a long hug before you left, even if he didn’t want to let go and it made you late. 

Selwynn screamed. Plates crashed. 

You were running down the stairs faster than you thought possible. You slammed into the door jamb on your way into the kitchen and found Thesan standing stock-still and dumbfounded in the middle of the kitchen, Selwynn on the floor and surrounded by shards of ceramic. She was sobbing. There were two unfamiliar men in the uniform of Baldur’s Gate officials standing in the doorway, somber.

“What happened?” you demanded. “Where’s Astarion?”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” said one of the men, taking off his hat. “I take it you are Astarion Ancunin’s fiancée?”

Knots formed in your stomach. “I— Yes, I am. What…what’s happened? Where is he?”

“I’m sorry, he…” He gained control of the sudden sorrow that crossed his features. “I regret to inform you that Astarion was found dead. Murdered, in fact.”

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel @cheeslyy @ofmyth-andmagicart @neetheslayer @whispering-depths @freesidexjunkie @lightsinmycity @the0ldmann @gobbodoggo @oooof-ifellforyou @beeblisss @fangboner @aquaarietes @fiercest-eigengrau-skies @niqhtfell @call-me-nyxx @lueji-m @ceres-xiv @tricksy-trinity @graynstairs @rosa-rubus @ynisthatyou @thegoodwitchs-blog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @kiyastrf94 @vincemachina @silverfangmarks @ravenswritingroom @hinata7346 @hellethil @caramel-hufflepuff @beemiilk @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic

[igotsnothing]

Daaaang! Lest I forget how hot Lawrence is.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

i'm really of two minds when it comes to ofmd 2x04... on the one hand, i absolutely love it. my favorite episode of season 2, maybe even of the show. every beat is perfect, every character is perfect, there's no plotline i'm ever bored with. and as a conclusion to the breakup plotline beginning in 1x09, it's perfect.

.... almost.

i really am so conflicted! i love the episode so much. i remember watching for the first time and thinking oh, they're gonna be fine at the "buttons turned into a seagull!" line. i love how quickly everything becomes okay between ed and stede, because they just are with each other... but at the same time, i remember being a little disappointed that this was all that came of the breakup storyline.

you might argue that the first three episodes of season 2 add quite a lot to that storyline, and you wouldn't be wrong at all, but the way i see it, those first three episodes are more about the consequences of 1x10, and izzy threatening ed until he took up the blackbeard mantle again. stede leaving absolutely plays a role, but i feel like if izzy hadn't threatened ed, the fallout of the breakup would be VERY different. i was so on edge for 2x04 bc i was here for the REUNION. i wanted to know what they'd say, how stede would explain himself... i remember being rly sad when the opening scene cut after the headbutt (which makes complete sense after thinking on it, but at the time i was bummed), and then again in the parlor scene when stede never explains WHY he left that night. i love how easily things get back to normal, but i also love the drama!!! ed snippily pretending he's fine while peppering in little comments; anne meddling, and stede being way more concerned about it than ed is; anne telling ed that stede left him for mary; the PARLOR SCENE. having that back and forth feels cathartic in my mind. and i may just feel with this way bc i sat with that horrible/amazing cliffhanger for over a year, building up the inevitable reunion in my head. i think i was just expecting more. i could've watched like three straight episodes of their Ex Era.

and this isn't necessarily a criticism of the writers!! i DO love 2x04. and i think there's a lot of reasons the messy parts didn't get drawn out. budget cuts, two less episodes than last year. my biggest complaint was stede not mentioning the chauncey thing, but a part of me also kind of likes it -- bc season 2 was ed's season, and i'm guessing part of the reason stede never said is because he didn't want to put the burden of his trauma on ed when ed was already going through so much. honestly, part of my frustration with this plotline might just come with building up that cliffhanger in my mind for a year, reading all these fics and imagining it in all these different ways... and it's not as if the breakup trauma isn't littered throughout the season. it's absolutely part of the reason ed leaves in 2x07. and part of me really feels like we might come back to all this stuff that's been left unspoken between them, PARTICULARLY stede being abducted -- this show feels too deliberate to never tell ed that's what happened.

i hope we'll get more of this addressed in season 3! and if we don't, i guess a part of me will always be a little bummed that we never got back to it. but no matter what happens... i still do love what we got. love it to the point that criticizing it feels kinda insane! i guess that's a testament to the quality of ofmd: even the frustrating parts aren't all that frustrating.

[ian-galagher]

Chapter 03 - RUN!

Length: 11k / total length: 45k

Rating: Explicit

Chapter summary: The boys are heading into a different direction today and Ian earns himself a rather peculiar nickname...

Summary: When Ian lands himself an internship with famous wildlife photographer Mickey Milkovich he can't believe his luck. Spending one month traveling through South Africa with his big hero is a dream come true. The two are off on a wild adventure but there's something mysterious about Mickey who seems to be holding more to his chest than just the tricks of the trade Ian had hoped to learn from him.

Click here to read chapter 03 or here to start from the beginning!

[redwing4life]

Home Cooked Meal

CHAPTER 4 | ASHES TO EMBERS

can be read as a stand alone :)

PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!

SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.

WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

Call me when you get home x

Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.

It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.

Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.

He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.

You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.

“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.

“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”

The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.

Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.

“What are you doing right now?”

Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“

“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”

“What, now? What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”

And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.

Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.

Even Alps is confused.

Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.

Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.

He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.

She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.

With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.

Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.

Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.

He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.

Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.

It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.

Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.

“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.

“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.

“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”

Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.

Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.

When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.

“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.

Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.

“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.

“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”

You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“

Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.

“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”

Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.

“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.

“Well-“

The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.

“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“

“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.

Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.

“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.

“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”

If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.

Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”

You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”

With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.

Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.

“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.

He notices.

“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”

Fuck. Me.

You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.

“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.

You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.

Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.

“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.

You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”

Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.

With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.

Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.

“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.

“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”

“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”

You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.

Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.

It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.

Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.

Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.

Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.

“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.

“What are you trying to say there, doll?”

Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.

“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”

The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…

Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”

The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.

“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”

Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.

He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.

Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.

“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”

You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.

“You what?”

Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”

The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.

“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”

“Huh.”

Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.

“James, what are you doing?” You ask.

“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.

Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.

From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.

It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.

“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?

The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.

“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.

“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”

A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.

“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.

In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”

You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”

With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.

Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.

“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.

You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”

He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”

Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.

Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.

“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.

That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.

Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.

“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.

A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.

“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.

Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”

“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.

“Teach me.”

Huh?

“What?” You freeze.

“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”

You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.

Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.

“Okay.”

It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.

With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.

Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.

From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.

It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.

The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.

“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.

When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.

You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”

A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”

You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.

Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.

Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.

He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.

It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.

“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.

It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.

“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.

“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.

Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.

“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.

“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.

Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.

A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.

Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.

Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.

“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.

Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”

Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.

You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.

Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”

Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”

“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“

With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.

“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.

“Why?” You ask, heart racing.

It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.

Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”

A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.

Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.

“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.

Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”

That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.

Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.

You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.

Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”

“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.

“Then let me make up for lost time.”

“Wait, what do y-“

Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.

Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.

It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.

“No.”

Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.

“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.

You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.

“I promise.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”

A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.

A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.

“Bucky, please…”

“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”

You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.

“Look at me, Y/n.”

The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.

“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”

The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.

Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.

He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.

“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.

“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”

You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.

Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.

“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”

“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”

“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”

Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.

The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.

“James- oh fuck-“

Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”

You mewl and squirm beneath him.

“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”

Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.

You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.

“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.

“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.

Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”

An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.

He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.

The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.

“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.

You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.

With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.

“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“

“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”

You nod feverishly.

“Good girl, now let go for me.”

That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.

“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.

“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.

Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.

“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”

You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”

“Every night, doll.”

“Huh…”

Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.

“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.

“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.

You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.

After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”

What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.

He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.

His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.

“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.

“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”

You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.

“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”

Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.

“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”

“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.

“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”

You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.

“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.

“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.

He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”

You whine.

“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”

His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.

The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.

“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”

You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.

“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”

You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.

“I wanna see you, Bucky…”

He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.

You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.

“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.

Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.

He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.

“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”

Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.

You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.

Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.

“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”

You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.

“More than anything.”

And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.

You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.

“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.

“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”

You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.

“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.

He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.

“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”

His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.

You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.

Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.

Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.

“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.

“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.

You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.

With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.

As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.

“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“

You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.

“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.

“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”

You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.

“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…” You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.

“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”

You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.

“How about now?”

There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.

“No!” You giggle.

“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.

“James! You’re squishing me!”

The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.

Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.

“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.

Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.

“I need you inside me.”

His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.

The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”

After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.

Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.

You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”

You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”

“So what?”

Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.

A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.

“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”

His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”

He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”

His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.

“Shit, honey, say it again.”

“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.

“Again.” Your neighbour growls.

“Oh my god, fuck- I”

“Again.”

It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

“That’s my girl.”

Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.

“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”

You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.

“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”

“Harder, Jamie.”

Goddamn.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”

You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.

“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”

“Ah- just like that, baby.”

“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”

Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.

“Jamie…” You sigh.

He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.

The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.

“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”

He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.

“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”

“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.

“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”

Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.

“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“

He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.

“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”

You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.

“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”

“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.

“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”

Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.

“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”

As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.

With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.

“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.

You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.

“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”

“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”

You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.

“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.

Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”

You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.

“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.

“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”

He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.

“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.

He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.

When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”

You smile, “Your shirt?”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“

He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

“Of course, doll.”

Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”

a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️

comment if you’d like to be added to the ashes to embers taglist 🧡

taglist: @armystay89 @rabbitrabbit12321 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @harrystylesandthegoobs @zannemes @noonespecial90 @m3ntally-unstable @blackbirdwitch22 @wintrsoldrluvr @pingpongfingfong @belleofthebooks @larienjenova @chaosbarelycontained @mostlymarvelgirl @trustworthy-jellyfish @ozwriterchick @nervousnerdwitch @suz7days @bethexo07 @ace-27749 @bellabarnes1378 @angelbabyyy99 @selella @itvy5601 @noonespecial90 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @ordelixx @krispybearbouquet @matchat3a @cl7ire @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @julvrs @anghstybean @eah-marvel-trolls @pono-pura-vida @touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Book 1

SUMMARY:

Going from one werewolf pack to another. There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation is now replaced with something less sinister. Can Y/N learn to trust another group of werewolves?

Warnings:

This fanfiction may include distressing themes so please read with caution. MDNI All rights belong to the author. I own the created characters and plots to make this fanfiction. The themes DO NOT REPRESENT the real people. It is a dark romance themed fanfic!

⚠️ Omegaverse, A/B/O, Marking, Biting, Mating, Blood play, Mentions of Assault, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Torture, VERY SMUTTY, Misogyny, Anxiety, Depression, Angst, Fluff, M/M/F, Possessive SKZ, Cursing, Pet Names, Humiliation, Kinks, Gaslighting, Sexism, Dom/Sub dynamics, Threesome, Foreplay, Begging ⚠️

💫🐺🌙

Before starting I would like to give a MASSIVE SHOUT OUT to these amazing works of art. These people's works inspired me to write my own A/B/O. So please also check their works out.

@ot8xbangchansgirlsblog The heart of the pack 12/10!!!! An addictive read. It was also the first ever A/B/O I encountered, but I love how pure it is and the romantic mxm involvement! And Idol SKZ!!! PLEASE JUST READ IT!!!!!

@doitforbangchan All Bark and No Bite 12/10!! The SMUT blew my mind. The dynamics between the reader and Straykids were incredible. Overall iconic and is a MUST read.

@last-words-ofashootingstar Allure 12/10!!! Made me feel a certain type of way. Felt like a sinner for reading it. Absolutely loved Seonghwa being a menace. Another definite read!!

@felixsramen Yours Truly 12/10!!!! Love poly stray kids with fem reader. Its such a wholesome read and I love love love it!!! Please read it!!! (Not A/B/O related but needs to be recognised)

@jakeys-layla Fanfiction Recommendations 12/10!!!! Has all the recommendations for you From A/B/O to historical and royalty fanfictions. Her account is a lifesaver and she's still recommending.

MASTERLIST

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11 ⚠️💦

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15 ⚠️💦

Chapter 16 ⚠️❗

Chapter 17 ⚠️‼️

Chapter 18 ⚠️‼️

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21 ⚠️💦

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24 ⚠️

Chapter 25 ⚠️

Book 2 is here.

Feeling Inspired by my fanfiction. Go ahead and write your own. Any ideas, concepts or themes used please credit me accordingly© If you are unsure message me, I definitely do not bite 💙

[aceyalonso]

sera's kinktober masterlist 2024

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 : 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

how? send an ask, pairing a driver with the available day! ↳ example: "hi! can I request [driver] + [day #___]?"

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

✮ the posting schedule will be from october to november. i was unable to write as much as i wanted to for this because of familial matters i can’t discuss, i hope you guys understand! 🥲

✮ AHHH!! my first kinktober ever, so please don't be too harsh :,) ✮ please note that some of these works/chapters contain content and kinks that might not be your cup of tea, please do not click on something that you're not comfortable with ✮ i will only write a maximum of 4 fics for each driver (so that there won't be too many of each driver) ✮ this list will be a mix of full fics and drabbles. ✮ some of the days here already have drivers assigned, but rest assured majority of these are up for grabs!

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭!

what days are available? ↳ i will remove the days that have already been taken. ✮ day 3 - biting (requested by anon) ✮ day 9 - lap dance (requested by anon) ✮ day 11 - temperature play (requested by anon) ✮ day 12 - mutual masturbation (requested by anon) ✮ day 13 - deepthroating (requested by anon) ✮ day 15 - begging (requested by anon) ✮ day 17 - dacryphilia (requested by anon) ✮ day 19 - bondage (requested by anon) ✮ day 20 - ass worship (requested by @cleopatrick-123) ✮ day 21 - breeding (requested by anon) ✮ day 22 - orgasm denial (requested by anon) ✮ day 23 - overstimulation (requested by @nandolonso) ✮ day 24 - voyeurism (requested by anon) ✮ day 25 - nipple play (requested by @bad268) ✮ day 26 - wax play (requested by anon) ✮ day 28 - public sex (requested by @menagerofmischief) ✮ day 29 - hair pulling (requested by @nepobbylver)

day 1 (october 1st) - humiliation kink with sebastian vettel | "don't cover your mouth, let them hear it liebling."

synopsis - sebastian rewarding his ever so hard-working secretary

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 2 (october 3rd) - threesome with lando norris & oscar piastri | "look osc, she's taking it so well"

synopsis - what happens when lando catches y/n and oscar in a rather... compromising position?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 3 (october 5th) - biting with oscar piastri | “jesus fuck, are you are a vampire or something?”

synopsis - biting has weirdly always been a part of y/n's love language, what happens when she bites oscar where he's a little bit more than just sensitive?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 4 (october 7th) - overstimulation with lando norris | "be a good girl f'me, i know you can take another round"

synopsis - win celebrations look a little different for lando norris this time around

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 5 (october 9th) - jealous sex with oscar piastri | "i don't have to be inside you to make you feel good."

synopsis - oscar and his jealous tendencies can lead to some... eventful consequences

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 6 (october 11th) - daddy kink with jenson button | "spread your legs for daddy, i wanna see you"

synopsis - art and money have always been the two constants in y/n's life, what happens when those two constants result in a sugar daddy who happens to own an art gallery?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 7 (october 13th) - hate fucking with lance stroll | "this is what you wanted, isn't it? to prove you're better than me?"

synopsis - the fashion industry has always been a dog-eat-dog world or a rival-fuck-rival world (for lance and y/n, at least)

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 8 (october 15th) - sensory deprivation with fernando alonso | "don’t argue mi princesa, just put the blindfold on.”

synopsis - fernando always loved the way silk looked on y/n he loved how it hugged her figure, he loved how it would make her look like a goddess, whether it was the dress he bought for her or her wearing nothing the silk blindfold

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 9 (october 17th) - lap dance with daniel ricciardo | “fuck, keep moving like that and i’ll bend you over the bar.”

synopsis - what happens when y/n does a simple dance routine that turns into something dirtier?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 10 (october 19th) - mirror sex with george russell | "look at yourself, so gorgeous."

synopsis - ever since y/n and george started spending some weekends on the boat, she has always wondered why he needed to have a mirror on the wall and on the ceiling of the bedroom

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 11 (october 21st) - temperature play with kimi raikkonen | “didn’t i tell you to stay still?”

synopsis - y/n knew that marrying the so-called "iceman" of formula 1 certainly has its hot and cold times, especially when it's kimi using ice cubes in the bedroom

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 12 (october 23rd) - mutual masturbation with charles leclerc | "show me how you like it, i want to see you squirm."

synopsis - who knew that watching 50 shades of grey with your best friend could end so well?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 13 (october 25th) - deepthroat with max verstappen | “you look so pathetic like this.”

synopsis - max can't seem to escape the norris' after that terrible race in Austria. The only difference? Y/n was actually worth Max's time (and stamina)

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 14 (october 27th) - tattoos with lewis hamilton | "i didn't know you got a spine tattoo."

synopsis - a little rain never hurt anyone... not until lewis almost breaks y/n's back (in a good way)

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 15 (october 29th) - begging with charles leclerc | "you look so adorable like this, begging for me."

synopsis - a bad day at work and a good fiance would and will always end well

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 16 (october 31st) - lingerie with carlos sainz | "turn around, for me hermosa? i want to see the back again."

synopsis - spending 23 grand on a shopping spree? that's something only y/n can do, but of course the money spent will always be worth it, especially when she gets something that can benefit her and carlos

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 17 (november 2nd) - dacryphilia with ollie bearman | “you’re so pretty with tears in your eyes.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 18 (november 4th) - spanking with charles leclerc | "feel that? that's for flirting with fucking team mate."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 19 (november 6th) - bondage with lewis hamilton | "look at you, all helpless and desperate."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 20 (november 8th) - ass worship with logan sargeant | “babe, just sit on my face oh my god.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 21 (november 10th) - breeding with logan sargeant | "i'm going to fill you up so well baby"

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 22 (november 12th) - orgasm denial with sebastian vettel | “you won’t be cumming, not unless i tell you to.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 23 (november 14th) - edging with fernando alonso | "you can't handle this, can you?"

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 24 (november 16th) - voyeurism with oscar piastri | “don’t let my presence stop you, keep going.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 25 (november 18th) - nipple play with ollie bearman | “what’s that poking through your shirt?”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 26 (november 20th) - wax play with charles leclerc | "close your eyes and let me take control, mon cheri. i'll decide where the wax goes."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 27 (november 22nd) - size difference with ollie bearman | "i want you to feel every vein and every inch of my cock."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 28 (november 24th) - public sex with oscar piastri | “are you crazy? what if we get caught?”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 29 (november 26th) - hair pulling with carlos sainz | "you like that don't you?"

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 30 (november 28th) - food play with lewis hamilton | "you taste so fucking sweet baby."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 31 (november 30th) - oral fixation with daniel ricciardo | "suck on it, show me how much you want it."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[peacheeeliz]

COMMUNITY

SYNOPSIS ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?

PARING ⤏ nonidol!mark x nonidol!fem reader

GENRE ⤏ smau, written, rom-com, fluff, college au, slowburn, mark is so down bad, but so is y/n eventually

FEATURING ⤏ mark, donghyuck, jaehyun, jungwoo, and johnny from nct 127, julie from kiof, kim jiwoong from zb1, minnie from idle, and allen from cravity (+ mentions of a TON of other idols)

FACECLAIM ⤏ faceclaim for y/n purely for picture purposes!! (@ 0ki0h on ig)

WARNINGS ⤏ swearing, sexual and kys/kms jokes, pls ignore timestamps 💔, mentions of jaehyun being a stoner, a bit of bullying, more to come

PLAYLIST ⤏ at least it was here, the 88 | 200, mark | red wine supernova, chappell roan | i wanna be yours, artic monkeys | dandelion, jaehyun | just for me, pinkpantheress | snap out of it, artic monkeys | urs, niki | right here, keshi | falling in love, cigarettes after sex

STARTED ⤏ 9/21/2024

STATUS ⤏ complete ♡

NOTE ⤏ community is literally my favorite sitcom, so when their tiktoks started popping up on my fyp, i couldn't resist making a smau inspired by it 🥴

PROFILES & CHAPTERS

STUDY GROUP | MEAN GORLS | BIBLE STUDY

prologue. try it bite it lick it spit it

episode 1. community

001. i could literally kiss u

002. i love ur brother too (469 wc)

003. they're not soundproof (1046 wc)

004. what the fuck am i chopped liver (653 wc)

episode 2. fundamentals of accounting

005. seize the day

006. DAY SEIZED (821 wc)

episode 3. psychology of personality

007. the apple of my eye

008. thanks soso much

009. alpha i need you......

episode 4. problems in history

010. WHY NTO

011. GYATT DAMN

012. u told me u kissed him

013. she's so crazzzzzzzy

episode 5. self defense & combatives

014. hyuck :((

015. old barbie movies??

016. friday. three o'clock. right here. (539 wc)

017. the what on friday?

018. beat his ass mark (1039 wc)

episode 6. heating laboratory

019. concrete jungle

020. love at frost sight

021. OHHHH WHAT THE FUCK

episode 7. survey of characteristics

022. FREAKISHLY YOUNG??

023. except ur both stupid

024. (not stupid ☝️)

episode 8. intro to media communication

025. uu feel lile home

026. i wish i waa qith u

027. why does my heart still feel heavy

episode 9. critical thinking

028. we need to talk

029. am i stupid (639 wc)

030. snap out of it

031. my favorite study buddy

episode 10. team sports

032. fuckass burger

033. i gotta piss (1107 wc)

034. zombie by the cranberries (1497 wc)

035. my jellies are tingling... (1073 wc)

036. these kids are so weird,,, (1474 wc)

episode 11. human relations

037. stupid ass friends

038. FYM SADLY??

039. i love you man (1925 wc)

040. meet me at the apateu, apateu

041. my favorite part of the year 🩷

☆©peacheeeliz, 2024

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is closed!

[luvsfics]

WHAT THEY DON’T KNOW — house of the dragon

Davos Blackwood x Bracken!Reader

[ forbidden love, sex content, oral sex, semi-outdoor sex ]

Description: The long-going feud between house’s Blackwood and Bracken won’t stop her from loving the man her heart desires, even if he is on the other side of the dispute.

Authors note: he might not be benjicot Blackwood but he’s still my man. And yes, I’m doing this instead of writing chapter 4 of serendipity…

The young lady Bracken sighed as her brothers messed around the field, a little too close to the barrier stones that separated the lands of house Blackwood and Bracken.

“Can you even get that thing up?” One of the brothers laughed. Aeron pulled the hilt of his sword from his belt, “Well enough for killing Blackwood’s” he smirked.

She only rolled her eyes, weaving daisies together to make a crown, bored of her brothers yet not enough to stay inside with her family back home.

She missed her lover. Though, she could never say it out loud, for she would be cast aside by her own family, she was in love with a Blackwood, and he loved her too.

“Bracken!” A familiar voice shouted. All of the yellow clothed siblings looked towards the men, a fluttering feeling filling her belly as she saw her lover stepping towards them.

“Put the boundary stones back.” Davos demanded.

“We didn’t move them.” Aeron said as he moved towards the Blackwoods. Davos scoffed, “Oh, did they move themselves then?”

“Just rolled their way over so Bracken cows can fill their bellies on Blackwood grass.” He continued.

Even when angry, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. She constantly had to bite back a smile whenever she was around her family when she thought about him or saw him.

“The assize of Riverrun-“ Aeron began, “fuck the assize, and fuck you.” Davos smugly said, annoyed at the Bracken man.

“This is our land.”

“It’s Bracken land.”

The Lady Bracken finally stood from her rock, smoothing out the sides of her dress, flower crown in hand. She slowly stepped towards her brother, Aeron.

He turned away from the Blackwood boy, walking away from the situation. The Bracken girl’s eyes never left her lovers and his gaze finally met hers, almost softening instantly.

“Babe-killer.” Aeron mumbled under his breath as he passed his sister.

“What did you say?” His head whipped towards the Bracken boy. Aeron sucked in a breath, stepping back in front of his sister in a way of protecting her.

“Your false queen, Rhaenyra, is a kinslayer.” She gulped at her brother’s words. She knew what her lover would think of this, she worried of his words that would come later that night when they saw each other.

He knew she never agreed with her family, yet he always had something to say.

“Your uncle declared for Aegon, did he?” Davos bit his tongue.

“Well then, let me tell you.” He said as he stepped towards the Bracken’s. “Aegon Targaryen is no true king…just as you are not true knight.” He got into the boys face.

“You’re both craven, little cunts!” He exclaimed as he pushed the man back. She gasped a quickly stepped out of the way, Aeron pulled out his sword, pointing it at the man before him.

“Aeron!” She shouted.

Davos began laughing, stepping towards the blade, “you wouldn’t dare!”

She quickly broke up the men, “stop this at once! It is merely stones, they can be put back!” She tried to explain.

“Sister-!”

“We will put them back.” She looked between the boys before settling her eyes on her secret lover. “They will be put back, I promise you.”

His gaze lightened, “they better be.” He said as he pulled away, commanding his brothers to follow him back home.

“Why would you do that?” Aeron asked.

“Would you rather die over stones?” She scoffed.

“Fuck-“ she gasped as her lover flicked his tongue over her swollen bud, one hand gripping his dark locks under her skirts and another gripping the wooden barrel beneath her.

The torch light of the empty stable, much far away from the homes of both lovers, shined against her pale skin. Her dress falling down her shoulders.

His tongue entered her dripping entrance. The moans that escaped her were loud and needy as she through her head back in pleasure.

“Davos, please- my love!” Her hips began grinding onto his face, chasing the pleasure he brought her.

His hands gripped onto the soft flesh of her thighs, eating her cunt as if it would be the last meal he would ever have.

The feeling of her peak blinded her, forcing her to see the light. Her noises were louder than ever before as he brought her to her high.

Her heart beat rapidly as she came down to earth, giggling at the bubbly feeling she felt expanding through her.

Her lover stood from her skirts, licking his lips of her essences. His smile was intoxicating, his hands found their way to her waist as he pulled her into him, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss as she jumped down with shaky legs to the ground.

“I love you-“ he mumbled into her mouth.

She pulled away from his lips with a smile on her face, “and I love you.” She pressed her forehead to his.

His hungry lips found hers again in a sensual kiss. He began yanking the dress down her shoulders and she reached to unlace the bodice.

The dress became undone and fell off her body, leaving her in a shift. The Bracken girl unpinned his cloak from his shoulders and slid it off, laying to on the ground below them.

She shrugged his undershirt off of his torso, her fingers finding their way to his breeches, unlacing the pants as they knelt down onto the cloak.

He threw off his breeches as she pulled her shift off of herself, revealing their bare bodies to each other.

He took her bare beauty in for a brief moment, truly not understanding how she could be apart of such a horrible family, yet be so perfect.

“My beautiful girl.” He smiled as he quickly tucked his head into her neck, bringing them to lay onto the cloak. She laughed at the feeling of his lips on her skin like a feather tickling her.

He leaned over her body, pressing a sweet kiss onto her smiling lips. His hands shifted her thighs up to rest on his hips.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

She nodded, taking his cheeks into her hands and gently pressing their heads together. Intimate moments like this, she cherished.

She gasped as his cock pushed against her entrance before sliding in gently. He bit his tongue at how tight she was, no matter how many times they did this, she was still so tight.

He began pumping into her tight, sopping cunt. His head fell into her neck with a groan, his hips not stopping their growing pace.

Her moans were music to his ears, conformation he was doing well.

“My love-“ she whimpered into his ear, planting wet kisses onto his neck. Her walls tightened around his cock as he continuously hit the deepest and most pleasurable part of her core.

Her back arched into him, her tits pressed themselves against his chest. “Davos-“ she gasped.

“Go on, my sweet- cum for me..” he groaned. Her cunt spasmed around his length, her mouth fell agape at the feelings of her peak taking over her for the second time that night.

His thrusts grew quick and erratic, he was close as well. “Fuck-“ he groaned, gripping onto her thigh with one hand and holding himself up onto the hay above her.

He quickly pulled out of her cunt, his hand flying down to his cock, pumping himself onto her stomach. His cum painted her belly in white streaks.

He fell down to her side and laid their panting next to his lover.

She pulled her handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and wiped herself and her belly from their spend.

The Bracken girl snuggled her body into her lovers side, head resting on his chest. Her fingers danced on his chest, drawing random shapes onto the warm skin. He pulled her in close with his arm, his own fingers caressing the skin of her bicep.

“So, your uncle really declared for aegon?” He broke the comforting silence.

She sighed, “must we really talk about this now, right after you fucked me so good?” She raised her head from his chest with a smile.

“Only asking, my love. Your brother is a foul prick, calling the rightful heir a kin-slayer when-“ he started before she forced her finger onto his lips to silence his rambling.

“Please, shut up about our families.”

He took her hips into his grasp and turned them over to where he was on top and she was below him, “you’re lucky I love you.” He smiled as she giggled at his words.

He sealed his confession with a kiss, the lovers worried of no one, miles away from their homes and under the roof of an abandoned stable, in the comfort of the night sky.

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

✧✦✧ Chapter 4 ✧✦✧

Oh Love, Why can't I See You?

Yandere Platonic Bat Family x Neglected Regressing GN Reader

Warning this part contains: Blood, Biting, Fighting&Yelling, Batman beating the shit out of people and Joker, almost drowning, usage of Lazarus pit and Mental breakdown.

Notes: Bruce's POV HA! I hope I did him justice and not too OOC, I notice a lack of actual Yandere themes on this fic from the family so I started with the patriach first because why not?

MASTERLIST Pages ↻3 , ...

Now Playing ↻◁ ||▷↺ Underground - Cody Fry ılıılıılılılıılıılı

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

It's weird

I see her face again, but not on her; I see it on her child's face. If I met her when she was young, their chubby and plump cheeks would look like hers, and their small stature would be strong and fierce, just like hers, if I remember correctly.

and yet why-?

Why do I see myself in her eyes? tired and exhausted, burnt out even? feeling like the world has already killed you from the inside and only your body can be seen by people who would never look past your walls?

Why do you look so much like me?

I stare at them as they tense up behind Alfred's legs after they told me their name, they were scared yes but I could see their anger behind those eyes, hatred and hateful like the boiling pits of lava, Scalding to touch by anyone and ready to erupt any day something that I couldn't stop if it were to happen.

As I watch them walk away from me and hide, I turn to Alfred and talk to him about last night. Unconsciously, something in my mind is already forgetting about them.

I haven't even known you that long, yet I'm already guilty of choosing a whole city over you.

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

It was a rough and tough night in Gotham, I was new and the evil I've been fighting has been longer than me.

Groaning I limp out of my office and head to my father's medical room when I stumble and crash on the floor, wincing I hold my side from the gunshot in one of the fights tonight, Eyes turning blurry as the air in my lungs get scarce as well as my body who beg for a rest, I can only hear my heartbeat and rushing of my blood on my ears as I lay on the carpet floor bleeding heavily until-

A tiny pair of footsteps reverberate on the floor, thudding slowly until they stop and shuffle in front of me, opening my eyes and look up to see the child looking down at me, they tilt their tiny head before turning on the side as they open their mouth like they're talking to somebody.

"...........do I-?.......... won't matter-...............never remember anyway". Their voice were all over the place as they conversed alone then their eyes turned back to me, they stared deeply through my soul, Judging me and criticizing me with just one look, Something a child shouldn't have, and yet this one was more mature, Like me- funny how they look like an exact replica of when I was just a boy, Who would have thought that there's another kid like me laying around, having the exact pain and trauma I've endured.

I feel my body get dragged on the floor as I hear their grunts and pants from pulling my cape turning, I see their face, even with frustration written on them I can still see a sliver of a child peeking through behind their cold and quiet front betrayed by their tiny pout and small huffs, never notice that before- why did I never try to notice you before?

Blinking back from the darkness, I suddenly found myself staring up at the ceiling with the familiar warm lighting from my father's old fireplace illuminating the design carved on it- Mother loved it and Father wanted her to feel welcome when she stayed on the couches reading books with me as we wait for him to finish his paperwork.

I grunt in pain when I felt something touch my side, Looking down a pair of small hands was wrapping my abdomen with a roll of gauze, They stop and look up at me, A look of indifference on their face before looking back down again and continued on before cutting the wrap and finished.

"....You.....when did you-". I tried to talk but they just looked at me making me quiet.

"..... It's best if you just stayed quiet and rest Mr. Wayne... You won't be of use when you're....." Their eyes traveled on my wounds and shots that were perfectly clean and wrapped before continuing.

".....Dead". They hummed making me tense from their choice of words before walking away as I watched them clean up the medical tray and any bloody equipment and put away saline solutions and gauze back.

My brows frowned when their words came back into my head, I touched my face not feeling the familiar texture of the cowl on my face making my eyes slightly widen and I stared at the back of their head.

-Why do I feel less scared on the thought of you knowing my identity was revealed?.

Why do I feel hurt when you won't call me Fa-.

Hearing a clutter I turn and see them adding more wood to the fireplace and poking the embers with a fire poker before putting it away and turning to me.

Both of us stare at each other, the fire behind them grows larger as their shadow grew and cast over me while their eyes seem to glow and light up with a roaring fire, a child too small and vulnerable to face the world and the evil within this city and yet they looked more than ready to burn this city to the ground and eradicate the devil's weed growing on the cracks of broken concretes of the people, something Batman has yet to do, something I can never do.

"Goodnight, Mr. Wayne". They said before walking out and closing the door behind them with a soft thud.

I look at the wooden fixture and become surprised when I see my good arm thoughtlessly reaching out for them.

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

A few more months have passed since they started living here and I find myself paying attention or moving my sights over them more and more, how they walk so silently that you can't even hear it until you finally spot them when they practically stand out in the open, They even blend perfectly anywhere like they don't want people to see or even look at them and how their voice is always on that same lower volume where you can hear them perfectly but thought it was just the wind whispering something.

But I do, I always knew, it was like seeing gold shining around their form, and anything they did it's like everything was duller except them, I even took note of little things like the twitch on their lips when something annoyed them or a raise of their brow when they're interested.

So why do you look so angry when I just want to give you attention?

"No I don't want a debut, Mr. Wayne". They replied with a glare as they sat on the other side of the table barely eating the dinner Alfred made when I asked them to join me.

I was baffled and slightly vexed at their choice and the way they didn't even take the time to think about it, or maybe it's because you still kept looking at me with that-.

"No? What do you mean no? It's only right for you as a Wayne to debut especially for your birth-". I insisted but they cut me off by slamming their hands on the hardwood surface of the table, The dishes jumped, and the pitcher of water almost tipped over from the force while my glass of wine tumbled on the side and spilled the contents.

"I said No! I don't want anything, especially from you-!". They send me a hateful look pointing a finger at me.

"And don't you ever use my birthday on anything!". They shouted before pushing back their chair and walking away, Everything was moving so fast, I could hear my heartbeat pumping harder as my breathing became heavier and faster before I knew it I was already out of my chair as my hand was just reaching for them then gripped their arm tightly.

"Where do you think you're going? This conversation isn't over". I snap as I tug them harder, They look at me in surprise as I saw fear peeking in their irises before hiding it back and hardening their eyes as they pry off my fingers from their arm.

"Yes, it is! Now let go!". They cried as the two of us continued tugging before I let go when I felt sharp pain erupt from my hand I looked and saw a bleeding bite mark on the side of my palm.

Looking up in shock, they stood there holding their arm back as a trickle of my blood dripped down their lips while they bore their teeth at me like what a scared animal would do.

"I'm sorry-". I tried to reach out for them but they only backed away until Alfred came -probably from the ruckus we made- who escorted them away before focusing on my hand.

As Alfred was cleaning my hand I kept looking at the direction they left as I listened to him chastise me on how I approached the situation.

"I only wanted to give them what any child would have wanted Alfred". I reasoned with him but I knew deep inside I already said the wrong answer.

"You are correct to some extent sir and I understand you have good intentions, Master Bruce, They may be a child but a different one, Their only world is gone not too long ago and not only that but their Mother died on their own birthday as well". Alfred confessed the reason behind their actions making my blood turn cold from the truth.

"-You, yourself must understand what it must feel like to have everything gone in just a flash". He said before tying up the gauze and backing away from me.

"Give them time and if you are still persistent about the event then let me have a discussion with them first and let the child have a say or even a few choices on the matter". He added as he started to fix up the mess while he left me thinking.

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

After Alfred had a chance to consult with them, from what he relayed is that they agreed as long as they have the choice to leave whenever they wanted and no fancy stuff that exceed on what most normal people's party should be. By taking any wins that I could get, I personally planned everything that where only proper to call a normal party making sure it's not too extravagant, an event of finally viewing them as a Wayne, to show everyone that they are my child.

How did everything go so wrong so fast?

Joker and his newly formed goons who escaped Arkham Asylum after I foiled his plans months before crashed and destroyed the party and took them away.

"So sorry for being fashionably late Mr. Wayne! I was a little heartbroken when you decided to invite all of Gotham except lil' o me SO! I've decided why not both of me and this little ball of joy have the same debut! I'm sure Batsy won't mind right?" They cackle before driving off to who knows where while I stress as the people run like ants in the rain.

I was quick, I knew I was, searching for them like hell and made sure no stone or concrete was unturned in the city even if my hands were covered by the blood of his goons or other criminals that tried to get in my way but-

When I saw them falling down that green boiling pits I knew I should have arrived sooner, I should have never let them go in the first place, I should have hidden you instead.

I yelled out for them like a desperate man till my throat was raw as their hands -just inches- slipped pass mine, their body plummeting down the liquid as they tried their best to reach out the surface and stay afloat, I pounded my wrist on the metal catwalk that I dropped onto before rushing down and rounded the clown till he was down on the floor wheezing and bloodied, his face more purple and black than his pale white ashy skin.

I knelt down in anguish gripping the rocky shore of the green glowing pool when I heard a splash, looking up to see them crying out in pain and screeching like a bat out from hell making my heartbeat stop and started to pump again as adrenaline shot through my muscles as I quickly fished them out, they cried and cried in my arms while screaming out as their body spasm and muscles twitch as green veins cracked their skin.

Shushing their cries as I hold them close and tightly, tears slowly dropped from my eyes, running down the mask till they landed on their face as they whined from fatigue yet their head looked up as our eyes met, I pulled them near my chest as I lay their head on my shoulder as I try to whisper sweet nothings into their ear, hands trembling as I dig on anything my hand could touch, my voice wavering but not my promises to protect them, to give them what they want, to love them and to stay with them forever.

"Everything is alright now, you'll be alright, Father's right here I'm not going anywhere." I whispered as I kissed the top of their head and swaying them back and forth trying to lull them to sleep.

"I see you now, I'm right here and I won't let you out of my arms ever again"

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

Hope this ain't too shitty hahaha inspired when silco tried to save jinx with shimmer kept dreaming about it last night.

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 4.3k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, flashback centric, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, mentions of injuries, violence, societal inequality, arguments, hateful speech towards hybrids, dysfunctional families, and a shit ton of angst and anger, lil fluff at the end !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: hiii it's my birthday this weekend so i'm dropping chapter 4 as a quick thank you for all the support !! i love you all so much <33 this one is very toji centric and gives a lot of his past and lore to explain why he is the way he is and what led him to find reader !! there is a lot of inequality in this chapter so keep that in mind as you proceed. as always i would recommend checking out the previous parts before reading this :33

prev. | series masterlist.

the smell of blood makes toji's eyes crack open. it fills his nostrils, heavy and metallic, and it makes his hair stand on end. despite being so used to that scent, it still makes him uneasy, because sometimes he cannot tell whose blood it is.

once his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, he can't fall back asleep, though he knows he still needs rest. a series of cracks echo from his joints as he sits up, pulses of fatigue swimming through his muscles. pushing up from the ground, he casually approaches the metal bars of his cell.

his cage.

his nose twitches, the smell of blood stronger now that he's closer. a loud yawn rips from his throat, eyes catching some guards dragging another hybrid who had fought that day. he watches them throw the unconscious animal into his cell, not sparing another glance as they turn away. the sounds of their boots gets on toji's nerves, but he does not even have enough time to pity the poor creature.

another set of guards approach his cell. he's sure that they might once again tell him off for being too aggressive, or for not following orders, or for another whipping, but he's saved this time because they're just escorting a hybrid.

a familiar hybrid.

"what's wrong?" toji drawls, lips tugging into a casual smirk. "did y'lose?"

the tiger hybrid hisses angrily in return, as though personally offended, and bares his teeth. his striped ears starkly contrast his pinkish hair.

"like hell," sukuna answers proudly.

toji is about to comment on the various bloodied scratches littering sukuna's body, but one of the guards roughly shoves the tiger into his cell.

"get in!"

sukuna turns to pin him with a murderous glare, tone even and chilling. "touch me again and i'll kill you."

the guard scoffs, unbothered, before shutting the barred door behind him. sukuna's anger rises, but he does not say anything else, choosing to stare daggers at them until they've disappeared around the corner. toji understands the feeling. it would be a piece of cake to rip their throats out, especially for predators as vicious as wolves and tigers.

but they can't. one scratch on a human and they'd be put down.

a beat of silence passes. toji is sure the hybrid sitting across the hall is also thinking about the same thing, so used to biting his tongue just to stay alive.

(he remembers the first day sukuna got thrown in, hisses and snapping teeth as he cursed the guards with all sorts of creativity. toji had been underground long enough to see the same spectacle over and over again, and so he hadn't really given a damn at that time. the two passed weeks in silence, purely focused on their own individual fights and then immediately falling asleep once back in their respective cells.

toji was no expert at reading people, but he could tell that the tiger was as stubborn as he was—they refused to acknowledge one another.

and when they were finally pitted against each other, it was a messy fight. toji still remembers the way the crowd had roared at their aggressive attacks, every draw of blood eliciting some sick twisted pleasure within them.

toji had been used to putting in the bare minimum during his fights, finding it relatively easy to win against other predators. but that fight against sukuna was the first time he struggled a little bit.

the tiger will never admit it, but the feeling was definitely mutual.

so after the brawl, when they were both quietly sitting in their cages and hissing at their wounds stubbornly, there was a brief moment of acknowledgement.

"where the hell did you learn how to fight like that?" the tiger had eyed toji warily, thick brows furrowed in a way that made him look extra grumpy.

after that, it seemed that there was a mutual sense of respect between the two of them. they are not friends per se, definitely not. both toji and sukuna know that if it came down to it, they would kill the other in the arena if it meant staying alive.

but there was an understanding that they were both on the same level. and it seemed that those who ran the fights understood that too.

after all, fights between the two of them were always a very popular spectacle.)

even now, sukuna doesn't look at toji, too busy muttering a string of insults aimed at the guard from earlier. toji ignores them, used to it. they remain in that same silence, not uncomfortable, but not really comfortable either.

toji takes a seat, crossing his legs and leaning against the cold bars. he can still hear the sounds of the guards footsteps echoing through the halls, and that just makes him crave freedom—another familiar feeling.

he should be used to it by now. craving what he cannot have.

sukuna seems to know what he's thinking, because he scoffs with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "don't start."

"you don't ever think about running?" toji ponders, dragging his claws across the stone floor. the tiger's ears twitch, sensitive to the sound, and he throws toji a scathing scowl.

"run? where the hell would we go?" the tiger grumbles, crossing his bulky arms. "you know they'll just find us again. it's pointless."

"but it's happened before," toji insists, scratching behind his ear absentmindedly. there have always been whispers floating through the compound, of hybrids with guts of steel that took it upon themselves to make a run for it. though several were caught and devastatingly punished, there were those who they never saw again. the idea that they must be somewhere where light shines and wind blows is strangely comforting.

"yeah rarely," the tiger snorts in return. a quiet hiss of displeasure escapes his lips as he notices the claw marks running up his arm, and he carefully begins licking at his wounds. "most of the time those fools get caught. and then they get punished."

toji shrugs noncommittally, leaning his head against the bars. "worth the risk."

sukuna curiously peers at him from over his injured arm, heavy brows furrowed. "you really think it's that much better up there?"

"anywhere's better than in here." toji says it resolutely, and sukuna, normally so snippy, says nothing to rebuke him.

before the conversation can continue, toji's nostrils fill with a familiar scent—cigarettes, ironed clothes, faint whiskey. he suppresses a roll of his eyes.

"look who it is." he sarcastically cranes his neck, watching as shiu kong approaches his cell with a nonchalant smile.

"you sure do look relaxed for someone who just had me do a shit ton of paperwork." shiu leans against the wall, eyeing toji through the cell. toji does not like that he has to look up to meet his gaze, so he gets to his feet and casually crosses his arms.

"what the fuck did i do?"

"lots of people enjoyed your fight yesterday. with the polar bear?" shiu pulls out a cigarette, and toji's nose crinkles. "you've got an increase in bets, y'know?"

"who cares?" toji mutters, pushing away from the bars to pace around his cell.

it's not like any of the hybrids get that money.

"i do," shiu chuckles, cigarette balanced between his lips. "you're helping me get paid."

"lucky you," toji sarcastically shoots back. shiu snorts in amusement, crossing his arms.

"anyways, i'm thinking this is a good time to host a big fight for you. the timing is good." toji's "manager" (if that's what you can call him) eyes the wolf as he exhales a puff of smoke. toji's eyes narrow in return, a feeling of anticipation and mild irritation crawling up his skin.

"so you two—" shiu nods his head towards the wolf and the grumpy tiger sitting across the hall. "—prepare for a show, alright?"

sukuna curses colorfully, and toji rolls his eyes. "relax. i'm not giddy to fight you either, asshole."

"yeah because you'll lose," the tiger hisses, baring his teeth.

"oh yeah? that's not what happened last time." toji grins wolfishly, watching sukuna's anger rise.

"because you fucking cheated!"

"aw, little cat can't handle a few bites?" toji's amusement becomes more palpable, enjoying the argument—a very common occurrence for the two of them. "that's why dogs are better."

"i'll kill you," sukuna utters ominously, his striped tail puffed and curling in an aggressively defensive display.

"try it," toji smirks back.

"alright easy boys," shiu chuckles, shaking his head in mild exasperation. "save that energy for the actual fight. people eat that shit up."

"and somehow we're the animals," sukuna grumbles, deciding he's done with the conversation as he heads over to the corner of his cell and curls up on the ground.

"well yeah," shiu shrugs, unfazed. "you should be used to that by now."

they are.

"anyway i figured i'd let you know." the older man turns to face toji. "i know most of the fights are pretty easy for you. but since you both are top tier fighters, prepare how you need to."

"it's not like we've never fought before," toji replies dryly, ears twitching. "i know how it goes down."

"well okay." shiu adjusts his suit jacket, shoving his hands into his pockets.

from the corner of his eye, toji can see sukuna listening in, face impassive.

"you two give me a good show, alright?" shiu casually waves over his shoulder, before heading off back in the direction he came.

"whatever," sukuna grunts, turning on his side. toji watches the tiger's tail lazily flick—side to side. "i hate dogs."

toji lets out a dry chuckle. "well i'm not the biggest fan of cats either, asshole."

again, they aren't friends, but the bleakness of their situation makes it easier to tolerate one another.

a week later, they both face off in the area as promised. shiu claps toji on the back before he heads in, a gesture that makes the wolf's skin prickle, but he brushes it off. he could have someone worse be in charge of him, but shiu is a bit easier to get along with than most of the humans down there. though toji isn't naive—the only reason shiu is so casually cheery around him is because toji is his biggest moneymaker.

that's what it all came down to.

sukuna and toji have both fought enough times to know how to play to the crowd's wishes. they bark and snarl at each other like they are truly wild, claws and teeth and blood everywhere because they know that's what gets the humans going.

that's what gets them to open their wallets at least.

sukuna takes the victory this time around, which is not inherently unusual—they both have a fairly even split of victories and losses. they play up their enmity, and everyone goes wild.

even though hybrids are the shackled ones, somehow these humans remind toji of puppets—so easily manipulated.

the two of them stand and rile up the crowd at the end, acting like they truly are nothing but feral animals who know only to growl and snap at each other. as soon as they hear the sounds of money being exchanged and the roar of conversation they are escorted back to their cells.

toji's ears ring with the sounds of groans and cheers, the same familiar words grating his ears.

"i told you sukuna would win this one!"

"yeah but i said toji would draw first blood, so pay up!"

imbeciles. savages. nothing humane about them.

in their cells, both of them do their best to clean up their wounds. but a fight this aggressive usually results in equally rough damage.

"i think you fractured my rib or something," toji grunts, wincing as he sits down. sukuna throws him an unimpressed look through the bars of his cage.

"not my fault you're weak."

toji's middle finger flies up automatically, and sukuna's lips pull up to one side. "ask them for medical if it's that bad."

"yeah right," toji snorts, licking away the blood that has been dripping from the corner of his mouth. "like they'll listen."

it's more of a curse that hybrids have a better pain tolerance than humans. the medics here never take their injuries seriously for that exact reason.

no instead, they are expected to clean up as they can and prepare for the next fight, letting their body heal as well as possible. humans have always been so hypocritical.

they both relax in a welcome silence. toji suddenly realizes how tired he is, jade eyes straining as he attempts to fix himself up. he knows the rules—damaged merchandise is treated as such.

his ears pick up the faint sound of footsteps approaching, and he realizes that it's probably shiu coming over to update them about the earnings of their fights.

but he is entirely surprised.

"wow, you're definitely a sight."

toji's eyes narrow, teeth gritting. his mood plummets, ears straightening and tail going rigid. the sound of that voice makes every bit of hatred in toji's body come bubbling to the surface. he glares over his shoulder, spitting out each word with extreme difficulty. "what the fuck do you want?"

naoya zenin looks down his nose at the wolf, a greasy smile on his face. naobito zenin stands just behind him, arms crossed with a barely visible look of disgust on his face.

toji's cousin conveniently ignores the accusatory question, peering around the cells and hallway with feigned interest. "these conditions are terrible!"

he finally pins toji with his gaze, an evil smile pulling at his lips. "well, that's to be expected for animals."

"what the fuck do you want?!" toji growls, claws digging into the ground. naoya's eyes light up at the anger, knowing full well that those claws can never come anywhere near him.

"temper! temper!" the blonde gasps, tutting at toji like he's nothing more than a child. "haven't you learned how to control yourself by now?"

"let me out of this cell and i'll show you just how much control i have." the wolf's voice is no more than a rumble, dark and ominous because there is nothing in the world that toji hates more than his own family.

naoya shakes his head, feigning a look of disappointment. "so violent. it's a good thing we put you in here. who knows how dangerous you could've been to us."

the words hit their mark, a jab of self-hatred. toji's green eyes flit over to his uncle, sharp and accusatory.

the one who ratted him out to this godforsaken place.

toji knows when normal families have a predator hybrid born into their home, they lie and cheat and hide them away from this life—too desperate to keep their child away from such danger. after all, it's not the child's fault they were born a predator.

but not toji's family. not the zenins, who took one look at him and waited for the second he turned 18 before hauling him off.

nothing but a bunch of rats.

he knows that he was worth a lot of money. a healthy and fit wolf hybrid, broader and stronger than most of his own species. and of course, his family was quick to sell him off, glad to be rid of this curse on their family—the only shame.

toji had grown up knowing he was hated, but he never thought a family could do something so horrible to one of their own. he stopped seeing the best in people after that.

"you brought this on yourself," his uncle states now, emotionless. his opinion on hybrids has not changed one bit, and yet he shamelessly comes to the compound to collect a portion of the winnings that toji earns. "born with tainted blood."

"you're acting like it's my fucking fault, old man," toji spits out, hackles raised. he wants them to leave, because all he feels when looking at them is nausea.

"it's your damn mother's fault. couldn't keep away from my brother. she ruined him," naobito's emotionless voice takes on a tone of hatred, and toji tenses. "filthy dog whore."

toji's reaction is instantaneous. he's at the bars in a second, teeth bared and spewing curses as he makes a mad grab for either of them. he doesn't care—all he wants to do is tear them to shreds. toji can feel his wounds open further, can feel blood dripping over his skin, but all that seems miniscule when they are in front of him.

the cause of every single misfortune he has ever had.

naoya hops out of the way, laughing—it is a mocking, grating laugh that echoes throughout the hall as he watches toji desperately struggle. "see see! this is why you're dangerous!"

naobito shakes his head, as though he's thoroughly disappointed, but he does not say anything else.

"anyways, well done today!" naoya continues, grinning as he crosses his arms. "you earned a lot of money for us."

toji glares at him, dropping his arm and taking a step back. somehow, being further in his cell is much more comforting than being in their line of sight. he keeps his lips tightly shut.

naoya's voice turns taunting as naobito heads off without another word. "such a shame my dear cousin wasn't born normal like the rest of us." he follows his father without a care in the world, knowing how well his words sting. "had to be born an animal freak."

the hallways is empty. toji takes a few steadying breaths, pushing the anger away because he knows that there is truly no point in keeping it. it's not like this anger has done him any good. maybe if he had gotten angry earlier, he would have zenin blood on his hands—the thought gives him a sick sense of satisfaction.

"your family fucking sucks…" sukuna pipes up from across the hall. toji scoffs out a laugh, but it is far from amused. he turns away.

suddenly the blood on his hands makes him feel disgusting—so much more animalistic than human.

"tell me about it," he mutters, back turned. his ears pick up the sounds of sukuna curling up in his corner, and in a few minutes, quiet rumbling snores follow.

toji sighs, approaching his sink and staring at the cracked mirror he's grown used to seeing himself in. he takes in his reflection, disgust rolling in his stomach.

he thinks he'd probably be considered decently attractive if he was a regular old human. but the dark furry ears, the sharp canines, and all the scars ruin him. adding his haggard clothing and feral eyes and all the blood and dirt on him, he can understand why he is considered so untouchable.

an animal in every right.

he turns the sink on. he is briefly reminded of another time, a time where he lived in a family house and slept in a futon that was warmer than anything he's ever slept in. he can remember wearing things other than rags, occasionally a yukata and other times a t-shirt. he can remember eating a home cooked meal and drinking sake and feeling sunlight on his skin.

and yet even in those better times, he has always had to hear the words of his family cursing his existence. cursing his mother's name for seducing his father and ruining their bloodline with her animal blood.

the only dark stain on the pristine zenin family.

toji sighs, scrubbing the blood from under his claws—like clockwork. the water in the sink turns a mocking shade of pink, and as horrible as it is to say, toji is glad the blood is not his.

he wipes his paws across his ragged clothes, and stares at himself in the mirror.

he isn't ashamed to admit it—but he hates what he sees.

naoya's laughter rings in his ears as he shuts his eyes.

"hey toji?"

his eyes snap open. when the haze clears he sees your features come into focus, soft and curious. your scent floods his nose, and a pleasant shiver runs up his skin. there is a quick sense of relief when he realizes that he had been dreaming of a time in the past, and he steels himself, expression indifferent as he sits up. he briefly recognizes the stark contrast between the hardness of the stone floor in his cell and the softness of your couch—his tongue sits heavy in his mouth.

"what?" he grunts, rubbing at his eyes. he tries to throw you a mock irritated glance, but either it comes off too mild or you've become good at ignoring it. "when'd you get here?"

"a few minutes ago. i got takeout." your lips pull into a teasing smile. "unless you'd rather go back to sleep?"

he pins you with a scathing glare, and annoyingly enough, your smile becomes wider. he stands up, popping his joints and following you to your kitchen table, before diligently taking a seat—in his chair.

toji silently watches you bustle around, grabbing utensils and plates to evenly distribute the food. his stomach growls eagerly, and he realizes just how hungry he is—he recognizes that his body is getting used to being fed so often, and he does not know how to feel about that.

toji's eyes zero in on silly details, not knowing why he does it. your hair is a little messy, not as neat as when you left for work that morning. you've taken off your jacket, the absence of the restrictive fabric making your movements easier. he thinks you've probably had a good day, because your expression, though fatigued, is still relaxed—a small, almost miniscule smile remains on your face.

there a strange satisfaction the settles in his chest when he notices that. he doesn't know why, but the idea that you've had a nice day rather than a difficult one puts him at ease.

"how was your day?" you speak up, briefly making eye contact with him.

(toji does not understand why the small contact makes his stomach flip.)

he grunts, nonchalant. "not bad. didn't do much."

"the injuries are good?"

toji rolls his eyes, dropping his chin into his palm as he pins you with an intrusive stare. "yeah yeah. you ask this every day."

"well it can be good one day and not good the next," you reply defensively, frowning at the chicken you're currently dropping into his plate. but you look satisfied to hear his answer.

toji chuckles mutely. "sure kid."

(the nickname came randomly. you never commented on it. he didn't either.)

he hesitates for a second, before clearing his throat. "how was yours?"

you glance up at him, too quick for him to analyze the expression, but he thinks he catches a faint trace of pleasant surprise. "it was good. boring but not bad at all."

he nods awkwardly—the internal satisfaction grows stronger. his stomach rumbles again as you walk over and place his plate in front of him, and the smell hits his nose immediately—his hunger is all consuming.

(your scent is one of the few human scents he has truly found pleasant.)

and yet he finds himself patiently waiting until you plate your own food, sitting across him quietly. he presses his hands together, bowing his head as he mutters a quiet "thank you for the food" before tucking in.

(he does not say your name, but he thinks he is thanking you—his own twisted version of a god.)

he stays quiet for most of the meal, focusing on the unique and savory taste of the food. months ago he would not have imagined being able to consume such delicacy, but all you have done since you walked into his life is show him that he can have much more than he ever dreamed he could.

you blabber about random things as you eat, telling him about something you saw or what you did throughout the day. he listens.

you're in the middle of updating him about some stupid work drama, which, as embarrassing as it is to say, toji has been looking forward to hearing about. he does not interrupt you, trying to rack his brain for all the details you've spilled the last time.

(it's pathetic how quick he finds them. something about listening to you talk that makes everything else seem useless in comparison.)

"so anyways her husband found out and got mad. but then she basically tried to deny it and said that he was accusing her of nothing." you shove a mouthful of rice into your mouth, rolling your eyes. your tongue flicks out to lick at your lips—toji's eyes shamefully trace the movement. "it's a whole thing now because obviously the dude she was having the affair with works with us too."

"what a bitch," toji answers. your eyes crinkle with amusement, eager to hear him participating. you've probably since realized that he does find your gossip interesting. but it's more than that—he does not know why it's so easy to talk to you.

"right? i hate cheaters," you mutter, stabbing at your chicken.

he does too. something about being a dog that makes loyalty so damn important to him.

(maybe that's why he feels physically ill when he thinks about leaving your side.)

you continue rambling about your cheating coworker with a newfound conviction. toji listens, occasionally dropping a dry remark, and you either laugh or nod emphatically. his lips quirk upward at every reaction. he continues eating his food—slowly so that he can match your pace. which is odd, because he was so damn hungry before.

but even as he quietly chews on the flavored meat, he finds that satiety comes a lot quicker when he quietly listens to you talk.

taglist: @h4wkz @babyblue0t7 @en-happiness @ourfinalisation @lymsfm @jazzy00001 @mahoubitch @deedeeznoots @ghost-buddies @teddybeartoji @onimira @polarbvnny @starmapz @thikcems @nonamebbsblog @echoedead @totallygyomeiswife @venussdovess @emi311 @meow-satoru @your-mum3000 @haydensjw @abadbitchblogs @marajafarli @twinky-wink @t4ters @17362939 @shadowlover321 @koko-1025 @daniella666girl @d1cklethep1ckle @an-ever-angry-bi @excedr @hibiscy @emmenic726 @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @ewwitsbella @thisisew @crystaldreamland @namjooningera @call-memissbrightside @scyia @chugao @szired @keiva1000 @yoongies-bby @giamee @hypnoctiis @nappingmoon @tananaxx @twinklingbeautifulstars @tadabzzzbee @friedchicken-tendou @cupcaketeddybehr @beaniedoodz @kvso @lily-isalittlegirl

if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged, it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings !!

[nymphea0]

Kurkans Mate .

Mine and yours.

Yan! Ishakan x reader

(Special Chapter)

Warning : Mature content! Before you read this, make sure you are old enough, children and minors are prohibited from reading this story chapter.

Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Word count : 2.86 word

Hello, this is Neva, at your service. So glad all Ishakan series are complete. This is a special chapter that I updated especially for Tumblr readers who may not have WP. Because I'm sure some of my dears may not have WP. So, this is a special chapter for Ishakan series. Next project wss supernatural series. A monsters, i hope you all will like it this project as well:)

I added some POV characters here, which I didn't write in the WP special chapter. So, enjoy, my dears, lots of love- Neva🦋🦋 .

Might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

Kurkans Mate Pt. 1

Kurkans Mate Pt. 2

Kurkans Mate Pt. 3

Kurkans Mate Pt. 4

.

.

.

Ishakan stared at you full of love and lust, but he had to restrain himself!.

Leading you slowly towards the sofa that had a small table, gently pouring a typical Kurkans drink, 1 glass. Ishakan drank it first, then he gave it to you, he could feel you were hesitant to drink it! .

Ohh how cute his wife is! So innocent and gentle! Never even drank wine!.

You spent that night talking to Ishakan, to understand each other, to be open to each other because you are husband and wife now.

Ishakan even apologized to you, he didn't mean to kidnap or hurt Esmera, but his beast instinct said otherwise, Ishakan had even renovated Esmera's hut, even Esmera came to the wedding!.

Even though you didn't meet, Esmera did come to see in the form of an owl, happy at least you were safe in the hands of the Kurkans, Esmera had been watching from afar, anticipating that if the Kurkans treated you badly, then she would take you back by force.

It turns out that Ishakan is not as bad as you thought, he is an understanding man, he doesn't care whether you can get pregnant or not, because Ishakan brought you into his life to love you and spend his life until old age waiting as his partner, his wife.

With a position facing each other you are currently on the balcony.

Ishakan looks at you lovingly, the moon is full in the sky, his heart is beating fast.

Ishakan cups your cheeks with his hands, stroking them gently with his thumbs.

"You are my world, I will never be afraid of losing or fear, as long as you are by my side and live together by my side until the end of my life, my Mate, I love you"

Tilted his head slowly, Ishakan kissed you, crushed it gently, carefully, the sound of your kisses filled the bedroom balcony.

Ishakan's hand easily pulled you to his side closer, deepening your kiss, eroding the distance between you, one of his hands was around your nape, his lips and tongue were busy tasting your lips and tongue, taking notes of every content of your mouth.

His other hand was on your waist, stroking and squeezing softly making you moan softly, only making him more aroused.

With one movement of his hand, Ishakan lifted and carried you into the room without breaking the kiss between the two of you.

Dropping you gently, Ishakan saw you under him, panting, face red and out of breath, lips swollen from his kiss.

Opening his wedding dress, showing his chest and body that were perfect for a king.

Ishakan kissed you again, biting your lower lip softly, making you moan softly, his tongue dancing and claiming yours.

His hands did not stay still, placing both of your hands above your head held with one of his left hands, his right hand, moving to stroke from your cheeks, neck, collarbone, the center line between your chest.

Teasingly stroking the line of your stomach that made you moan softly. smirking softly, knowing that you were sensitive all over your body, his hands went down to the lower part of your body.

Pulling up your red dress slowly, showing your legs and thighs, pulling them straight with his hands, kissing your ankles softly.

Lowering himself from the ankles to along the knees, biting your thighs, your knees leaning on his shoulders, leaving bite marks on your soft thighs, Ishakan got closer, until he was right in front of your core, wet and full of the scent of passion!

He had to hold himself back, it wasn't time for him to be brutal, not yet.

Pulling with his two fingers, Ishakan sensually opened your panties, showing your core completely without any clothes on there.

You who are embarrassed try to cover it! But unfortunately Ishakan holds both your hands.

Spreading your legs, your face turns red with embarrassment.

Looking at you, Ishakan just smirks and breathes into your core, which makes you sigh stifled.

Sticking out his tongue, Ishakan tastes your core, which makes you sigh unable to hold back anymore, you are very sensitive just from his kiss before, you have never felt anything like this!

Ishakan's tongue moves skillfully, from the middle to the core of your clit, sucking, licking, feeling, even widening your core.

You can't think clearly just your tongue but it has made you lose your mind.

Your hand that Ishakan has released, is around his hair, sighing, gasping for breath, Ishakan's other hand also doesn't stay still, his hand is busy scooping, squeezing, playing with your right chest, tearing with just one pull of your top dress.

Making you naked showing your chest, his hands are busy twisting and squeezing.

Your moans are getting louder indicating that you will come soon.

When you are about to come, Ishakan replaces it with his finger, making you increasingly losing his mind and moaning more and more.

"Take it out honey, come on, you can, smear my finger with your essence loves, come on my rabbit~"

Pulling and inserting his finger quickly, you come for the first time in your life!

Moaning almost screaming, eyes unable to open wide, biting your lower lip slowly.

For Ishakan this sight is very beautiful, very sexy and exciting, only him, only Ishakan can make you like this.

Growling primally, Ishakan forcibly pulls your lower dress, making you naked, so exposed to his eyes.

Ishakan then brings his finger filled with your love fluid to his mouth, sucking and tasting it.

You who stare at it can only be embarrassed, he looks at you with full primal!.

Your legs are spread wide, Ishakan opens his pants.

He's big, very big! Does it even fit?!.

"Isha... it doesn't seem to fit... this is my first time"

Ishakan just laughed in amusement seeing your worried expression, kissing your lips softly, Ishakan distracted your thoughts.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be okay"

His kiss went down to your neck, sucking and biting it on the right and left, leaving love bite marks on your neck.

His kiss went down to your shoulder, biting gently then to your collarbone, then to your chest, kissing gently, then putting your nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily, his other hand didn't stay still, giving the same attention to your chest that he sucked, his fingers twisting, pulling and squeezing your chest.

Moaning was the only thing you could do because of Ishakan's actions on your body.

Ishakan's hand then went down to spread your legs, with a gentle push, inserting himself, uniting with you.

You who were doing it for the first time, of course screamed in pain considering Ishakan who was also very big. Ishakan kissed your lips and neck, to ease your pain. It worked.

Slowly, the sound in the room that the two of you would use in the future, was filled with the sound of love, passion, and lust. The sound of skin slapping was very clear, Ishakan's sighs, and growls blended with the atmosphere full of the first night.

.

.

You're not sure how many hours or maybe days it's been? You can only be busy moaning, groaning and following Ishakan's direction.

While Ishakan? That man, your husband is busy moaning in your ear, moaning vulgarly and shamelessly in your ear.

His hands are busy playing with your breasts and hips, while his own hips? Busy moving back and forth, the point is entering your core.

.

.

.

.

Those 5 days, you were slaughtered by Ishakan, unable to hold back anymore, on the 5th day, you fell unconscious, while Ishakan? That man just chuckled and cleaned your body.

It's just a matter of time for Ishakan, he will soon become a father, and so will you, become a mother.

Blood union Between the Antrabeth and Kurkans tribes, two tribes that are above the other races.

This is not a dark or light story, but this story is about how Ishakan, can convince his mate, even by kidnapping which for some people is an abnormality, but this is the Kurkans we are talking about, normality never exists in that tribe.

.

.

.

'The sound of a closed book'

In the garden a woman with blue hair, sits in a pavilion scattered with small fish ponds, with a pavilion podium studded with gold and high-quality wood, beautiful fabrics fall from each ceiling of the pavilion, creating a beautiful illusion, covering the outside view to see into the pavilion.

A small boy sits on the woman's lap, while a tall man is next to the woman holding a girl.

The woman had just read a story about "History Of Kurkans Mate"

"So how's the history? Are you not curious anymore again?"

The woman asked the two children who were of different genders, but with similar proportions, twins, the two children had the same blue hair as the woman, while their skin followed the color of the man sitting beside the woman.

The two twins just smiled and nodded before standing up and running to play with each other in the garden field right in front of the pavilion.

The man, put one arm around the woman's waist.

"The twins are big now, I think it's time we gave them a sibling, how about that my rabbit?"

Kissing the woman's cheek affectionately, while the Eve just blushed!.

"Ishakan?! Twins are only 7 years old! Not yet! I refuse!"

You've been together for more than 7 years, and the woman is you, you slap Ishakan's arm lightly, your husband.

"Oh my dear, it seems you have forgotten that, the Kurkans have never known the concept of refusing, the word no, refusal or disagreement"

Ishakan stood with you in his arms actually, bridal style! Those of you who are embarrassed, only can just cover your faces with your hands, you feel very embarrassed because the Servants and Sholdier/Knight are looking at you.

In the Kurkans palace, a desert surrounded by a large oasis, the Kurkans Kingdom thrived under the leadership of King Ishakan Kurkans, the best king in the history of Kurkans, with his mate who was also the best in history, there was no slavery, discrimination, racism or rebellion. There is only peace, happiness from one end of the kingdom to the other end of the kingdom of Kurkans.

For people who have visited Ishakan Kingdom, there are only a few things that those who have been there will say.

"It feels like the kingdom is like a myth"

.

.

On the other side of the desert continent of the Kurkans, there are several kingdoms that are also developing rapidly, one of which is the Estia kingdom.

Led directly by Queen Leah de Estia, a beautiful woman with a face like the moon. Anyone would fall in love seeing her so beautiful, perfect, almost like an angel falling from the sky.

One of the people who fell in love with her was none other than Leah's half brother. Bléon de Estia.

The man was crazy, of course , a sick and very twisted obsession. After the ambush and capture of the queen of Estia, Serdine.

Leah saw with her own eyes how Ishakan and some of the Estia courtiers burned Serdine. While Bléon, the man looked at Ishakan with envy. Nothing more and nothing less, thinking that Ishakan will take Leah from her.

Crazy about it, Bleon said to Ishakan.

"I have defiled the woman you are going to take, take her! Take the used goods that I have touched and play with them as you please, you savage monster!"

Right after the sentence was uttered, a head flew right in front of leah's eyes. Bléon's floating head flew and fell rolling and stopped right in front of her feet.

That night, Leah would never forget how Ishakan had saved her. And also the kingdom of Estia.

Leah sent a proposal, hoping that the kingdom of Estia and the Kurkans could become one.

But unfortunately, the proposal was rejected. Because it turned out that the king of the Kurkans himself already had someone to be proposed to.

On the wedding day of the king of the kurkans, where leah came as one of the honored guests, that's where she found out why ishakan rejected her proposal.

Herself as a woman if given the opportunity as a man, she might do the same thing as ishakan did. Kidnap that woman. For Leah, just by looking at her once she knew very well, the woman who was right in front of Ishakan, had made Ishakan, the barbarian kurkans, kneel. Very beautiful, small and fragile. Of course, Leah who did not have any special lines in her blood, more than knowing not to go any further to be with ishakan.

A woman from the Atrabeth tribe, the lover of nature. Of course leah knows for sure.

The two tribal myths are united in a soul bond.

For Leah, the story of Ishakan and the woman, the lover of nature from the Antrabeth tribe, felt very unreal.

As if they were just a myth.

.

.

.

The End.

©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Series.

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa @merveeeeesworld

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

[igotsnothing]

Beginning/Previous/Next ⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆

[gothcsz]

Obvious | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 4 of Unscripted Desire | ~12k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Life after quitting the porn industry.

Tags: halloween vibes, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex (protected), getting bent over in a parking garage, frankie heavy beginning (they had us in the first half not gonna lie), speaking of frankie he wears the ghostface mask while hitting it, connie has entered this little universe, masturbation with vibrator (f), clit stimulation, dirty talk, pussy slapping, JUST THE TIP!!!!, no use of y/n, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: surpriseeeee, i woke up a little too inspired to write and voila, out came this beautiful chapter that i was not expecting to get out so soon. again, this fic has def taken off in ways i never imagined but uhhh, we out here 🖤 thanks to everyone for the support, frankie girlies (gn) i hope i did your man justice 'cause i was feeling a little too feral for him. as for my just the tip stans... we did it joe 🤠 i hope you guys fucking love this the way i do and that you ruined your underwear... just as i did 🖤

The cool autumn breeze sweeps over you as you walk out of the movie theater with Frankie, the Halloween spirit in full swing. Scream 2 was as thrilling as ever, and your favorite of the trilogy.

The fall season always makes you feel nostalgic, and tonight has been no exception—dinner, a movie, and Frankie by your side for the past month has made things feel better than they have been for quite some time now.

“It’s not that hard to escape the bastard,” Frankie says confidently, as if he’d be the first to survive the whole ordeal. “He’s just some guy—or girl—wearing a mask with a knife. I’d have them handled in five minutes. Tops.”

You laugh, humoring him. “Oh, I’m sure you would.”

The parking garage is mostly empty, dimly lit as you make your way to his truck, parked at the top level. You’re talking casually about the film when he suddenly slows down, a mischievous smirk creeping across his face. He corners you slowly, backing you against the cool metal of the truck, his presence looming as you feel the tension rise. 

“Or,” he says, voice dropping lower, “I could be a real kickass Ghostface.”

Your eyes flick to the mask in his hand, the complimentary one that came with the tickets, and then back to him. His dark brown eyes gleam with playful intent, and a thrill shoots through you. “Oh yeah?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

He grins, slipping his cap off and pulling the mask over his face. Oh, shit. You’ve never had a mask kink before, but something about Frankie wearing it like this, his body pressing closer, has your pulse racing. 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asks, his voice lowering to mimic what’d you just seen, a smooth yet eerie tone. It’s almost too good, too convincing, and you suddenly understand why people fantasize about this kind of thing.

You bite your lip, your mind swirling with desire as his hand slides down to your hip, squeezing gently. “I don’t have one,” you say, teasing him. You can barely see his eyes through the mask’s slits, but the way his head tilts makes your stomach flip.

“Oh, c’mon, hermosa,” he purrs, “don’t lie to me.”

You giggle nervously, feeling the heat between you both intensify. Glancing around to make sure you’re still alone, you place a hand on his chest, letting it slide down slowly until it reaches his belt. He grunts in response, his free hand gripping the back of your head tightly. The pressure sends a shiver down your spine, and you whimper softly.

“You’re liking this, aren’t you?” He asks, voice muffled slightly by the mask but dripping with lust.

“More than I’d like to admit,” you breathe out, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. And before you can process it, your jeans and underwear are being pulled down to your mid-thigh. Frankie wastes no time, maneuvering you into the backseat of the truck. You’re bent over, ass out, hands pressed against the cool leather as you hear him undo his belt, the sound of his zipper punctuating the quiet.

He’s quick, efficient, rolling a condom over his thick cock before positioning himself behind you. His hand grips your hip as he thrusts into you, and you gasp as he fills you, the mask still firmly on his face. 

It’s fucking amazing. Frankie fucks you like no one ever has—not like it’s for show or performance, but feverent and real. Each thrust hits the perfect spot inside you, sending your vision into a haze of stars. You’re more vocal than you’ve ever been, moaning his name, asking for more.

“Harder,” you whine, and he obliges, his nails digging into your hips as he pounds into you relentlessly. His grunts mix with your moans, the sound echoing in the empty parking garage. 

When he’s close, he finally pulls the mask off, tossing it aside before leaning down, kissing and nipping at your neck. His fingers move below you, rubbing at your sensitive clit as you clench around him, your orgasm rushing through you.

His teeth graze your skin as you both reach your peak, your body trembling as he groans, his release following yours.

He stills inside you, breathing heavily against your neck, and for a moment, everything is still—just you, him, and the night. You smile, feeling content, and he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder before slowly pulling out, leaving you both breathless in the backseat of his truck.

“Well, fuck.” Frankie curses under his breath, tying the condom off with a quick motion. His hands, now gentler, reach for yours as he helps you up, both of you quickly fixing your clothes and appearances.

Once you’re situated, you spin around to face him, your fingers lightly brushing his jaw as you lean in to kiss him. It’s sweet, and the soft smack of your lips echoes through the empty parking garage.

“That was amazing,” you say, still a little breathless, your heart still racing in your chest.

A smirk plays on his lips as he puts his cap back on and tosses the used condom in a nearby trash bin. “Gonna have to hold onto this,” he says, nodding toward the Ghostface mask, now thrown carelessly into the backseat. There’s a playful gleam in his eyes, that flirty, teasing edge you’ve come to expect from him.

“It was definitely a heat-of-the-moment thing,” you say, trying to play it cool, though you can’t help the little grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Mhm, sure it was.” He winks, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you as he starts the engine, the rumble of his truck echoing as he pulls out of the garage.

The streets are alive with the Halloweekend night crowd. People spill out of bars, laughter and chatter drifting through the air as Frankie navigates through the bustling costumed scene. You catch sight of a group of friends stumbling onto the sidewalk, and you’re grateful that your apartment’s entrance is around the back, away from all the noise and chaos.

Frankie pulls up across the street from your place, parking the truck and turning to you with a slightly furrowed brow. “Not really a fan of your current living arrangement,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes serious.

You shrug, reaching for your purse. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” though you can’t deny you’ve felt the same way. The cramped apartment above a rowdy bar wasn’t your dream setup, but it’s what you’ve got for now.

Leaning over the console, you peck his lips once, twice, then again. What starts as a series of playful kisses quickly turns into something more, your hands finding his stubbled jaw as his fingers graze your thigh. Before long, you’re fully making out again.

When you finally pull away, your lips tingling, you ask softly, “Wanna come up?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes search yours for a moment, considering something. But then, with a slow nod, he says, “Yeah, okay.” His voice is steady, but there’s that familiar heat beneath it, the same one that had you wrapped up in the backseat earlier.

The following morning is spent with the both of you lazily lounging around your apartment, only leaving to pick up  a late breakfast from your favorite spot around the corner before you’re back in bed, sleeping the day away.

You’re barely aware of the warm breath ghosting over your inner thighs as you shift in your sleep, legs lazily spread across the bed. A sleepy moan slips out when you feel soft lips pressing against your pussy, then a firmer kiss followed by a slow drag of a tongue. 

You stir, half-dazed, your fingers instinctively moving to the unruly curls of hair between your legs as the sensation intensifies. Frankie’s lips latch onto your clit, sucking gently, and it sends a shock of pleasure through your body, waking you up fully.

“Oh,” his name slips from your lips like a breathless confession. 

You can feel his grin against you, hear the low groan vibrating through your sensitive flesh as he takes his time, his tongue swirling around you in lazy circles, savoring your taste.

Just for a second, a flash of something—or someone—else crosses your mind. Javier. The thought of him, of the way he’d made you fall apart that day in the elevator, flickers in your mind like a flame.

Your eyes fly open in shock, and you gasp, but Frankie is none the wiser. He assumes your reaction is all because of him, and that only spurs him on. His lips press harder against you as he brings two fingers up, spreading you open gently before sinking them inside. 

You shake your head, mentally shoving him back into the recesses where he belongs.

With a determined focus, you let yourself melt back into the pleasure, letting go of everything else. “Pussy tastes so good, hermosa,” he mumbles, as he works his mouth and fingers together, creating a messy, perfect rhythm that has your thighs clenching around his head.

It’s all too much, too good, and you can’t help the way your body writhes beneath him.

Your moans fill the room, louder and more desperate, hips lifting and chasing the pleasure as the tension in your spine coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, and you come undone all over his lips and fingers.

Frankie doesn’t stop right away—his lips stay on you, moving with less intensity now, just soft kisses as you come down from your high. He places a final, lingering kiss to your clit before he crawls up your body, kissing a path along your skin. You’re still wearing his t-shirt, your body half exposed, and he grins down at you, his dark eyes sparkling with satisfaction. 

“Figured you needed something to help get you through your shift,” he says, his voice teasing yet full of affection.

You give him a lazy, fucked-out smile, still catching your breath. “It’s gonna help me with more than just my shift, mister. You just gave me something new to add to my spank bank.”

He shakes his head playfully. “Spank bank, huh? Glad to be of service,” he adds with a wink, leaning in for another kiss, slower this time. You can’t help but run your hands over his arms, admiring the small scars, the beauty marks that dot his tan skin.

“Are you coming back tonight?” You ask softly, your fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for a peck.

He sighs against your lips before shaking his head. “Can’t. I’ve got Elliana this weekend,” he says, his tone softening as he mentions his four-year-old daughter. You haven’t met her yet, the two of you keeping things casual and slow.

Neither of you wants anything serious, but hearing him mention his daughter always adds a layer of sweetness to him that makes you feel warm.

You nod in understanding, pulling him down for one final kiss before you force yourself to get up and start getting ready for work. He watches you, that same teasing, affectionate glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but smile back at him, grateful for whatever this is between you two.

“You just got fucked, didn’t you?” Connie’s voice hits you the second you step behind the bar, her eyebrows wiggling with mischief as she leans against the counter, arms crossed over her Princess Peach costume that’s not really a costume—just a pink tennis dress with the signature crown atop of her head. 

“Hello to you too, Connie.” You give her a sarcastic smile, securing the half apron around your waist. It’s a routine now—her prying into your business like an investigative reporter for the gossip section.

Reminds you of another blond, and now you wonder if they’re all just like this.

Your firecracker of a coworker is an E.R. nurse who took on this bartending gig a few months after you did. The fact that she has to hustle for tips despite being in healthcare is one of those cruel ironies you both bitch about during slow shifts. You’d think a nurse would be raking in cash, but there are nights here at Lucky’s where she pulls more than at the hospital.

“I’m just saying,” Connie continues, mid-lemon slice, her eyes narrowing in exaggerated suspicion. “You’re wearing your cute jeans, your shirt’s actually clean, and—wait, is that makeup on your face? Please don’t tell me you’re in cat ears!” She pauses, blade in hand, smirking at you like she’s cracked some secret code.

Your face warms up as you adjust the stupid cat ears on your head. Yeah, she’s nailed it—hooking up with Frankie before your shift definitely put some extra pep in your step tonight. A little effort never hurt, especially when looking put-together meant better tips.

It’s Halloween, and people tend to tip better when you’re festive. So, why not milk it for all it’s worth?

“Just capitalizing off the holiday, Con. Is that a crime?” You say, bending down to grab the ice buckets for a quick refill before the evening rush hits.

“No, what is a crime,” she says, not missing a beat as she narrows her eyes at you, tossing the lemons aside, “is you skimping out on the juicy details of your love life.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that slips out as you hip-check her on your way to the ice machine. “I’m not skimping. It’s not like I’ve been hiding some wild love affair. We only started fucking, what, like two weeks ago?”

“And?” She leans forward, hands on her hips, waiting like she’s tuning in for the next episode of her favorite drama.

You bite your lip, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “It’s… fucking amazing.”

She whistles, then throws her hands up in celebration. You can’t help but laugh—loudly—your mood is too good to even pretend to be embarrassed.

Grabbing the freshly filled ice buckets, you lug them back behind the bar, your arms burning slightly from the weight, but you’re not complaining. Between lugging buckets and keeping the bar stocked, who needs a gym membership?

“I’m so jealous. I can’t even remember the last time I slept with a guy and actually enjoyed it,” She says with a dramatic sigh, leaning her elbows on the bar.

“Trust me, I was in the same boat for the longest time. Then Frankie just… showed up,” you say with a small, satisfied smile. It’s true, he kind of did swoop in out of nowhere, and it’s been surprisingly easy with him since.

But, of course, there’s that brief hiccup in your mind that involves Javier. 

You push the thought of him away, like you’ve been doing for weeks. What happened earlier in bed with Frankie was just a slip-up, your subconscious messing with you.

“Well, I need a guy to just show up and fuck me so I can think straight again,” she half-jokes, and the two of you burst into laughter, the kind that shakes your shoulders and draws a few curious glances from nearby patrons.

As the night picks up, the bar gets busier, and the usual rhythm settles in. You and Connie move in sync, the crowd buzzing with energy.

Costumes, chatter, and the clinking of glasses surround you, but you’re in your zone. It’s not until about two hours later, as you’re pouring someone’s vodka soda, that you catch sight of a familiar face sliding into a barstool in front of you.

“Long time no see, stranger,” you greet Steve over the music, already reaching for his usual piss beer and uncapping it before sliding it across the counter.

“Work’s been fucking ass,” he replies, taking a long, much-needed gulp from the bottle. You can see the exhaustion in his eyes. 

“Robbie still being an asshole, I presume?” You ask, shifting away to take another patron’s order while keeping half an ear out for whatever fresh hell your ex-boss has put Steve through now.

Steve’s attention, though, is fixed on something—or rather, someone—else. His gaze locks on Connie, who’s busy putting on a little show for a group of birthday girls. She’s expertly pouring a line of shots, lighting them on fire, and sliding them toward the group, who erupt into cheers.

“She seein’ anyone?” He asks, leaning in closer, like he’s trying to keep the question discreet. Between the thumping music and the lively chatter, Connie wouldn’t hear him even if he shouted.

You raise a brow. “Like I told you last time—and like she told you the time before—no.”

“Then why’s she always shuttin’ me down?” He frowns, frustration creasing his face.

You shrug, wiping down the perpetually sticky counter. “Probably because you only approach her here, when you’re halfway through a six-pack. Connie’s not looking for bullshit—she deals with enough of that here and at the hospital.”

Steve scoffs, taking another hefty swig of his beer. “Right. You bartenders are tough to crack.”

You smirk, knocking your knuckles on the wooden bar top. “Maybe, but we’re worth the effort.”

Steve chuckles at that. “Now, spill. I’ve barely seen you since I quit.” You’re curious, and maybe just a little petty.

He groans, tipping his head back as if the memory of work physically pains him. And a part of you—maybe the slightly vindictive part—waits eagerly to hear about how Robbie’s screwing up, still secretly wishing for your old boss’s downfall.

“Longer shoots for lesser pay. And the fucking guys he’s been hiring— Christ Almighty. S’been a fuckin’ shitshow since you walked out,” You feel pride swell up in your chest at the remembrance, how good it felt to stick up for yourself. “But especially since Javier kicked his ass to the curb. I’m the last one standing.”

You barely have time to absorb this before a rowdy group of frat boys descends on the bar, demanding drinks with the enthusiasm of toddlers in a candy store.

You want to wring their necks for interrupting your train of thought, especially since curiosity about what happened with Javier is gnawing at you.

Why do you care? That small voice in your head questions, but you put her on mute and focus on fulfilling the orders of these insufferable college students.

Noticing you’re tied up, Steve hops down a few barstools, positioning himself in front of Connie, trying to charm her again. You can’t help but catch snippets of his pickup lines as you whirl about behind the bar. To your surprise, Connie seems receptive this time, laughing and engaging with him instead of brushing him off like before.

Good for her—she deserves a bit of fun, especially after just saying she needed to get laid. You hope Steve has learned a thing or two from all those shoots.

Amid the chaos, you break through their flirting when Connie has to prepare another round of shots. “So, Javier quit?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can hold them back.

Steve, clearly happy as hell that his advances have finally worked, shoots you a smug grin. “Yup. Him and Robbie were arguing more and more then he pulled a you and stormed off set. It’s just him and his agent now. He isn’t signing on to just one production company anymore. Don’t be surprised if you see him sellin’ tricks on Figueroa.”

A frown tugs at your lips, the bittersweet news settling in your chest. You can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Javier.

“Why are you askin’? You miss him or somethin’? Thought you were still bangin’ it out with that camera guy from Malibu.” His tone is teasing, reminiscent of a little brother trying to get under your skin.

You snort, rolling your eyes and collecting the empty glasses into a plastic bin. “ I’m just surprised. This is like, his whole thing.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, he hasn’t been working as much. I’ve never seen the guy be this… still. Told him maybe it’s a good thing—he can finally chill the fuck out and give his dick a break.”

You can’t help but laugh, handing him another beer. “I can’t even imagine what else he’d do. Can you seriously picture Javier Peña working a 9 to 5?”

Steve grins, scratching his chin as if pondering the idea. “I dunno, he could be a good car salesman. Maybe even insurance?”

You both chuckle, but as you excuse yourself to put away the dirty dishes, your mind lingers on Javier. It’s like a weird domino effect: your departure had shaken things up, and now a small part of you feels somewhat responsible for this mess.

No, you shouldn’t feel this way. He’ll figure it out. You really shouldn’t waste this much time ‘worrying’ about him. He means nothing to you. End of story.

The rest of your shift flows smoothly, and you end up pocketing more tips than you anticipated. Even the late hour—almost four in the morning—doesn’t faze you as you and Connie finish cleaning up and closing.

“You can stay the night if you want. I’m sure you don’t want to wait for the bus this late,” you suggest, watching her mop with a satisfied smile.

“Actually…” She pauses, wringing out the mop head. Your brows raise at her tone, and she bites her lip. “My ride is waiting for me out front.”

You piece it together in an instant, halting mid-count of the twenty-dollar bills. “No way, you finally gave in to Steve!”

Connie’s face lights up with a sheepish smile. “I thought he was cute since day one. I just couldn’t let him get to me so easily. Play hard to get, you know? See if he really wanted me as badly as he said he did.”

You hum, shaking your head with a grin as you resume counting. “Atta girl. Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.”

As you finish up, you hug Connie goodbye, watching as she excitedly jumps into Steve’s Jeep. You trudge up the creaky stairs to your place, feeling a bit lonely now.

The remnants of Frankie’s presence linger in your cramped apartment: his side of the bed still mussed, a crumpled T-shirt on the floor, and takeaway containers from earlier scattered on your small kitchen table.

With a sigh, you take off your cat ears and head straight for the shower, hoping to wash away the lingering thoughts of both Javier and Frankie before slipping into the quiet of your own bed.

Frankie stands in your living room, his expression serious but soft, while you sit on the couch, staring up at him.

You foolishly didn’t think this would happen—at least not this soon, only two months in. His words are steady, measured, like he’s practiced this. “Elliana’s mom and I… we’re trying to work things out.”

The lump in your throat rises, but you refuse to let it crack your voice. You won’t give in to the urge to cry. It’s not like you didn’t expect this on some level—dating a man with a child meant his ex would always be in the picture. And now, she’s front and center. 

“I understand…”

He exhales deeply at seeing you like this. He sits next to you, close but not invasive, and his presence—still so familiar—only sharpens the ache. You don’t pull away, though everything inside you screams to. Even if this is the right way to end things, you have every right to feel a sting. 

You weren’t serious-serious, but you’d gotten used to him. His easy warmth, the random dates that brightened your week, the small slice of domesticity you didn’t realize you’d grown to like. And the sex… God, you’re not ready to give that up, either. 

“I didn’t mess around with her while we were together. You have to know that,” he adds, his voice low, calm, as if trying to make sure you’re not left with any doubts. He rests his hand on your knee, grounding you in the moment, though you wish he wouldn’t. 

“I know you’re not that guy, Frankie. It just sucks being broken up with,” you say, forcing a smile, lightening your tone as if to keep the tears at bay.

He sighs again, his big brown eyes—those damn puppy eyes—locking onto yours. “I really enjoyed my time with you,” he says, sounding sincere. “It was great. You’re great.”

You nod, just wanting this to be over so you can sink yourself into your sheets and rot for the rest of the day. 

“Likewise, Frankie. Now go make sure your daughter’s got a stable home to grow up in.” You try to smile again, but it’s weaker this time. He can see through it, you know, but he nods anyway.

You walk him to the door, making a quick detour to your bedroom to gather the few t-shirts he’s left behind. When you hand them to him, he grins, trying to lift the mood. “So that’s where these went.”

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a t-shirt hoarder,” you joke back, your voice hollow.

He pauses at the door, his eyes lingering on you longer than you’d like.

“Take care of yourself.”

“You too, hermosa,” he replies, the affection in the word making your heart squeeze.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, you let yourself collapse against it, sliding down until you’re sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to your chest. The tears come silently at first, just a slow trickle, but soon they’re streaking down your cheeks as you curl into yourself.

You hate dating. You’ve always hated it. It feels like a cycle of disappointments: either you’re stuck with some dud or, worse, you find someone worth a damn, and they leave anyway. 

After crying it out for a few minutes, you force yourself to wipe away the tears. The ache in your chest lingers, but you’re determined to distract yourself, dragging your feet over to the entertainment center. Your hand glides over the familiar spines of DVDs and VHS tapes, searching for the right kind of escape, something to pair with the bottle of wine you’ll snag from downstairs.

You reach the end of the row and stop on Pretty Woman, about to pull it out, when your fingers brush against a few unmarked DVDs shoved haphazardly in the back. Curious, you pull them out, and your breath hitches.

They’re your old shoots—the first ones you ever did with Javier. The raunchy titles leap out at you, and suddenly, memories of being on set with him flood back. The chemistry, the heat, the way he looked at you when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Your pulse quickens. You should put them back. But you don’t. You weren’t prepared for this— especially not today, freshly dumped, on the verge of a sexual drought, and with your head all messed up.

Fuck it, you have nothing to lose, so you randomly pick one. Pretty Woman gets shoved aside as you clutch the DVD case, a weird thrill running through you.

As if possessed, you march to your bedside table in your bedroom, frantically rummaging for your long-neglected vibrator. It’s been gathering dust since Frankie showed up, but now… now you’re hoping, praying it still works. When you finally find it, you flip it on, and the gentle hum tells you it’s fully charged.

Thank you, past me. You have no idea how much present me needs this.

With a deep breath, you return to the living room and pop the DVD into the player. The screen flickers to life, and you settle onto the couch, heart pounding in your chest as the film begins. 

The anticipation builds as the usual no-piracy warning flashes on the screen, followed by the production company’s intro. Finally, the familiar jazzy porn music kicks in, setting the mood for what’s to come.

You can already feel your pulse racing, knowing what’s next. This one, you remember—it was one of the first outdoor scenes you shot.

The setup was simple, classic: a woman stranded on the side of the road due to car trouble, waiting for a tow truck to save her. The main star, gorgeous as ever, is dressed provocatively in a tiny miniskirt, platform flip-flops, and a tube top that screams easy access. The camera lingers over her, capturing every curve of her body as she fakes helplessness, playing her role perfectly.

Then comes the rumble of the tow truck, and Javier steps out, looking rugged and sexy in dirty jeans and a rumpled denim shirt with a generic towing company patch stitched onto it. His presence alone is enough to make your skin prickle with heat.

“Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be stuck out here like this,” his voice fills the room. God, you hate to admit it, but you’ve missed hearing him—his smooth tone, the way he used to make every line sound like a promise.

Maybe it’s the leftover emotion from Frankie’s breakup that’s doing this to you, making you feel too much.

“Thank goodness you’re here to help me out. I just... I don’t have any money on me right now to pay for it,” the woman pouts, lips glossy, eyes fluttering up at him like she’s the most innocent thing alive.

Javier cocks his head, eyes traveling over her like she’s a piece of candy. “Don’t worry,” he says, that signature smirk appearing on his face. “I think we can figure something out.”

And just like that, they’re fucking. Raw, desperate sex. He has her spread out on the hood of the car, and her tits bounce with every hard thrust. Javier holds her legs wide open, his rough hands gripping her thighs as he slams into her.

The scene is pure, animalistic lust, and it has your head spinning.

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your moans mix with theirs from the TV, and the steady buzz of your vibrator pulses deep inside you. You match the rhythm of Javier’s thrusts, watching as he pistons his cock in and out of her, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling your living room.

You remember that day on set vividly. You’d been sick, your body still sore from the remnants of a cold, and you’d been eager to get it over with so you could go home and collapse into a warm bowl of pho.

But now, watching the scene play out in front of you, it’s like you’re seeing it for the first time—every detail heightened, every movement burned into your mind.

Javier’s fingers dig into her skin as he holds her in place, his hips grinding into her with force. Her face twists in bliss, and you can’t help but imagine what that must feel like, that deep, toe-curling sensation as he hits just the right spot. You let out another moan, the vibrator buzzing relentlessly as you try to keep up with the scene, your hips rocking in time with theirs.

When he leans down, wrapping his lips around her nipple, it’s like you can feel the phantom of his mouth on your own skin. You bring a hand up to your chest, pinching and twisting your nipple, slicking your fingers with spit to heighten the sensation. It’s almost too much, but you can’t stop yourself.

Your breathing quickens as you turn up the setting on the vibrator, the pleasure building, your back bending off the couch. You close your eyes and let your imagination take over, the image of Javier on top of you searing into your mind—his body, hot and heavy, pressing against yours, his teeth grazing your neck, his hands everywhere at once. You can feel him, hear the grunts and groans from the screen, but in your mind, it’s all for you.

“Nena, look at you,” Javier’s voice murmurs, low and rough in your mind, as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, his words melting into your skin like liquid heat. “Told you you’d look so beautiful spread out like this, taking my cock so well.”

A sharp gasp escapes you, your breath catching in your throat as your pussy clenches tightly around the vibrator, which suddenly feels less like a toy and more like him—big, thick, and filling you completely. You can almost feel the weight of him pressing against you, the way his cock would stretch you just right. Your lips part, another whimper escaping as the scene in your head becomes even more vivid.

“And those noises you’re making?” His voice, rich and dripping with desire, keeps echoing through your thoughts. “Baby, you drive me fucking,” his hips snap forward in your imagination, rough and unrelenting, “crazy,” another thrust sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. Your neck arches back, exposing your throat like you’re inviting him to claim you, his mouth finding the sensitive skin behind your ear, marking you, biting you. His lips would feel so good, so possessive, leaving trails of heat wherever they touch.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers against your skin, his breath hot in your ear. “Even after not seeing your pretty face for two months, all I see when I close my eyes is you.”

His teeth graze your earlobe, and it sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Your hand moves from your breast down to your clit, fingers rubbing the tender nub with an urgency you can’t hold back any longer. You’re so close, so fucking close. 

“Oh, J-Javi,” you cry out, your voice breaking. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”

The orgasm slams into you, cutting off your words, drowning your thoughts in white-hot pleasure. Your body spasms uncontrollably, juices dripping down as your vibrator hums between your legs. You’re shaking, utterly spent, your breath ragged, skin on fire.

“Good girl, nenita,” his voice purrs, the Spanish rolling off his tongue like honey. “Mira que belleza. It’s okay, I got you.”

It takes a moment for reality to snap back into place, the haze of pleasure lifting just enough for you to realize that he didn’t say it at all. It was the Javier on the screen, whispering sweet praise to the actress as he fucked her.

You lay there, boneless, too tired to care as the movie continues to play. But something feels off now, a strange sense of emptiness replacing the satisfaction you usually feel.

You pull the vibrator from between your legs, the wetness from your climax glistening on it as you flick the switch off and toss it carelessly onto the coffee table. You’ll clean it later.

Your body slumps against the cushions, head falling into your hands. “What the fuck did you just do?” You whisper to yourself.

Watching porn to get off? That’s normal, right? It’s what it’s made for. Lots of people do it. So why do you feel so… guilty? Is it because it was Javier? Of course it is. No matter how hard you try to push him out of your mind, he always finds a way back in—whether he’s there in front of you, or haunting you in the fantasies, you can’t seem to put him to rest.

And the timing? Not even an hour after being broken up with, and already you’ve let him worm his way back into your head, back into your body. It’s like he’s got you tangled up, literally and figuratively, even when he’s not here.

Unable to take any more of their exaggerated moans and whimpers, you reach for the remote and switch off the TV, the screen going dark as you eject the disc and shove it back into its case. You finally grab Pretty Woman, tossing it into the player without much thought, your head still spinning.

It’s only then that you remember the wine, the one thing that might actually help clear your head. You stand, sluggish and sore, pulling your clothes back on and heading downstairs to fetch that much-needed bottle, your thoughts still racing, still trying to untangle the mess that is Javier Peña lodged firmly in your mind.

“Just know, I didn’t plan this.”

Steve’s words make you squint in suspicion as he slides onto the barstool next to you, his usual spot. You’re about to ask what he means when your heart plummets—there he is. The familiar broad frame of the handsome man you’ve been trying—and failing—to scrub from your mind ever since your breakup two weeks ago. Hell, before then too.

“What’s he doing here?” you hiss, shooting Steve a glare so sharp it could cut glass.

“He caught me off guard, okay? Basically invited himself. Don’t make it weird,” he mutters, clearly trying to avoid your wrath.

You bite down hard on your tongue, trying to keep your frustration in check. But then your gaze collides with Javier’s, and it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you.

Those deep brown eyes, glinting beneath the dim lighting, pin you in place, stirring up everything you’ve been trying to bury. It’s infuriating how he seems even more attractive than the last time you saw him, like life just decided to up the ante on making him impossible to forget.

Clearing your throat, you force yourself to look away, frantically trying to busy your hands. Anything to keep from talking to him. But it’s hard to focus when every cell in your body is hyper-aware of his presence just a few feet away.

“I’m going on break!” Connie’s chirpy voice feels like nails on a chalkboard, and you don’t miss the way she winks at Steve before grabbing his arm and leading him to the back.

Ah, so that’s why he’s here earlier than usual. 

“Thirty minutes!” You shout after her, but your heart’s not in it. You’re too preoccupied with the fact that you’re now alone at the bar with Javier and a few of the happy hour regulars.

He leans forward on his elbows, casual but impossibly magnetic in a jean jacket and a cream-colored shirt. His sunglasses hang from the unbuttoned portion near his collarbones, and you can smell that familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cologne that’s been seared into your memory. “So this is the illustrious Lucky’s,” he says, his deep voice wrapping around you like a slow burn.

“The one and only,” you manage to reply, keeping your tone clipped.

“Been doin’ okay?”

“I’ve been managing.” Your words come out a little too quick, a little too defensive, but you can’t help it. 

He tilts his head, his gaze steady. “Still seeing that guy?”

There’s an unmistakable tinge of jealousy laced in his voice, and your heart skips a beat. You meet his eyes for a moment before going back to drying the cheap chalices your boss insisted on for an upcoming theme night.

“That guy has a name,” you correct him coolly. “But no. That ship sailed two weeks ago.”

A low hum escapes his throat, and he drums his fingers lightly against the countertop. “A shame.”

“Can I get you anything?” You ask, a little too forcefully. The question feels like a challenge, and from the way his eyes glint, you know he feels it too.

He lets the tension simmer between you for a moment before finally answering, “Just a Corona.”

“Lime?” 

“Of course, nena.”

That fucking term of endearment hits you like a punch to the gut. It’s what he’s always called you, ever since the very first time you met. And damn it, it’s the same name he whispers in your ear when you imagine him thrusting balls deep inside you, filling you with every inch of his cock.

Your breath hitches before you can stop it, the heat rising in your cheeks as you fumble for a lime. You slice it, hands shaking ever so slightly as you wedge it into the bottle, sliding it across the bar to him.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you, his gaze burning with the unspoken tension that always builds when you’re around each other.

You can feel it too—the weight of all the unsaid things hanging in the air. All the desire. All the frustration.

He thanks you softly. “So, Steve finally got himself a girl.” He tries to continue the mundane conversation, amused as he leans in, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You try not to notice the way his neck muscles work when he takes a sip of his beer, but it’s impossible not to. You hate the way your body responds, the small flutter in your stomach that you wish would just stop.

“Yeah, he’s been chasing her for months, and she finally gave in. Probably the best thing that could’ve happened for both of them.”

A patron calls for your attention, and you gladly take the opportunity to escape the moment, throwing yourself into mixing a drink with practiced ease. But even as you pour and stir, you feel his eyes on you.

“You look happier here.” His voice breaks the silence when you return, the words almost lazy as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Fake happiness. It’s what gets the tips.”

“Okay, yeah, sure,” he says, leaning in a little, eyes narrowing. “But the way you’re moving back there—you know what you’re doing. I don’t think I ever saw you crack a single smile while we were on set.”

“I did,” you shoot back, feeling your pulse quicken. “Just none of them were directed at you.” The animosity in your tone surprises even you, and you catch the way his brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his face.

You quickly smooth it over with a smirk. “Besides, not much to smile about when people are getting fucked stupid in front of a camera.”

“Back to the familiar song and dance, huh?” His voice is steady, but there’s a sharpness beneath the surface.

You scoff, shaking your head as you wipe your hands on your apron. “What are you doing here, Javier?” This time, the question comes out more straight to the point.

He looks at you for a beat, partially confused, “Drinking a beer…”

“At this specific bar, where I’ve worked for two years and you’ve never once showed up until today. Why?” 

For a moment, the two of you stare at each other, locked in a silent standoff. He’s reading you just as you’re trying to read him, both of you too proud—or too scared—to make the next move. Finally, he breaks the silence.

“You want the truth?”

“That’s why I asked.”

“I’ve missed you, nena.”

Your stomach drops and you force yourself to keep your face neutral, but it’s hard. “I regret asking,” you mutter, glancing at your watch. Connie has fifteen minutes left on her break, then you’re done for the night. You’ll be free—at least from the bar, if not from the weight of this conversation.

“Ever since you left,” he continues, not giving you the out you desperately want, “I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re so standoffish. You say it’s because you don’t like me, but I just don’t think that’s true.”

“Well,” you bite out, “assuming has never gotten you anywhere worth being at, right?”

He rubs a hand over his mustache. He’s thinking, trying to find the right words.

“Right,” he finally agrees, tone softer now, more thoughtful. “Listen, I’ve never been good at the whole… talking thing. It’s been my downfall for as long as I can remember.”

Despite yourself, you give him a look that encourages him to keep going.

“And the shit between us? It’s weird. I’d like to move on, but I can’t. You’ve somehow managed to get into every fucking corner of my mind, and no matter what I do, I can’t shake you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You suck in a sharp breath, your fingers gripping the wooden countertop. His words hit too close to home because they echo the feelings you’ve been wrestling with since you walked away from him.

Do you admit it? Do you tell him that he’s been haunting your thoughts just as much? Or do you keep it all locked up, close to your chest, where it’s safe and won’t blow up in your face later?

“What do you really want, Javier?” You don’t have time for games, and if he’s here to throw another curveball into your life, you’d rather snip it before it gets any worse.

He pauses, running a hand through his hair, then looks back at you with an expression you haven’t seen in a while—one that’s sincere. “I just want a moment to talk to you,” he says softly. “No bullshit this time. Just you and me.”

You wrestle with yourself, unsure if you want to give in. You’ve heard him talk like this before, but something feels different. He seems like he’s laying all his cards out, but you’ve been hurt enough to know better than to let your guard down too quickly.

Your eyes flick to the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until your shift ends. You chew on your lip, deliberating with yourself, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you try to make a decision.

Finally, after a beat, you let out a long breath and nod. “I’m off in twenty minutes,” you say, voice steady. “We can talk at my place, but this is the last time we have this conversation, Javier. No more of this back and forth.”

His face lights up, unmistakably relieved, and for a second, you see that glimmer of hope in his eyes. He sits a little taller, less tense, and his smile is soft but genuine. “Thank you,” he says, almost under his breath, like he wasn’t sure you’d agree. “I parked a few blocks down. I can come get you—”

You cut him off, pointing upward. “I live upstairs.”

Javier blinks, then chuckles, the tension between you easing slightly with that simple realization. “Oh,” he says, a little sheepish. “Okay.” For some reason, that small exchange makes both of you laugh—genuine, real laughter, the kind you haven’t shared in a while. It’s a brief moment of lightness before the weight of everything settles back in.

But before either of you can say more, you’re pulled back to the present as the place picks up with a small rush. The door swings open, and a few regulars take their usual spots, dragging you back into your role behind the bar. Javier moves out of the way, leaning back against his stool, watching you as you work.

It doesn’t take long for Connie to return, looking slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed from whatever she and Steve were up to in the back. You raise an eyebrow, giving her a teasing smirk as she approaches. “Thirty minutes, huh? You sure you didn’t need forty?” You quip, poking fun at her the same way she did to you on Halloween night.

She narrows her eyes at you, but there’s a playful glint in them. “Shut up,” she mutters, straightening her apron. “You know I could’ve dragged it out longer if I wanted.”

You shake your head, chuckling as you hand over the bar to the guy coming in to replace you. Your shift is finally over, and you can feel the tension easing from your shoulders. With one last glance at the clock, you turn toward Javier, who’s still waiting, watching you with that familiar intensity.

“Ready?” you ask, your voice more casual than you feel.

He nods, pushing off the counter to follow you out. Thankfully, Steve had left, but as you pass Connie, you don’t miss the way her eyes widen when she sees the sexy guy trailing behind you. She gives you a look—half amused, half impressed—and you can practically hear her thoughts.

You give her a small wave, shrugging off her knowing smirk as you push through the door, stepping out into the cool evening air.

He follows behind you silently as you climb the narrow staircase to your apartment, the low hum of the bar fading with each step. You can feel his presence like a warm current, that quiet intensity that always seems to wrap around you when he’s near. The proximity makes you hyper-aware of every sound—the creak of the steps beneath your feet, the soft rustle of his jacket as he moves, his shaky breaths from his lungs working overtime due to his constant smoking.

When you finally reach the top and push the door open, you step aside to let him in. He takes a slow look around, his eyes sweeping over the small but cozy space. Despite its shabby appearance—the chipped paint on the walls, the secondhand furniture—it’s undeniably yours.

The throw blankets on the couch, the mismatched mugs on the kitchen counter, the books scattered about. It’s lived-in and comfortable, and you catch the way Javier’s lips twitch in what might be a smile as he takes it all in.

“Okay,” you say, arms crossing as you stand by the kitchenette, keeping a reasonable distance between you. “What now? We’re here. It’s just me and you. What do you have to say to me?”

He hesitates for a moment, running a hand through his hair like he’s bracing himself. Then, he just… spills his guts. “I want you to give me one chance. Just one date,” he says, the words tumbling out faster than you expect. “I know I’ve screwed up before, and I know I’ve been cocky, but… I like you. Like, really like you. More than I’ve let on.”

You blink quickly. You weren’t expecting this—certainly not Javier Peña, of all people, to stand in your apartment and confess to having a legitimate crush on you. “No way,” you mutter, in time with your thoughts, a nervous giggle escaping before you can stop it.

It sounds ridiculous in your head, and even more absurd out loud. He likes you? He doesn’t even know you!

His frown deepens, his jaw tightening as if your reaction stings. “I’m serious,” he’s insistent, his dark eyes locking with yours.

You shake your head, still struggling to process this. “You just got tired of screwing around with all the pretty stars, so now you’re going after someone different. Trying a new flavor of the month by chasing after a girl on the crew.”

“Technically, you’re not on the crew anymore—” he starts, but cuts himself off when he sees the daggers you’re sending him.

He steps a little closer, his tone quieter but more earnest. “You told me earlier that assuming has never gotten me anywhere worth being at. So take your own advice, nena, and stop assuming I’m chasing after you for all the wrong reasons.”

There’s no trace of his usual bravado, no cocky grin or smooth line to disarm you. Just sincerity. And it’s that, more than anything, that makes you pause. For real this time.

“So I’m not just someone to scratch off your list?” You ask, daring him to lie.  

“Wha— no.”

“You really mean it?”  

“Do I need to get on my knees to convince you I’m serious?”  

“That’d be the least serious thing you could do.”  

His mouth twitches up into a half smirk. “So? Will you let me take you out?”

This feels like if you so much as blink, the moment will dissolve—nothing but smoke and mirrors. 

“Okay,” you breathe. “But if it doesn’t work out… then that’s it. You don’t come around here again. You leave me alone. For good.”  

His eyes narrow, but he nods, accepting the ultimatum.  

“Fair enough.” His voice dips into something dark and velvety, a timbre that’s all too familiar. It’s the same voice you’ve heard behind the camera, in the tape that you got yourself off to—low, coaxing, a caress in itself. And damn him, it’s working on you again. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”  

“When?” You ask him.

“You’re the one who works weekends. You tell me.”

“Next Saturday?” You offer, trying to sound casual.

“It’s a date.”  

A flutter of nerves skitters through your chest and you almost laugh again, so giddy, but you clamp down on it.

“Alright... I’ll walk you out.” Your voice sounds awkward to your own ears, but your feet stay rooted to the spot. So does he.  

His gaze sharpens. “You know,” he starts, rubbing his jaw in that infuriatingly familiar way, “Robbie kept saying you ‘broke’ me after that Malibu shoot with Mariella.” He air quotes broke and your expression turns confused.

“Well… he’s an idiot.”  

“He’s not wrong, though,” Javi murmurs, stepping closer, the space between you vanishing.  

Your breath hitches. “Javi…” you warn, but it sounds weak—like a plea dressed as a protest.  

“You were right.” His voice dips again, softer now, but no less dangerous. “Sleeping with barely-legal girls felt... wrong. The whole scene was just fucked. It took me too long to realize it.” He leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “But that’s not what broke me.”  

Your pulse stutters. “Then what?”  

“You,” he whispers, moving closer, until the heat of his body presses against yours. “Your voice. Your eyes.” His gaze dips to your mouth, and your knees threaten to give out. “Those soft lips you won’t let me kiss absolutely fucking broke me.”

Your lower back presses hard against the counter, pinned by the sheer gravity of him closing in. His scent is dizzying.  

Your nipples harden, tightening with each shallow breath you take, the heat between you wrapping around your body like a fever. Now that you’ve stopped fighting it, the tide of lust pulls you under, dragging you into the undertow.

He can’t just say these things to you and expect you to remain sane. Especially not after all your wet dreams he’s been the star of.

“The others don’t do it for me anymore and I’m not popping a pill to get fuckin’ hard.” He cages you in, planting both hands on the counter at your sides. His arms flex, his body crowding yours, then he leans in, his nose brushing the tip of yours in the kind of touch that feels both too soft and too intimate.

“Just standing here with you…” His hips roll forward, pressing against you. The solid ridge of his cock rubs against your stomach through his jeans, and the friction sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core.

You gasp, lips parting as you go weak.

“Oh…” you breathe, shakily, your voice barely more than a whimper. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to keep some semblance of control, but his gaze locks onto the movement.

“I want to take care of you, nena. Por favor.” His voice drips with need, every word laced with intent. “Let me make you feel good again. I need to make you feel good.”

Memories flash like lightning—the way his mouth felt between your thighs and how it left such an impression that you quit your fucking job (okay maybe not because of that necessarily but it was a butterfly effect)

“Javi…” Your voice is a strained warning, as you press your hand to his shoulder, ready to push him back if you needed to throw some metaphorical ice on this heated moment to chill both of you the fuck out. “I’m not going to fuck you right now.”

“I’m not asking you to…” His hand comes up to take yours at his shoulder into his, bringing it up to his lips to give it a gentle kiss.

God, you just about come right then and there.

“You want to go down on me again?”

He groans, his mouth grazing your knuckles as if tasting you again. “I’ll always want that. Always.” His voice is strained. “But tonight, pretty girl, I just—fuck—I need to feel you.”

“But you just said—”

“I know baby,” he cradles your face and you let him, horny out of your mind and absolutely under his spell. “Just let me put the tip in.”

“What?” You ask, moving back from him to stare up into his eyes.

“The head of my cock. Let me put it in and feel how wet and warm you are.” 

Your thighs clench instinctively, the ache between them growing unbearable. Images of his cock flood your mind—thick, veined, and heavy, flashing like a montage you can’t shake.

The thought of him, so close, pressing inside just enough to tease, makes your breath catch in your throat.

“I-I’ve never done that before... isn’t that—” You shake your head, struggling to wrap your mind around the idea.

“It’ll feel so good, I promise. If you don’t like it I’ll pull out and leave.”

His eyes still hold that sincerity from before, and it tugs at your heart, which has moved its pulse downstairs at the thought of feeling just a little bit of him.

It’s intoxicating, giving you the power to decide just how much of him you’ll take. How deep he’ll bury himself. How much you’ll let him fuck into you. 

A moan slips from your lips, unbidden, and his eyes darken, his jaw tightening at the sound. He’s holding back, but barely—waiting, craving, needing your consent like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality.

“Fuck,” you whisper, already lost. “Whatever, just do it. Do it before I change my mind.”

You squeal as he spins you around, your hands coming up to steady yourself against the counter.

You went out and bought a mini denim skirt after seeing it on the pornstar he fucked in the tow truck scene because you thought it was cute, and now you’re sort of living out that fantasy here with him as he pushes it up high on your hips, exposing your very lackluster underwear.

“Damn…” His hands are all over you, kneading your ass, the rough squeeze of his palms making you whine, back arching instinctively for more. “These are hot as fuck.”

Your cheeks heat up, because no way he thinks your mauve colored hipsters are hot.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband and drags them down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles. You step out of them, still in your sneakers, feeling utterly exposed. But the way he looks at you makes you feel desired.

With a firm hand, he presses against the small of your back, coaxing you into a deeper arch. His hands glide down your thighs, strong fingers gripping where your knee bends, lifting your leg and placing it on the counter. The shift spreads you open for him, your slick, swollen folds glistening in the dim light.

“Fuck...” His voice is pure gravel, rough with need, as he drinks in the sight of you. And then he drops to his knees, right behind you, and buries his face between your legs.

“Oh my—fuck!” you cry, jerking forward against the counter, totally unprepared for the onslaught of his tongue.

He doesn’t hold back—doesn’t ease you into it—just dives in like a man possessed, his mouth working you over with fervor. The obscene sounds of his tongue dragging through your wetness and the desperate groans vibrating from his throat make your head spin. You’re shaking, trying to catch your breath, but it’s useless with the way he devours you.

He licks every inch of your pussy, his tongue flat and broad one second, sharp and focused the next, flicking across your clit with precision. When he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, the wet suction sends sparks shooting through your body.

Your forehead thuds against the cabinet in front of you as you babble out his name in breathless, broken curses, pleasure building in tight, pulsing waves. Your legs tremble under his relentless attention, and it feels like he’s not just eating you out—he’s worshiping you, savoring every moment like a man starved.

“Javi—oh my—fuck!” You can barely string two words together, the intensity of it dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he buries his face deeper, groaning like he can’t get enough of you. And god dammit, you love it. You love the way he’s lost in you, the way his tongue moves like he knows exactly how to pull you apart. It’s filthy, messy, perfect.

He pulls back after a few minutes, reluctantly breaking away from the warmth of you, even though every fiber in his body begs him to stay—tongue, nose, and fingers lost in your sweetness for hours, watching you unravel again and again. He forces himself to move, savoring the way your breath stutters in frustration at the loss.  

The soft metallic clink of his belt buckle being undone makes your heart race, and your pussy clenches reflexively, aching to be filled.  

“Mmm, she’s ready for me, isn’t she?” He’s so smug, watching the way your cunt flutters at the mere thought of his cock sliding inside you. Even just the tip.  

You don’t answer—you can’t answer. The anticipation has stolen every word, every coherent thought from your brain. All you hear is the pounding rush of blood in your ears.

Javier steps in closer, the heat of his body pressing against your back. His hand snakes around you, rough fingers brushing your chin before hovering just beneath your lips.  

“Spit,” he commands, his tone low and firm.  

Like the desperate thing you are, you part your lips without hesitation, letting a hot thread of saliva drip into his waiting palm.  

A deep, approving grunt rumbles from his chest. “Good girl.”  

Your cheeks burn at the praise, and you clench again as he takes your offering, wrapping his wet palm around the thick length of his cock. He strokes himself slowly, hissing through his teeth, the slick sound of his fist dragging over his shaft making your breath hitch.  

Then, without warning, you feel the velvety head of his cock glide through the slick folds of your cunt.  

Both of you shudder—your soft whimper mingling with his guttural groan.  

He drags the swollen tip along your slit, gathering your arousal, and when he nudges it against your throbbing clit, your hips jerk instinctively.  

“Relax, bella,” he warns, his hand tightening on your waist to steady you. “Unless you want me to bust my load all over this pretty clit right now.”  

That filthy mouth of his makes you want to slap him—and kiss him—until you both can’t breathe.  

He keeps teasing you both, swirling the sensitive head over your clit again, tapping it lightly against the swollen bundle of nerves. Your thighs tremble with need, and your pussy clenches again, desperate to take him inside.  

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice gravelly with restraint as he lines himself up with your entrance. “So fucking wet…”  

He tilts his hips just enough to press the head of his cock against your dripping hole, and you gasp, your body instinctively arching toward him.  

“¿Lista?” he whispers, his voice softer now, more intimate. He leans in, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck, trailing gentle kisses over your skin between ragged breaths.  

You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to form words.  

Then, slowly—achingly slow—he pushes the tip inside.  

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear.  

A sharp, breathless moan escapes you as he stretches you open, your cunt greedily sucking him in. The sensation is electric, overwhelming—just enough to tease, just enough to leave you craving more.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream. Why the fuck does this feel so good?

Javier groans, forehead pressed to your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as he fights to keep from plunging deeper. “Puta madre nenita, this pussy esta tan rica.” 

He stills, savoring the way your tight heat wraps around just the tip of him. His blunt fingernails dig into the skin of your hips as he struggles to keep his hips from moving.

But you can’t help it. Your hips move on their own, rolling back just enough to take more of him inside, the smooth slide of his length sending sparks through your body. A whimper slips from your lips as your walls clench around what little of him you have, the stretch so good it has your eyes fluttering shut, your head tipping forward.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” he growls, low and dangerous, and the sound of it shoots straight to your cunt.

You whine softly, biting your lip, as he drags the inches you stole back out, leaving just the swollen head nestled at your entrance. The tease is unbearable, like dangling water in front of someone dying of thirst.

“Javi, I can’t help it,” you moan, the frustration bubbling over into a pout. Your hand drifts down between your thighs, fingers brushing your slick, needy clit. You need something—anything—to relieve the pressure.

His hand is lightning fast, grabbing your wrist and yanking it back to the counter. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He sounds almost offended.

“I need to feel something,” you whimper, shifting your hips desperately against him.

He clicks his tongue, as if scolding you, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re already feeling the head of this cock, aren’t you? And you’re still being greedy, trying to touch this pretty little pussy after I told you I’d take care of you.”

His hand slides from your waist, gliding lower, fingers hovering just above where you need him most. The promise of his touch makes your thighs quiver, and you let out a desperate little whine, arching your back in a silent plea.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice low and rough, thick with control barely held in check.

You know exactly what he looks like—jaw tight, eyes burning with hunger, teeth gritted as he holds back from sinking all the way into you. And it makes you ache even more.

“Touch me, Javi, please,” you beg, your voice a breathy, needy little mewl. You throw your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, batting your lashes shamelessly.

A low, satisfied hum vibrates from his chest, and his fingers finally press against your slick, swollen folds. He groans softly as he feels how you’re stretching around the head of his cock, his fingertips tracing the puffy lips before circling lazily over your throbbing clit.

“Ohhh, just like that,” you moan, the sound slipping from you naturally, raw and unfiltered—nothing like the exaggerated performances he’s used to. This is real, and it only makes him harder.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck, “I can’t wait to ruin this pussy, nenita. Gonna make you feel better than any malparido before me.”

His fingers keep working your clit, slow and steady, each stroke dragging you closer to madness. Your hips start to grind against his hand and the blunt head of his cock, desperate for more, for everything.

And the way he’s talking—like you’re his to wreck, his to please—makes you feel like you’ll lose your mind.

You suck in a sharp breath, feeling the jealousy dancing on his fingertips as he works your clit faster, his movements switching between precision and wild hunger.

He rolls the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it just hard enough to make you gasp. Then, his touch softens—soothing circles, spreading your slick everywhere—before he tugs at your swollen nub, sending shocks of pleasure deep into your core, like fireworks are exploding down there.

“Tell me,” he growls, voice rough with possessiveness. “Did he fuck you good?”

The blunt tip of his cock stays snug at your entrance, and every pinch, every flick of his fingers makes your walls clench greedily around it, desperate for more.

“W-Who?” you whimper, genuinely lost in the haze of his touch. Your mind has melted, everything but the sensations he’s feeding you slipping away like vapor.

That answer pleases him—makes something wicked curl in his chest. His grin presses against your neck, and the wet heat of his tongue drags a slow, deliberate stripe along your skin. Then, he bites down, sucking hard, marking you in that one spot you’ve only ever dreamt of him nipping at.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, voice dripping with satisfaction.

Your hand finds his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands, tugging hard enough to make him groan against your neck. The heat swirling in your belly tightens to a near-breaking point, your orgasm creeping up on you with every flick of his relentless fingers.

“Javi—fuck—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, voice breaking, sounding needy and pitiful.

“I know, baby,” he rasps. “I can feel her gettin’ all tight and messy for me. C’mon, nena, let it happen. I’ve got you.”

He keeps his pace steady—no sudden changes, no wild moves—just the same focused rhythm he’s built up, making your nerves sing, each flick and stroke a perfectly calibrated promise of release.

Your body responds like it always does for him: beautifully. His name falls from your lips like a sweet song. Your hips grind instinctively, chasing the steady friction of his slick fingers.

“More, Javi—oh, please—more,” you gasp, knowing exactly what you need, what only he can give you. You’re ready for him to shove deep inside, to fill you, stretch you, ruin you with the thick cock still teasing your entrance.

If you had said this maybe five minutes ago, he would have obliged, but he’s got a point to prove now. And that point is restraint—his self control.

“Not tonight, pretty girl,” he murmurs darkly, laden with lust and dominance. “You’re gonna come just like this.”

Then, without warning, his hand shifts, and he slaps your pussy—once, twice, three times. The sound is wet and obscene, and the sharp sting sends a shockwave straight to your core.

That’s what breaks you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a violent, unstoppable wave, ripping through your body with terrifying force.

“Fuck—Javi!” you scream, your walls fluttering and pulsing wildly around the head of his cock, soaking his hand in your release as your legs threaten to give out beneath you.

He groans, watching you unravel for him, every twitch and spasm feeding his ego. His fingers don’t stop—stroking you through the aftershocks, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from your trembling body.

Your vision swims, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the euphoria leaves you floating, weightless. And even though he hasn’t buried himself inside you like you wanted, somehow, this feels even more intimate—like he’s branded himself into you without needing to fuck you at all.

The way your pussy grips him sends a shudder down his spine, and with a strangled curse, his balls tighten, his climax hot on the heels of yours. 

“Fuck—” he groans, yanking his cock out just in time, the thick spurts of his cum painting your slick, swollen pussy, making a filthy mess.

Both of you pant, trying to catch your breath, the room heavy with the scent of sex. A sharp hiss escapes your lips as his fingers slide lazily through your soaked folds, mixing the remnants of both your pleasure. When he gathers the sticky blend on his fingers and brings them to your mouth, the hunger in his gaze makes your heart race.  

“Have a taste, baby.”

Without hesitation, you part your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them with obscene enthusiasm. You moan at the heady, salty taste—like liquid sin on your tongue. It’s addictive, and you suck greedily until his fingers are spotless, releasing them with a wet pop that makes his eyes darken further.  

You glance up at him over your shoulder, lips slightly swollen from your efforts. 

“You okay?” he asks, his tone soft.

You nod, still dazed, your pulse thrumming beneath your skin. “Better than okay. That was... wow.”  

His soft grin blooms into a cocky smirk, and he helps clean you up before gently moving your leg off the counter. As he tucks himself back into his jeans, you adjust your skirt, smoothing it down with shaky hands.  

“Where are my panties?” you ask, glancing around, still floating in the afterglow.  

He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling them out with a sly grin. “Oh, these?”  

You reach for them, but he swiftly lifts them out of reach.  

“I think I’ll hold onto them.”  

Heat rises to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes at him, but the lazy, satisfied smile on your lips betrays your mock indignation. “Why? Perv.”  

His grin widens, unabashed. “A little memento… to remind me of this. I’ll give them back next Saturday.” He slips them back into his pocket.

You roll your eyes, too blissed out to care. “I can’t believe we just did that.”  

He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you, the warmth of his embrace catching you off guard. After all the resistance you’ve given him, letting him hold you like this feels foreign.

“Told you it’d feel good,” he murmurs smugly, his lips brushing your temple. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to cave first and beg for the whole thing, though.”  

You scoff, giving his hip a playful pinch. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment, okay? You might’ve scored a date and... a semi-fuck, but I’m still sticking to those boundaries. For now.”  

“Does that mean I still can’t kiss you?”  

Oh, hell. He’s already been inside you—well, kind of. What’s one little kiss? But no. You’re trying to make a point here.  

“Nope,” you reply, stopping him with a finger pressed lightly against his lips just as he leans in. “Not until you buy me dinner first.”  

His smirk deepens, and instead of protesting, he kisses the tip of your finger. 

“Deal.”

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories

@greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl .

🏷️ : @pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch

@xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @yxtkiwiyxt . @guelyury . @itwasntimethatdidit40 . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @thundermartini . @correapunk .

[asapstarkey]

It’s Complicated — Rafe Cameron

Introduction

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader

Summary: Years of fooling around with Rafe comes back to bite you in the ass. He will now be a part of your life for the indefinite future. How in the hell are you supposed to do this?

A/N: Watching season 4 got the writing juices flowing and this is what came from it. This is a slowwww burn, but Dad!Rafe incoming. Chapter 1 is in the works. I’ll have it out as soon as possible for you. Thank you for reading!

This was never supposed to happen. How could you let this happen?

You had been playing with fire for too long, sneaking around with Rafe Cameron for years. 2 AM phone calls when he was sick of his girl of the month. Drunken escapades in the back of his car during a party on the beach, or on his boat under the cloak of night as he was coming down off of the cocaine. Just for him to throw you away like trash and treat you like shit, like the filthy Pogue he thought you were.

Though, you couldn’t stop.

He’d catch you when you were alone. Raspy voice and hot breath on your neck. Soft fingertips tracing the curve of your shoulder and down your arm. His cologne intoxicating as he pressed his solid chest against your back.

You were addicted to him like the white powder he loved so much. You couldn’t get enough.

But this was too much. You’d gone too far, been too reckless.

Kiara wasn’t supposed to be home. You could have sworn you would have the Chateau to yourself. You went to your room to change and she went to the bathroom before you could take the trash out.

You exited your room and froze when you saw her standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Your eyes were locked on the little white stick in her hand as she looked at you, disbelief written all over her face and she asked, “(Y/N), what is this?”

You swallowed thickly, feeling like the air was sucked out of your lungs. You wanted to keep this a secret. You weren’t going to tell a soul until you figured out what to do. But Kiara had ruined it. The two bold pink lines stared back at you and you tore your eyes away to meet her worried brown ones. Your voice shook and cracked, just a whisper in the otherwise silent house.

“Please don’t tell my brother.”

Read Chapter One here!

A/N: Add yourself to my taglist for this series if you'd like to be notified when new updates come out! I hope you are all as excited for this series as I am. I'm so glad to be back to writing. Feedback is always appreciated!