#one River might not realize

[championsofthegate]

//if you want to see what the new ones look like Gale and Ayla currently are updated with them!

[oculusxcaro]

Two Truths and a Lie: River will eat anything that isn't tied down and uncooked. River loves to travel by boat. River's favorite color is brown.

Oh hell, which was the right answer here? Khare pursed her lips as she pondered River's question. It was the first time in a while that she'd seen the other woman come back to the diner which was nice, Khare was glad to see her again but she couldn't quite put a finger on what felt off. River seemed to be well fortunately, other than... was that a limp? No, River seemed fine, and there was a bit of a lull right now in the flow of customers so it was nice to catch up, even play a game or two. Khare realized at this moment she didn't know diddly squat about River and the more time that passed, the more it became apparent. Still, that didn't mean she didn't want to try and River had always been kind to her even if maybe gave her a bit of a side eye when being seated. Did River like to travel by boat? It would be punny if she did, being named River and all but Khare didn't think that was the right answer. One time they met outside the diner, it was by Gotham Bay and River looked positively antsy. It wasn't so bad once you got past the smell, but maybe she liked bodies of water elsewhere? "I'm going with that you're not a fan of travelling on boats. That's not to say you eat like a dumpster though," Khare added quickly when she remembered the first of the three statements. Would she really eat anything that wasn't tied down and uncooked? She did look like she worked out... a lot, so Khare brightened, raising a finger knowingly. "But I understand! you must work out a lot to keep such a great figure, so that means... brown's your favourite colour? Funny, I could have sworn it was red..." She didn't know why she thought that, it just didn't seem like brown was a favourite colour of many people. Maybe back in the 70's perhaps, but River was her age or younger... wasn't she? Jerry's voice hollered from the kitchens stating River's breakfast was ready to collect so Khare jumped up to grab it, setting the still-sizzling plate of delicious meat before her customer. Something tasty that was most certainly cooked, as it should be.

[peachybutch]

My personal signature in a piece, any piece, is a character that has to come to terms with the fact that things aren't automatically good after they leave their shitty circumstance. Things aren't perfect. They still struggle to fall asleep, still wake up crying. They still ache, deep down in their bones, and it will probably never go away, not really. They wake up on the morning after the war is over, and they look out over the battlefield, and their life is still destroyed.

But it is better. It's better than it was before. And it's not perfect. It's not even good most days. But it is better, and better is enough.

[dunmeshistash]

One of the things I really appreciate about Dungeon Meshi is how the text is so clearly full of love for animals. Like the true kind of love Laios feels for the monster where he wants to know everything about them, but most of all he respects them and loves them as animals.

One of the chapters I can't stop thinking about is the one about Anne the Kelpie. It's kind of impressive how well it illustrates the different kind of love people have for animals. And how someone that loves an animal isn't necessarily an animal lover. If that makes sense.

When Senshi calls out Anne what he says is "Don't worry Anne's Harmless" but she isn't, she's a wild animal.

Marcille immediately reacts positively about it thinking it's cute she accepts the treat Senshi has for her. And hers and Chilchuck's reaction to Senshi wanting to cross the river on her back is more surprise while Laios immediately realizes how bad of an idea it is.

But Laios is the animal monster lover so how come when he finally is faced with a "docile" monster he doesn't react positively like the others? Marcille even calls him a monster. That's because Laios loves monsters, and Senshi loves Anne.

I've seen this attitude around me several times, where people love a specific animal but what they love is their idea of that animal, they don't really know them because they don't love the animal part of them.

It becomes a "this one is special because I love them" that can quickly become an issue for the animal as much as it is for the person. It's something unfortunate I see time and time again irl.

Anne wasn't wicked, Anne wasn't mean, Anne didn't trick him. Anne was a wild animal and Senshi loved her as Anne but not as a kelpie.

She acted on instinct, maybe she did love Senshi in the way kelpies can love, but animals are still animals and must be respected and treated as such. Climbing on top of Anne's back was the equivalent of putting your arm inside a alligator's mouth, the mouth is gonna close because that's what they're designed to do.

The real life equivalent I see the most of "I love this animal but I don't love the animal part of them" is with dogs. If you insist on loving an animal without acknowledging they ARE an animal they might hurt you, you might hurt them, it will only end in grief.

The best way you can love an animal is by understanding they're an animal.

That is all to say I don't mean that the love Senshi felt for Anne wasn't real or that it's all his fault. He couldn't have known with the information he had and unfortunately it came down to the worst outcome.

I just love dungeon meshi dearly.

[rivilu]

Also aside from being sick I've been dabbling in V rising so if I disappear for extended lengths of time. That's why

[zorkaya-moved]

Thinking about how Zarina might know Cazador and I don’t like it 🫠

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run pt 2

By the time the five of you are in the house, you’re soaked through once more, teeth chattering when the cool air of the house hits your skin as Gaz opens the door, holding it open long enough to let the dogs trot in.

“Hey! Shake over there!” He shoos, flinching when Maggie sprays him with her shake off.

“Let’s get you taken care of pretty.” Price murmurs, and you push weakly at his chest, struggling to get down. Your mind is foggy, exhaustion fighting to take over, but there are four strange men now standing in your living room, and that seemed more pressing.

Price grunts, but finally gives in, setting you on your feet, and you put as much distance between yourself and them as you can. “What do you want? What is going on here?” You demand, trying to ignore the shake of your voice.

They glance at each other, having a silent conversation, and you glance towards the stairs. You had an old cell phone, and the service this far out was absolutely shit, but it was a chance-

“We would like a place to stay.” Price’s voice interrupts your thoughts, and your eyes shoot to look at them, and a shocked laugh tumbles past your lips.

“A place to stay? After what just happened? For god’s sake I don’t even know you!” You laugh, slightly hysteric, and Price takes a cautious step towards you, holding up his hands. “We didn’t mean to scare you sweetheart, honest. Didn’t think anyone lived here by the looks of it.” His tone is soft, comforting. He approaches you slowly, and you back away until your back hits the wall.

“How did you even know we were in there?” Ghost speaks this time, eyes trained on your face and you try not to crack under his gaze.

“You spooked Sebastian. In the six years I’ve lived here nothing has ever spooked that horse.” You glare, anger flaring when the four of them laugh. “You think scaring my stallion is funny?”

“No little bird, just…” Ghost trails off, chuckling and you can feel your eye twitch ever so slightly.

“It’s cute how protective you are over some animals.” He finishes, and he can tell his words are winding you up, the crinkle around his eyes indicating he finds this amusing. Bastard.

“They might just be animals to you,” You start, your frustration seeping into your words as you straighten your back. “But when I found this place they were starving and on the brink of death. I worked my ass off to make sure they made it. I worked for their trust after some asshole abandoned them here to fucking die. They are my herd, this is my land!” Your shoulders heave, sucking in a deep breath as you try to calm your racing heart.

They stare at you, quiet and you close your eyes, clenching your fist as you struggle to maintain yourself. “You broke into my barn and scared my animals, held my own knife to my throat and invited yourselves into my home. Why is god's name should I let you stay here?” You ask, opening your eyes to stare them down, and for the first time tonight, they seem to crack under your gaze for once.

“Have you… Do you have any way of hearing the news?” Price questions, wincing and you frown. “The radio when I’m cleaning the barn. Why?”

They hesitate, looking between themselves as they shuffle their feet. Your eyes bounce between them, trying to think back to anything of importance that a reporter has broadcasted as of late.

Missing sheep from a town more than four hours north of you, a four way pile up down one of the highways,a break out at the prison, a wheeler transporting 60,000 gallons of wine tipping near the river…

A break out at the prison.

You freeze, all air leaving your lungs as you stare at them, four wanted criminals standing in your living room. You feel your knees buckle.

They notice your realization, hesitation crossing Price’s face when he notices your stiff figure.

“Please. Let us explain ourselves.” He all but begs, and you feel your hands shaking.

“You are wanted criminals!” You hiss, and they cringe, their previous bravado has disappeared.

“We will explain everything to you, we swear. Just… Please give us a chance.” Soap steps forward this time, big wide eyes trained on you. They’re just as soaked as you are, and in the light of the living room you see the bags under their eyes, the tension in their shoulders. They look exhausted, and not just from this night. There’s a haunted look behind their eyes, and you curse yourself when you feel your heart ache ever so slightly.

You make a noise at the back of your throat, turning to head up the stairs.

“Pretty where are you-“

“You’re soaking my floor. You can explain it to me after I’m out of this damn gown.” You mumble, hearing one of them mumble ‘damn shame’.

“I heard that!”

After a few moments you come back, a box of clothes in hand and they all raise a brow. “Thought you said no one else lived here?” Gaz asks suspiciously when they notice it’s a box of men’s clothes. You roll your eyes, shoving it into his hands.

“They’re my ex-husbands, I took it by mistake when I moved my boxes.” You huff, crossing your arms. It’s your turn to raise a brow at their shocked expressions. “What’s with your faces?”

“What kind of eejit divorces such a gorgeous lass?” Soap asks, and you feel insulted, till you realise he’s not joking. They all look you over, and you feel your face warm at the way their eyes darken. Turning away, you clear your throat, pointing up the stairs.

“The guest room is down the hall, it has a bathroom and towels. Leave your clothes in the tub.” You order, making your way towards your bedroom. You feel the stairs shake as they bound up them, and as they pass, Price give’s your hip a little squeeze and you swat at his hand.

“Thank you pretty.”

“I haven’t said yes yet. You were just ruining my hardwood floors.” You sniff, smacking his hand once more when he doesn’t let go.

“You are testing my patience most of all.”

“You haven’t made us leave though.”

“I can change that very quickly.” You snap, pulling his hand off your side and he takes the opportunity to pull you close, leaning down next to your ear.

“But I don’t think you will, will you sweetheart?” He whispers, and you bite your lip, pushing at his chest. “For god's sake, go change you old perv.” You hiss, wiggling in his grasp and he flashes you a grin before letting you go.

You slip into your room, locking the door before pressing your head against it. What have you gotten yourself into?

You quickly take a hot shower, letting the scalding water bring warmth back to your stiff joints. You towel off quickly, slipping into an oversized hoodie and some old pajama pants.

You can still hear the shower running down the hall when you step out, a boom of thunder sounding in the distance. You slip down to the kitchen, grabbing one of your mugs. You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

How could you be so foolish as to be letting escaped convicts use your bathroom?! God the feds were probably spread to every point in the world trying to track these men down. You can’t remember much the broadcast had said, just that there were four dangerous men on the run from one of the maximum security prisons a couple of hours away. How on earth did they wind up here?

You’re so lost to your thoughts you don’t hear the stairs creak, staring out into the backyard as you mull things over in your mind.

“‘Ppreciate the clothes lass, loads better!” A cheerful voice spooks you and you jump, dropping your mug to the floor. “Shit!” You curse, a matching ‘ah hell’ leaving Soap.

“Didn’t mean to scare you again bonnie, I’m sorry.” He sighs, running a hand over his face. You’re surprised to find genuine guilt there, and he gives you a sheepish look. “I’ll clean this up for ye.”

“Gone and lost us our chance Soap?” Gaz asks, frowning at the glass on the ground but Soap just waves him off. “Accident, scared the poor lass.”

“We keep doing that, she'll never give us a chance.” Gaz smiles at you, soft and sweet but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, the bags under them worse after having cleaned up, and you feel that strange ache in your chest again. You glance at Soap, who is picking up the shards with his bare hands and you frown, swatting his hands away as you kneel beside him.

“Are you trying to hurt yourself?” You scold, and he gives you a surprised look before smiling, shrugging as he gently stops your hands from piling the remains of the mug. “Could ask the same of you bonnie, hands like these are much too pretty for such sharp things.” He mumbles, scooping up the shards without a care.

The two of them eye you nervously, and you can feel knots in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you motion towards the living room. “Sit. I’ll make something to drink.” You offer. They raise a brow and you glance at the ground.

“I’m sorry, I just thought-“

“No need to apologize, it’s just…” Gaz starts, trying to find the words and glances at Soap.

“We’re honestly surprised you didn't run for the nearest house possible when you had the chance.” Soap says bluntly, and you wince.

“No one around for miles.” You admit, and their faces fall slightly, shoulders tensing and you clear your throat. “I said I would hear you out. I plan to.” You say firmly, turning to walk into the kitchen, just to bump into a large chest.

“I gotta worry about you keeping your mouth shut little bird?” Ghost asks, arms crossing over his chest as he stares you down.

“I do have a radio that connects me to the closest ranger station. And another for the Police station in the little town 3 hours north.” You admit, and you see his eyes flash, but you hold up your hand before he speaks.

“No. You aren’t taking it.” You snap, and his eyes narrow, exhaling sharply.

“If they don’t hear from me periodically they get worried. It’s a small town, everyone knows one another and I do have to take trips to the store every month or so.” You don’t back down from his dark gaze, but your palms feel clammy.

“They ever check up on you unannounced?” Price is last to arrive, voice stern as he levels the same cold glare as Ghost and you swallow, standing straighter, Gaz and Soap looking between the three of you nervously.

“Not unless I ask them to or I haven’t called in a few weeks. Takes too long to get out here.” Your voice shakes towards the end, slipping between the two looming men.

“You’re all here, you can start talking anytime.” You quip, and Ghost scoffs. “Got a mouth on you don’t-“

“You are asking to stay in my home. Watch it.”

He snaps his mouth shut, glaring at you and you turn your back to him. Price clears his throat, his gaze heavy on your back as you turn on the stove.

“Listen. There has to be some type of trust for this to even begin to work. You haven’t hurt me, and besides that oaf holding a knife to my throat,” You and Simon glare at one another, but he breaks first, eyes crinkling in the corners. “You’re a feisty little thing.” He laughs, crossing the kitchen to plop down at the kitchen table like he owns it.

“Besides that, you haven’t given me any reason you’re here to harm me or rob me, considering you have no car. You could easily overpower me and keep me locked in one of my own rooms and you haven’t. That’s a good start.” You finish, hands shaking slightly as you start to make your tea, and Price gently takes the kettle from your hands.

“But you’re still scared.” He states, and your shoulders stiffen. “Four men are in my kitchen asking to hide from the police. I’ve only put together who is who with your little code names by listening to you talk to one another. I’m sorry for being a little frightened.” You spit, jumping when you feel his large hand on your hip.

“Oh if you don’t quit that-“

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you pretty.”

“Okay! I think we all need to take a minute, yeah?” Gaz announces, him and Soap staring at the three of you nervously. You pry Price’s hand off your hip, again, pushing him away.

“Start talking, now. Before I let Soap and Gaz stay here and let the two of you rot outside.” You huff, taking a seat at the table and they seem surprised.

“I told you, I put together who is who, and those two,” You point, glaring at Price and Ghost as you speak. “Have been very respectful and kind.”

The two of them perk up, lapping up the small praise like thirsty dogs as their chests puff out.

Price frowns, keeping eye contact with you as he slips into the chair opposite of you. “We’ll behave.” He mutters, cutting a look at Ghost when he makes an offended noise in the back of his throat.

“We’re sorry. We didn’t mean any of the harm or fear we have caused you, really thought this place was abandoned. The boys and I appreciate you hearing us out when you have absolutely no reason to. And I… apologize.” He clears his throat, casting you a glance over before meeting your eyes once more.

“Haven’t been around such a gorgeous little thing like yourself in a long time. Forgot my manners.” He grins now, causing heat to bloom in your chest and you splutter, narrowing your eyes at him as you fight the heart crawling up your neck.

“Story. Now.”

“Oh come on pretty, am I at least forgiven?” He asks, and you know he’d deny that he’s pouting, but it still makes a small smile tug your lips.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“I could sweet talk you some more.”

“Much more interested in why you were in prison.”

Price sighs, but there’s a smile on his face as he relaxes in his chair.

“Better settle in. It’s a bit of a tale.” He crosses his arms, settling back.

“I’ve got all night.” You shoot back, resting your chin on your hand as you get comfortable.

What have you gotten yourself into?

[taeghi]

wrong number

𓇼 pairing : roommate's best friend!jake x reader

𓇼 summary : a mistaken text might not always be a bad mistake.

𓇼 genre : smut, angst. sexting, nudes, lots of talk ab being stretched out, degrading, slight spanking ;)

𓇼 wc : 12.3k!

𓇼 taglist : @jaehoonii @ikeuverse @soobinsnovia101 @river-demon-slayer @criminalyun @idkmaybeimgay @flowerlvrs-blog @miszes @koralira-kira  @dreamiestay @vevelu @niniissus @i2sunric @belovedsthings @yeonzzzn  @littlefluu @breadlover01 @kookify @j3nnypng @crpasta @isabellah29 @starggukies @fakeuwus @yongbokified @jjakeylattee @shiningnono @lilifiedeans @simpjay @kirinaa08 @hoonneyyzz @hwanchaesong @cupidscourt @luvsweet78 @jayshadoww @cha0thicpisces @eloelooo

mdni

your roommate, sunghoon, had just said goodnight to you as you both headed off to your separate bedrooms for the night. there had been a long awaited movie night for the both of you and somehow both of you had managed to stay up so late, that both of you were going to be exhausted for university tomorrow. 

as soon as your head touches your pillow and your blanket pulls up to your chin, your phone vibrates from your nightstand. you sigh, wanting to ignore the notification, but the curiosity of who was texting you after midnight intrigued you so much that you just had to reach over and look. 

unknown : [image.jpg] [12:46]

instantly your jaw drops as you realize what the image was. this was the last thing you had expected from an unknown number. 

in the picture, was obviously a man’s hand covering his apparent large bulge in his black boxers. you could see the tan skin of his defined abs in the light glow of the room he was in. the picture showed up to his neck, his face being cut off. you wondered briefly if his face would have distracted you more than his bulge. 

unknown : [i told you i was good at taking pics, vera ;)] [12:47]

vera? you had no idea who vera was but you were definitely not her and this picture was definitely not for you. after debating on what to do about this mistaken text, another one rolled in. 

unknown : [what? cat got your tongue now?] [12:50]

you sigh but decide to answer, your thumbs moving briskly across the keyboard of your phone. sleep completely leaving your mind now as your eyes keep glancing up at the stranger’s picture. 

you : [hey, uh, this isn’t vera? so sorry] [12:50]

it only took a second after pressing send for the stranger’s texting bubble to pop up, indicating that he was typing. your nervously sat up in bed, brushing your hair out of your face. 

unknown : [oh my god i’m so sorry] [12:50] unknown : [my idiot friend gave me this number saying it was this girl vera im so sorry] [12:51]

you chuckle to yourself at his texts, feeling his obvious stress through the screen. his excessive apologies were relaxing you, knowing this wouldn’t have to be more awkward than it was. until, 

unknown : [but you must’ve thought i was good at taking pics too, i mean you stared at the pic for so long ;) ] [12:52]

you had no idea who this was but he was so cocky. but he was so right. you couldn’t take your eyes off of his picture for more than a minute. the angle it was taken at teased you to want to see more of his body. it felt wrong since the picture was obviously not meant for you. but how could you not look at a picture that made him look this good. still, you cursed yourself for having read receipts on. 

you : [i wasn’t looking at it] [12:53] you : [but it’s definitely the most interesting wrong number i’ve ever gotten ] [12:53] unknown : [oh really? how many wrong numbers do you get?] [12:54] you : [not many, but def not ones with ab pics] [12:54] unknown : [with hot ab pics?? ;)] [12:55]

your jaw drops again. how many wink faces will he send? but you sigh, because you know he’s right. 

you : [fine, not many with hot ab pics] [12:56] unknown : [glad i could be your first ;)] [12:57] unknown : [sorry i guess i’m pretty… self assured?] [12:57]

you roll your eyes at him now. this guy was definitely something else. how could he not be so embarrassed that he sent such an intimate picture to not only the wrong person, but a complete stranger at that. 

you : [i think i would use the word cocky instead] [12:58] unknown : [heyy be nice, you got that hot pic for free!] [12:58] you : [yeah well thanks a lot, now i can’t sleep] [12:59] you : [i’m wide awake bc of you] [12:59] unknown : [you’re welcome!] [1:01] unknown : [i couldn’t leave a pretty girl like you being tired!] [1:01]

you scoff at his text, but it was true. you didn’t think you could lay back down and fall asleep with this much adrenaline running through you. you were curious about this boy. he seemed to be so different compared to you. you couldn’t guess what his next text or reaction would be. you were intrigued and had nothing else to do at 1am, so you texted him again. 

you : [how do you know if i’m pretty or not??] [1:03] unknown : [i’ve got a good feeling ;)] [1:04] you : [yeah? what else does your good feeling tell you about me?] [1:04]

you realized your text could have sounded a bit flirty. maybe a bit cringey, but you figured if this stranger could be so indifferent and flirtatious then why couldn’t you?

unknown : [that you’re into dirty, nasty things] [1:06] unknown : [like riding a guys’ abs, getting yourself off] [1:06]

you felt your eyes bulge out of your head as you read his texts. your mouth felt dry as you realize he was right. you couldn’t stop staring at his pic. the way the abs were so defined just in a picture you couldn’t imagine what they looked like up close. 

you : [were you planning to get vera to do that with you?] [1:08] unknown : [nah] [1:08] unknown : [just with you] [1:08]

you have to reach over to your bedside table to get some water. you gulp it down as you keep your eyes on his texts. reading them over and over, not believing they were real. 

unknown : [would you want that?] [1:09]

you hesitantly type back. 

you : [maybe] [1:10] you : [but i usually only fuck guys with big cocks] [1:10]

you felt like you had to lower his ego somehow with the way he has been so cocky (self assured) over these texts. you could tell from the bulge in his accidental picture that he wasn’t lacking in the size department. but letting him think that it was, would justify your need to decrease his ego. 

unknown : [you don’t think i could fill you? haha] [1:11] unknown : [i would stretch you out so good] [1:12]

you would be lying if you said his texts weren’t turning you on. because truth be told, you hadn’t had sex in a while. you had gone on dates, went to parties, tried to talk to your mutual friends but no one ever seemed worth your while. 

except for this complete stranger that accidentally texted you. 

you : [hmm maybe you’ll get to show me some day] [1:13] unknown : [oh i definitely will ;)] [1:13]

after another minute another text comes through. 

unknown : [since you have a pic of me to drool over] [1:14] unknown : [how about you send me a pic? ;)] [1:14]

you instantly knew that you would not be sending this guy a picture tonight– maybe even never. you liked flirting with him. and you definitely liked his picture. but no way in hell would he be seeing you tonight. 

you : [hahaha] [1:15] you : [goodnight :)] [1:15] unknown : [goodnight] [1:16]

with that, you slid your phone onto your bedside table again and laid back down in bed. you thought of his texts and his forwardness and how it was something that you almost admired in a way. you thought that maybe it wouldn’t have been the worst idea to send him a teasing picture. you might not ever meet the guy or know who he is. but before you could think more of him and his texts, sleep crept onto you finally.

the next day, you had practically forgotten all about the flirty stranger from the night before. 

you ended up being late to class since you had slept in from staying up late the night before. which meant that you had forgotten your textbooks on your kitchen table at home. which meant each class of yours was messed up since you didn’t have your books.

you were completely frazzled the whole day, seemingly never being able to catch a break. 

you felt mentally and physically exhausted when you finally got to lay down for bed that night. you were ready for sleep when the same event happened. your phone vibrated from a notification on your bedside table. 

you sighed and reached over, not lifting your head from your pillow as you did so. and there on your phone’s screen, is another text from the unknown number.

unknown : [i can’t stop thinking about you and this convo] [10:36]

you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. the sleep that once consumed you was leaving your body once again due to this stranger’s text. you thought for a second, and then texted back. 

you : [what exactly have you been thinking about?] [10:38]

he was quick with his reply, no hesitation to your question. 

unknown : [what your voice sounds like] [10:38] unknown : [what it sounds like when you whisper my name] [10:38]

you : [what would i be whispering to you?] [10:40]

unknown : [all the things you’d let me do to you] [10:41] unknown : [i’ve been thinking about how much i wanna kiss you and touch you] [10:41] unknown : [make you feel good] [10:41]

after the day you had, you thought maybe this would be a good ending to it. you could feel yourself get more aroused by each of his texts coming through. 

you : [hmm] [10:42] you : [and what if i told you i’ve been thinking the same things] [10:42]

unknown : [then we definitely have to do something about it] [10:43] unknown : [sooner, rather than later] [10:43]

you : [and what exactly did you have in mind?] [10:44]

you tapped your fingers on your phone as you waited for his reply. you were getting anxious for some reason as you waited for his text longer than usual. you had wondered if he had fallen asleep or had completely forgotten about you and this convo. 

unknown : [image.jpg] [10:50]

you pressed the picture notification faster than you’d ever admit to anyone. you weren’t disappointed at the picture to say the least. 

it was a downview angle, portraying his abdomen and legs laying in bed. he was wearing nothing but a set of light gray boxers. his bulge was so very evident in the picture that it made your thighs tighten together. 

unknown : [i think it’s only fair for you to send me a pic now ;)] [10:51]

you bit your lip as you read his second message. knowing that he was right. it would be only fair at this point. 

you thought for moment of what to send him. you sat up and took your shirt off, leaving you in only your bralette. you slid your thumb to the camera on your phone and held it up. making sure to leave your face out of it, you took a picture of your breasts pushed together in your pretty bralette. 

thinking that you couldn’t do any better you sent it. and you waited for his answer which came surprisingly quick. 

unknown : [holy shit] [10:55] unknown : [you’re so hot] [10:55] unknown : [i’m actually so hard right now] [10:56]

you : [i’m so wet right now] [10:56]

you weren’t lying, you could feel your panties start to drip at the situation you were in. his texts and pictures made it easy for your panties to start to get soaked. you haven’t had any action lately, which made it even easier for you to get so wet. 

unknown : [god i bet you are] [10:56] unknown : [i wish i was there right now] [10:57] unknown : [are you touching yourself?] [10:57]

you : [yes] [10:58] you : [with my fingers] [10:58]

unknown : [let me see] [10:59]

this time, you moved with a little less hesitance. you sent a picture of your body laying down on your bed. your fingers covered by your panties as they circled your clit. he could see exactly how you were touching yourself now. 

unknown : [fuck me] [11:02] unknown : [your body’s perfect] [11:02] unknown : [image.jpg] [11:03]

you pressed the image he sent quickly. his hand was wrapped around the base of his cock as the camera pointed down at it. you could see it unveiled for the first time. it was definitely better than you would’ve ever thought. it was long, and veiny and the tip was pink and leaking precum. 

when you clicked out of the photo, he had already continued texting you. 

unknown : [it’s a shame that i’m not there with you rn] [11:03] unknown : [your thighs look so soft and warm i wish i was between them] [11:04] unknown : [i’d kill to have my tongue between your thighs] [11:04]

you tried to think of what his face would have looked like with his body and cock looking so delicious. you figured his face would have to compare to them. 

you : [i want it so bad] [11:05] you : [i want your tongue and your cock and you] [11:05] you : [i need it] [11:06]

unknown : [god i can tell how naughty you are] [11:06] unknown : [i know you like it rough] [11:06] unknown : [you wanna be pounded into the mattress] [11:07]

you continued to massage your clit in quick, small circles as you watched him type out everything you thought of. everything that turned you on, he seemed to know. 

unknown : [i have a feeling you like to be choked] [11:08] unknown : [do you want me to do that to you?] [11:08] unknown : [choke you while i fuck deep inside of you?] [11:08]

you : [god i’d love that] [11:09] you : [i wanna feel you deep inside of me] [11:09] you : [i’d take it like a good girl] [11:10]

you decided to record a video of yourself to send it to him this time. you knew he’d continue texting you as you swiped to the camera app again. you record yourself, thinking completely and only of him, even though you don’t know what he looks like or his name. 

you focus the camera on your hand in your panties. the microphone picks up on your heavy breaths and whines and the wet sounds your pussy makes as you continue your movements. 

“please sir, i want your cock deep inside of me. i know you’d stretch me out so fucking good!” you moaned loudly for him, your fingers not stopping as you stopped recording and sent it to him. 

as he watched your video, you looked back on the texts he had sent you. 

unknown : [yeah you’d be such a good girl for me right?] [11:11] unknown : [i’d have to slide my fingers into your first i bet] [11:12] unknown : [so you’d be able to take my cock] [11:12]

you : [video.mp4] [11:13]

unknown : [sir?!?!] [11:15] unknown : [god your voice is so hot] [11:15] unknown : [you’re such a dirty girl] [11:16] unknown : [you even sound so wet and creamy fuck] [11:16]

you almost laugh at his texts as you start to slide your fingers into your pussy. your middle and ring fingers easily find your g spot everytime you push them back into your core. you try to image they are this stranger, pleasuring you. 

before you could answer him, he sent a video of his own. you instantly pressed it, wanting to see him, to hear him, so bad. 

it was a video of his hand wrapped around his cock. you could see his cock glistening in the flash on his camera from his precum and most likely his spit. his hand was moving up and down his cock at a decent pace. a grunt left his mouth when his hand glided over his tip. 

you thought the video was over, but then he spoke. 

“you’re making it so hard for me to not cum. i could cum any second, but i want to hear you cum first. i wanna see it. i wanna see your- fuck, fingers soaked with your juices.” 

you replayed the video once more, needing to hear his low voice grunt out each word as he continued to pleasure himself to the things you had sent him. 

you : [you’re so fucking hot] [11:20] you : [i’m so close to cumming] [11:20] you : [i’ll cum whenever you want, sir] [11:20]

unknown : [keep pleasuring yourself baby] [11:21] unknown : [do you have your fingers deep inside of you??] [11:21] unknown : [you know they won’t stretch you as much as my cock can] [11:22]

you could tell by the pictures and his video that he was definitely telling the truth. the stretch that his cock could do had your fingers moving faster, your palm rubbing against your clit as you pushed your fingers in and out of you. 

unknown : [you’re so nasty i bet you’d like to be choked] [11:23] unknown : [my one hand on your throat] [11:23] unknown : [and my other one would be rubbing your clit] [11:23] unknown : [as i fuck you] [11:24]

you : [fuck] [11:24] you : [that’s all i want sir] [11:25] you : [can i cum for you?] [11:25] you : [please sir] [11:25]

unknown : [fuck, you cum baby] [11:25] unknown : [let sir see you cum] [11:26]

not a second later, you’re recording yourself again. making sure to get a good shot of your fingers entering and leaving your pussy. making sure he can see just how wet he has gotten you. you can’t help but whine and moan as your hips buck against your fingers. 

you’re so desperate for an orgasm. you’ve been so deprived of anything recently that you knew from the start it wouldn’t take long or much to get you to cum. but this man, this stranger, seems to know exactly what to do to get you to cry and shake and moan. 

“fuck, sir!” you cry out to him. your hips bucking against your fingers more at the thought of him watching this. at the thought of him touching you, choking you, slapping your clit, his cock stretching you so fucking good. “i’m cumming! fuck i’m cumming just for you!” 

you let your camera record your entire orgasm, pressing stop with your body still shaking and your chest heaving to catch your breath. you watch as the recording sends to him. 

it takes a minute for him to respond. your eyes becoming sleepy but your heart racing at the same time with anticipation. 

unknown : [omg] [11:30] unknown : [fuck im so close] [11:30] unknown : [fuck you’re so hot] [11:30]

you : [please cum for me sir] [11:31] you : [i wanna see it so bad] [11:31] you : [i wanna see your cum drip all over you into a little mess] [11:31]

another minute passes before you get a response and you don’t hesitate to press play. 

unknown : [video.mp4] [11:33]

the video has him jerking his cock faster than he was in the previous video. his grunting has turned into moans that are almost whiney. he’s hissing and cursing under his breath as his camera shakes. his hips are practically fucking into his hand. 

you were drooling at his video. 

“fuck you’re such a dirty slut.” he grunts out, his voice like honey despite the situation. “i- i’m so close. i wish you were here to lick up my cum.” his admission makes you wish you could lick it up. you wondered if it would taste sweet on your tongue. you feel like you’d do anything to pleasure him now, without even knowing what his face looks like. 

“fuck baby, i’m cumming.” he grunts out, his throat getting tighter as his cum spurts out of the red tip, landing on his sheets, his thighs and fingers. he curses some more as his hand comes to a halt on his cock. he moves his phone in for you to get a closer look at his mess. his breaths heavy in the microphone. “this is all for you baby.” he says finally before the recording unfortunately ends. 

you wanna watch it again but he’s already texting you again. 

unknown : [that was so good] [11:34] unknown : [i haven’t came that hard in so long] [11:35] unknown : [you’re so hot] [11:35]

you : [that was really good] [11:36]

you catch yourself smiling at your phone. between your thighs still a mess as you lay on your bed. you feel relieved in a way. you’ve been so pent up for so long that you really needed this and you didn’t even know. 

unknown : [so] [11:37] unknown : [since you made me cum so hard] [11:37] unknown : [will i get to know your name?] [11:37]

you bite your lip as you read his question. you figure that he was right, you both had seen and heard such intimate parts of one another. he had made you cum so hard, too. 

you : [y/n] [11:38]

instantly he replies. 

and his replies make your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. 

unknown : [holy shit y/n?] [11:38] unknown : [its jake] [11:39]

you sit up in your bed, your hand gripping onto your phone tight with sudden nervousness as you take in his messages. your other hand holds your loose hair out of your face as you try to take in all the information. your brain trying to process it all. 

unknown : [holy shit] [11:39] unknown : [fucking dumbass sunghoon gave me the wrong number] [11:39] unknown : [holy shit] [11:40]

you’re reading his messages as they come through but you can’t stop yourself from hyperventilating in your bedroom that is right next door to sunghoon’s. 

the supposed stranger that you had just sexted. that had heard your moans and see your body shake from pleasure. that you had imagined their cock inside of you. was your roommates best friend. 

your roommates best friend that you were strictly told to absolutely, under no circumstances, to get involved with in any way besides friends. 

though you weren’t even sure if you and jake were friends to begin with. 

sure, you had hung out a few times when sunghoon or other mutual friends were present. you had gone to the same parties. you had said hello in your hallway before he left with sunghoon to go somewhere else. you had heard a few of his drunk stories. 

and there was that one time you had made out in his kitchen. 

you swear you had only made out for two minutes before sunghoon called jake’s name, causing both of you to pull apart before sunghoon could catch you. thankfully, sunghoon was so drunk that he didn’t sense the awkward shock that was between you two when he walked in the kitchen. 

though, those two minutes were something you thought about often, though you would never admit that to anyone. 

it was lustful and passionate and you knew you shouldn’t be doing it. you have no idea how it started, but you know it was amazing. his plush lips on your own as you let his tongue enter your mouth. you didn’t fight for dominance, letting him take over so easily. his hands roamed your body and rested on your ass, pulling you closer to him. your arms wrapped around his neck so naturally, keeping his face against yours. 

sometimes, you let yourself think about what might have happened if sunghoon hadn’t walked in. would he have taken you to his room? would you have let him? or would you have both come to your senses at some point and realize that you definitely shouldn’t have been doing that? 

you and jake had met sunghoon separately at different parts in sunghoon’s life. jake had grown up with sunghoon in their small town. while you had met sunghoon during your freshman year at university. sunghoon and you had the great idea of moving in with each other since you got along so well. he was basically your best friend. you told him everything (except for you making out with jake), he had seen you cry, he had seen you blackout drunk and he really cared about you. 

when jake started going to your university a during sophomore year, sunghoon had told you to not get involved with jake with anything more than friends. he cared about both of you equally.

you understood where he was coming from, both of his best friends dating could potentially be a disaster for him if things went wrong. he would become the middleman, and could lose both of his friends. it’s just an uncomfortable position. 

so, you knew that you could not have any feelings for jake at all before you even met him. but that was so hard since he was so attractive (and now because you knew what he sounded like when he orgasms). 

after trying to piece at least some of it together you glance back at your phone. 

unknown : [are you still there?] [11:44] unknown : [i swear i didn’t know it was you y/n] [11:44] unknown : [but you are really so hot] [11:44]

you suddenly felt like crying. you feel like you had betrayed sunghoon and his trust. but you feel like you were betraying yourself by not allowing yourself to do what you want. which you want to allow yourself to give in to jake. 

you never knew your exact feelings for jake since you always told yourself it was forbidden. but now that you’ve explored it, you know you want- need more. 

you feel like ripping your hair out. but you decide to do what is right. 

you : [night jake ] [11:45]

jake : [night y/n :( ] [11:46]

you decide to not think about what the sad face meant in his text and turn off your phone completely, putting it in it’s spot on your bedside table and rolling over for the night. you want to scream into your pillow, but you don’t. you force yourself to go to sleep, just like you force yourself to ignore anything you feel or think about jake. 

you’re doing what’s right. for the sake of your friendship with sunghoon, who was asleep just meters away from you. you could hear his snoring through the wall.

you go to bed early friday night. 

you decline sunghoon’s offer for another movie night. you practically crawl into bed, shutting your phone off completely before falling asleep, finally escaping the thoughts of jake and your betrayal to sunghoon. 

you manage to stay in bed all of saturday. you haven’t been able to face sunghoon since you apparently sexted jake a few days ago. you knew jake would not tell sunghoon about your texts, but that didn’t exactly clean your moral code. you felt wrong for lying to sunghoon while sleeping under the same roof with him. 

it’s late into the afternoon when there’s a quick, faint knock on your bedroom door. you mumble into your pillow for him to come in, knowing it was sunghoon. 

when he pushes the door open his hair is wet over his forehead and he has a towel wrapped around his slim waist. a sight that you were used to. 

“hey,” sunghoon smiles at you with a concerned expression on his face from the doorway, “you feeling alright? you’ve been in bed all day.” 

you wanna tell him that that’s the point but instead you say, “yeah i’m fine, just tired.” 

sunghoon nods and then leans on the door frame with his muscular arms crossed over his bare chest, water droplets trailing down his skin from his shower, “well we’re going to a party tonight, i wanted to see if you wanted to come.” 

you want to groan at the thought of being a party, especially at a party that jake would certainly be at, but instead you shake your head at your roommate, “nah i’m okay, i just wanna get some rest tonight, hoon.” 

sunghoon pouts at you, “aw, okay.” 

“i’m sorry, you know you’ll have fun whether i’m there or not.” 

he shrugs, “yeah, jake and sunoo will be there, too, so.” 

you smile at him, noting that you were right that jake would be at the party. he’s always at a party and he’s always with sunghoon. 

“okay, have fun, hoon.” 

“have a good rest, y/n.” 

sunghoon teasingly waves his fingers at you as he closes the door again, leaving you alone in your dark bedroom. you cover your face with your hands as you let out a groan. you hate the feeling of hiding something from someone. and this was exactly that. 

what are you supposed to do in this situation? lie to your best friend and not tell him about sexting his best friend? or tell him that you betrayed his trust? 

you roll over and go back to sleep, the darkness in your room and the tireless thoughts racing in your mind make it easy. 

you wake up again a few hours later to laughter coming from outside your bedroom, probably from your living room. you search for your phone and notice that it’s the time that sunghoon usually leaves at when he goes to parties. 

instead of only hearing sunghoon, you hear another person as well. you can tell by the two distinct voices talking back and forth, the multiple footsteps walking around your apartment. you briefly wonder who it is and stand up to go look. 

your hand wraps around the doorknob when you still, your body tensing when you hear the all too familiar voice that you were supposed to be avoiding and pretending never existed. 

“what’s taking so long, i wanna leave!” jake’s voice whines out, obviously annoyed with how slow sunghoon gets ready. 

“ok! ok! i’m coming, let’s go.” sunghoon’s voice replies, sounding like he’s walking right past your room and into the living room on the other side of your door. 

“and, uh, why isn’t y/n coming?” you hear jake ask. your name coming out of his mouth makes your heart pick up its pace. 

it takes a second for sunghoon respond, probably busy putting his shoes on, “i don’t think she’s feeling well, she seemed pretty tired when i talked to her earlier.” 

you don’t hear jake reply to sunghoon’s explanation about your absence. just some more shuffling and murmuring and then the front door to your apartment closing and locking after they leave. it’s then that you can let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. your palm sweaty as you finally let go of the doorknob. 

you feel so confused and alone. you have no one to talk to about this problem since the problem includes your best friend– your best friend and roommate that you tell everything to. every problem you have, you go straight to him. 

you know you couldn’t possibly keep avoiding hanging out with sunghoon, not going out and pretending jake doesn’t exist. sunghoon would catch on too quick. he knows you too well. he’s probably already suspicious as to why you didn’t want to go out tonight. 

you sigh as you try to sort out your brain. but since the apartment was now officially empty for at least a few hours, you could leave your isolated bedroom to at least get a drink of water.

you are halfway through your third episode of Gossip Girl when your phone vibrates in its usual spot on your bedside table. without tearing your eyes away from chuck brushing blair’s hair behind her ear, his lips leaning close to hers, you grab your phone. 

you glance down at it, expecting it to be an insignificant notification, but you jolt when you read the name “jake”. you’re slamming your laptop shut in an instant, pausing it when blair is about to cuss chuck out for kissing her. your entire focus is on this message now. 

jake : [hey] [12:07] jake : [hoon told me u aren’t feeling well??] [12:07] jake : [but i wanted to tell u that i wish u were here] [12:07] jake : [i’d do anything to have ur lips on mine rn] [12:08]

you want to text back and tell him that he shouldn’t be texting you this or texting you at all. that he can’t be thinking of you like this. especially when he’s out drinking with sunghoon right now. you wonder if sunghoon could see jake’s texts right now. 

jake : [can i come over?] [12:09]

your mouth goes dry when you read his text. you contemplated every single con of him coming over right now. leaving the party he’s at with sunghoon, drunk, and coming over to your apartment where there’s tension between you two when there definitely shouldn’t be. 

you : [sure] [12:10]

jake : [i’ll be there in 10] [12:11]

you had ten minutes to clean up your room that you had rotted in all day, to brush your hair and put on a clean shirt. you didn’t know what jake wanted to come over for, but you assumed it wouldn’t do you any good with fixing the betrayal you had done to sunghoon. if anything, letting jake inside this apartment right now would only make things worse for you and your roommate. 

but sure enough, ten minutes later, you let jake inside your apartment after he softly knocked on the door. 

he’s wearing a black shirt that clings to torso and dark jeans that fit him well. his hair is tousled, as if he ran his fingers through it a few times during the night. he smells like his familiar cologne mixed with a faint smell of alcohol, instantly reminding you of the party he came from. 

“i’m sorry if i woke you,” jake speaks first as you close the door behind him. 

“it’s fine,” your voice comes out quiet and shaky and both of you pick up on how anxious and reserved you’re being. so different from your usual self. you clear your throat, “was the party not fun enough for you?” 

jake scoffs as he leans against the back of the couch, so confidently, as he looks at you practically folded into yourself, “it was fine. i just couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

you shake your heads thim, “jake, we can’t do this. sunghoon would be really upset.” 

jake moves closer to you, his scent getting stronger. his voice is soft but intense when he speaks, “sunghoon isn't here right now. it’s just us.” he looks around the apartment to prove a point, “and i want you y/n. i want you so bad.” 

you take a step back, your back hitting the closed apartment door, your heart is racing as you look up at him. “he’s our best friend, jake. this,” you gesture between your bodies, “could really mess things up with our friendship with him.” 

jake steps forward again, closer to you. he slowly, almost hesitantly, reaches out and gently cups your face, almost scared you’re gonna disappear on him. it’s the first time jake and you have touched since you’ve made out so many months ago. “i know, but i can’t stop thinking about you,” his voice gets deeper, “ever since i’ve heard the way you moan and beg for more, i need you.” you gasp quietly at his words, your eyes not being able to leave him as he finishes, “don’t you feel the same?”

your resolve weakens as you look at his puppy-like features, “jake, i do. you know i do. but it’s complicated.”

“it doesn’t have to be. just one night. let’s see where this goes. we can figure out the rest later.” jake tsks at you, his whole body pressing against yours now, pinning you against the door. when you don’t (can’t) answer, jake smiles, his lips brush against your ear, “let me show you how good i can make you feel, baby.”

you close your eyes, feeling the pull of desire overpowering you, “jake… i…” 

jake starts kissing your neck softly, whispering into your skin, “just say yes y/n. i’ve been thinking about this all week. all i want is you. i wanna know how you taste.” 

you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips, your arms wrapping around his neck, “please.” 

you feel jake smile against your skin. he’s lifting you up and carrying you out of the living room in a second. your squeal of shock and excitement fill your shared apartment. 

jake puts you down onto your bed. his lips meet yours with fast passion. they’re moving against yours with need. you can slightly taste the alcohol on his breath mixed with a mint flavour. both of you can tell that you’ve been wanting this forever. 

“can i take this off?” jake asks you, his fingers pulling on the bottom hem of your tank top. you nod in response, lifting your back off the mattress for him to pull it off completely. it leaves your chest exposed to him, his eyes widening as he stares at you. “fuck you’re so perfect.” 

before you can respond jake leans his head down and starts to nip and suck at one of your nipples. his other hand tweaks your other nipple with his fingers, pulling on it gently. he gets both of your nipples erect and hard, the feeling of them having attention makes your stomach tighten with pleasure. 

“are you gonna show me how much of a naughty girl you are, y/n? or were you just being a tease in those texts?” jake asks you, his voice deeper than ever. 

“what i said in the texts were true.” you tell him, your hands staying at your sides. 

“yeah? so you want my tongue, baby? want me to taste your pretty pussy?”

“please, wanna feel your tongue on me so bad.” 

jake presses a soft kiss onto your lower abdomen with a smirk before he starts to undo the string on your shorts and pull them down alongside your panties. you’re completely bare and exposed just for him, while he’s still completely dressed on top of you. 

the tension between you two is unmatchable as jake’s eyes switch from looking at your wet core to your eyes. he lets out a guttural groan as he leans down to press his tongue flat onto your pussy and licks a strip right up. you let out a moan of relief as you finally get to feel him. 

“oh fuck, you taste better than i imagined,” jake groans out before diving back in between your legs. he keeps his hands on your thighs, making your legs stay spread apart for him to pleasure you. his tongue does circles around your clit quickly. he alternates circling your clit with sucking it into his mouth and moving his head side to side. his pace is quick and rough and it’s all that you’ve wanted. “do you know how many times i’ve thought about this?” 

“fuck, probably as much as i have.” you hate how your voice already sounds out of breath. 

jake is licking long stripes up your entire pussy, making sure to get all of it wet, making sure to taste all of it. he groans out against your clit at your answer. 

“i’ve wanted my tongue on you since before i even met you– since sunghoon showed me a picture of you.” jake confesses, you aren’t sure if he’d tell you this if he wasn’t intoxicated, but you don’t regret hearing it. “and then it turns out i got to see your dirty pictures, got to read your dirty texts.” 

you moan out, you throw your head back as he continues to lick and suck in between his sentences. he’s really making such a mess in between your legs. his salvia mixed with your juices and spreading it all over. 

“you don’t know how many times i’ve looked at the pictures you sent me, y/n. they get me so hard so quick.” jake moves his tongue around and around your clit, hard and fast. 

“oh fuck, that feels so good, sir.” 

jake groans out at the name, his eyes closing as he continues to eat you out. he’s practically making out with your core at this point. he’s moaning into your pussy, his tongue and lips are sucking and swirling everywhere. his chin and lips are shining with your juices and his saliva. he almost looks beautiful. 

you reach down and let your hand tangle in his hair, pulling his face even closer to you, wanting and need more. 

“do you like the way i taste, sir?” 

“fuck, i love the way you taste. wish i could taste you forever.” jake moves his head up and down as he drags his tongue all over you. your inner thighs feel drenched, you’re sure there’s a wet spot on your blanket below you. 

jake pulls away for a second, his hand gliding around your thighs and abdomen, “fuck look at this little pussy– so fucking tight. you know you won’t be able to take my cock properly right?” 

you nod down to him, your fingers tweaking your nipples for pleasure, “fuck i know, sir. i need to be stretched out so bad. need to be stretched out by you.” 

jake bites his lip as he lets out a groan, your words obviously having an effect on him. his fingers pinch your lips together gently, “fuck it’s so small.” he can feel his cock twitch in his pants against your mattress. 

“please sir, i need you in me. i’ve wanted it for so long.” 

“okay, baby, okay.” jake nods and starts to slide his middle finger into you slowly. his finger glides in easily with how wet you are. he moves it out slowly again, warming you up for his big cock. “you tell me when i find your g spot, okay?” 

you nod at him, your fingers continuing to tweak your nipples, pulling on them gently as you watch him concentrate on making you feel good. his finger continues to prod until it hits your g spot, making your thighs spasm for a second. 

“fuck, right there, sir.” 

jake’s finger hits the same spot again, “right there?” 

“mhm,” you nod to him, “right there feels so good.” 

jake then eases another finger in alongside the first one. even the smallest stretch from his fingers makes you cry out. his fingers are so much wider and longer than your own. it’s been so long since you’ve been touched, stretched out, pleasured. 

“fuck! oh my god,”

jake leans down and starts sucking your clit into his mouth. his fingers pick up their pace slowly, making sure to hit your g spot everytime. he keeps one of his hands on your lower abdomen, keeping you from moving your hips too much. 

“i want you to cum for me, baby.” jake speaks into your pussy, his lips massaging you core. 

“i’m so close, sir. i want to cum so bad!” you figure if you weren’t so touch deprived and turned on, the higher pitch and desperation of your voice would humiliate you. but for right now, all you could think about was cumming on jake’s fingers and mouth. 

“give it to me, cum for me, let me see how much of a slut you can be.” jake grunts out to you. 

jake’s fingers start to pump faster and harder into you. the squelching noises of your wet pussy filled the room, mixing with your cries of pleasure and jake’s name. his tongue starts to flick your clit side to side before circling it and repeating. your grip on his hair tightens as your stomach starts to convulse with pleasure. 

“fuck i’m cumming, oh my god!” 

your body stills as waves of pleasure start to wash over you,jake never stopping his movements, wanting you to ride out the pleasure. you gasp and cry as your mind goes numb, the orgasm hitting you harder than ever. 

when the final wave of pleasure finishes, jake pulls away from you. your body is high on adrenaline and pleasure and all you can think about is jake’s cock finally filling you up. 

“fuck that was so hot,” jake stares at you with his mouth agape. 

you laugh breathlessly at him, “thank you?” 

jake leans over your body, pressing his lips to yours. the kiss is different this time. it’s sweet and nice in comparison to how dirty your actions were just seconds before. you can taste your juices on his lips and can feel how wet his chin is from eating you out. it’s so passionate that if your head wasn’t consumed by the thought of his clothed, hard cock rubbing against your bare pussy, that it would’ve scared you. 

“i wanna feel you inside of me,” you pull away from him, your hand cupping his jaw. 

jake bites his plush lip, “god this is like a dream.” 

you push him away, rolling your eyes with a laugh. jake stands, pulling his shirt off of his body first. his tan skin visible to yours eyes, allowing you to scan his upper half. you’ve seen him shirtless before. like last summer when you all went to the beach. of course, you couldn’t have checked out his body as freely as you can now– sunghoon wasn’t here to reprimand you. 

jake bends over to pull off his pants and boxers in one go– his cock springing free and hitting his stomach. it’s so much bigger in person than in the pictures and videos he had sent you. 

you wonder if it would even fit inside of you. if the teasing jake had said about it being too big for you was real instead. 

“are you sure you wanna do this, y/n?” jake’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. his head is tilted to the side as he looks down at you. 

you bite your lip as you nod your head, “i do, i want this. it’s just…” you trail off, not being able to form the words while he’s so concentrated on you. 

jake kneels onto the bed right beside you, your legs touching. “what is it, pretty girl?” jake’s hand brushes your hair behind your ear. 

you sigh, “it’s just, it’s been awhile since… i’ve had sex.” jake smirks instantly at your confession. you groan at his expression and cover your face, “stop!” 

jake laughs as he pulls your hands away, wanting to see the blush on your cheeks, “it’s okay! i’m not making fun of you!” he moves so he’s over top of your laying body. “you’re so cute.” he leans down so your lips meet. it’s a soft kiss, like neither of you are naked and needy right now. 

he pulls away and rests his forehead on your own, looking into your eyes, “do you trust me y/n?”

his chocolate eyes are so pretty and warm like his body on yours that you don’t hesitate to nod, “yeah, i do.” 

“then let me make you feel good, you know i wouldn’t hurt you.” 

you nod again, your lips touching his again, letting him know that this is what you want. 

jake brings his hand up to your mouth, “spit.” 

you do as he says, letting a pool of your spit collect in his hand from your lips. he brings it to his cock, wetting it by mixing your spit with his precum. 

you lay on your back again as jake moves closer to you, spreading your legs. the air on your exposed, wet pussy makes you shiver. he holds onto your legs as he spits down onto your pussy, making you moan out as his actions degrade you. 

while he keeps one hand on your thigh, the other one holds his cock, guiding it to your pussy. he slowly, teasingly, drags his cock up and down your slit, wetting his cock more. you let out a hiss when he glides over your clit. 

“tell me how much you want my cock,” jake tells you, his eyes switching from your cunt to your face. 

“i want it so bad, sir! i’ve thought about having you inside of me so many times, i need it!” you admit, his cock being so close to your hole making you more desperate than ever. 

“rub your clit for me, baby.” 

you snake your hand in between your legs, starting to rub slow circles onto your already sensitive clit. 

you feel the tip of jake’s cock start to enter your hole. you can already tell that it’s gonna be a tight fit. you try to focus on the pleasure aspect instead. 

“oh my god,” jake groans out, his own eyes rolling to the back of his head as he eases inside of you. “fuck you’re so tight, baby. feels like heaven.” you can only nod in response, your voice gone as he fills you up completely. 

once he’s fully inside, his stills, letting you both adjust to the feeling. he leans down over you, his mouth pressing kisses into your neck. your hand moves slow circles on your clit, distracting you from the feeling of your walls adjusting around him. 

“i told you i’d stretch you out good.” jake chuckles into your ear. 

“shut up,” you say breathlessly, “just fuck me.” 

jake’s lips meet yours before, “as you wish.” 

jake sits up, his cock still lodged inside of you. he slowly moves his hips back, pulling his cock out until only his large tip is inside of you. he picks up one of your legs, holding it to keep your legs spread and pussy exposed to him. 

jake gradually sets a pace, sliding in and out of you with the help of your saliva’s mixing with your juices. he makes sure to hit your sensitive spots every time he slides back inside of you. when you start being unable to keep your moans quiet, he reaches down and encircles your neck with his hand and squeezes. 

“i knew you like being choked,” jake nods down at you, “you know how?”

“how?” you asked him, remembering his texts to you about how he would fuck you, how he would choke you and make you cum. 

“because i know you like being treated like a whore.” 

jake continues to thrust in and out of you as his hand leaves your neck and instead cups your jaw, his thumb pushing past your lips to enter your mouth. you don’t hesitate to suck on his thumb, using it to cover your moans from how well he’s fucking into you. 

you keep both of your hands on your nipples as you look up at him. his bangs are pushed out of his forehead, and his eyebrows are pulled together as he concentrates on making both of you feel good. 

your tongue swirls around his thumb before sucking on it, a moan leaves his lips at the feeling of your mouth around his digit. 

“god i wish i could feel your mouth around my cock, i know you’d make me cum so fast.”

he pops his thumb out of your mouth and puts his hand on the mattress, holding himself up. 

“i’d suck you until you couldn’t take it anymore,” you tell him honestly, his pace picking up at your admission.

“fuck baby, you’re so dirty it turns me on so much.” jake groans out, his hips moving faster now that he’s holding himself up with both of his hands. his head leans down so we can watch where both of your bodies are meeting. your pussy spread open just for him. the mess between your legs glistening in the faint light in your room. god, he’s wanted this for so long. wanted to feel what your walls would feel like around him. 

jake wants more, he wants to do everything he’s ever thought of with you, and he knows that tonight may be the first and last time he ever gets you, “ get up and turn around, baby.” jake tells you, the thought of your ass makes his cock twitch. 

you roll over, propping yourself up on your elbows and knees, your entire lower half being visible to him. jake’s hands land on your ass, making you cry out in pain and pleasure. 

“holy shit, this looks so good,” jake groans out at the sight, “who’s pussy is this?” he spanks your ass again, the skin starting to turn red now. 

“i-it’s yours sir, only yours.” you tell him, looking at him over your shoulder. his whole demeanor was dominant and masculine as he grips his cock and slides it back into you. the stretch this time less painful than before, your walls practically suck him in. 

jake starts to thrust in and out of you. his balls slapping against your clit every time he shoves himself back inside of you. his alternates slapping your ass and gripping your waist so he can pull himself harder into you. you have to grip onto your sheets to not move up the bed from how hard he is fucking you. 

“god i love your pussy, fucking made for me, stretched out just for me to fit in perfectly.” jake grunts out to you. 

“fuck!” you cry out into your sheets, “i love your cock, sir, please keep fucking me.” 

jake places his hand on your back, holding your body down against the mattress as he fucks into you. your bedroom is filled with so many wet noises, skin slapping, and both of yours and jake’s moans. 

jake grabs both of your hands, putting them so they are on your ass, “hold your pussy open for me while i fuck you.” jake demands you. your fingers curl over the slope of your ass, pulling the skin so your pussy is more exposed for him to see how much he is filling you up. “that’s it, that’s a good girl just like that.” 

jake’s hands grip your waist, using it as a leverage for him to start fucking into you. he finds your sensitive spot better with this angle, making you cry out his name, want him to keep going and never stop. your fingers tighten on your skin, the pleasure making you need to have a hold of something as he fucks you. 

jake pulls out of you, his hands staying on your waist as he leans down and spits right onto your pussy. the action makes you cry out, makes you feel so dirty that it turns you on even more. 

your hands leave your ass as jake slides back into you again, his cock so hard and wet and heavy inside of you. your one hand goes underneath you and starts to rub your clit back and forth as jake continues as his hard and fast pace.

“fuck that’s a good girl,” his accent strong as he watches you rub your clit. 

“i’m gonna cum, sir!” you cry out, looking up at him from your head on your mattress. 

“that’s right, fucking give it to me like a good girl, cum all over my cock.” he nods back at you, his thrusts getting harder as he fucks right into your g spot. 

it only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone on his cock, loud moans leaving your agape mouth. your eyes close as the pleasure washes through you. 

jake stills inside of you as he feels your walls compulse over his cock, his own moans increasing as he feels you cream all over his cock. he pulls him closer to his own orgasm. 

when the initial pleasure of your orgasm subsides, jake pulls out of you again, gently turning you over onto your back again. he starts to kiss all over your face and neck, wanting you to not drift off into subspace.

when your mind feels less hazy, you cup his jaw with your hand, bringing his lips to yours. you make out sloppily for a minute as your body recharges from the sensitivity of two orgasms. 

“want you to cum, sir.” you tell him, your voice quiet as you look into his eyes. 

jake doesn’t say anything as he kisses you again before he leans up. he grips his cock as he pushes inside your used pussy. a loud moan leaves his mouth once he’s back inside of you. 

“fuck you’re so creamy, baby. makes me feel so good.” he nods down at you, his cock starting to thrust in and out of you again. 

“just for you sir, only you.” you mumble to him, your hands gripping his upper arms that cage your body. your nails dig into his skin as he fucks you, getting himself off with your walls wrapped around him. 

“that’s right baby, only sir can fuck you this good, can stretch you out so fucking well.” his thrusts start to get sloppy as he continues to moan out to you, his thumb starts to flick your clit back and forth. “where do you want sir to cum, baby?”

your back arches at his touch on your clit, “on my face, sir. want you to make a mess all over me. make me a dirty girl.” 

“oh fuck,” jake grunts out, “you’re such a slut, such a fucking slut just for me.” jake could feel your walls start to tighten around him again, “you gonna cum again, baby?” 

you nod to him, your head moving against the mattress, messing up your hair even more. your body was sweating all over, his thumb on your clit drove you insane as he cock filled you up like never before. “yes sir, g-gonna cum.” 

this orgasm, your third one, was a lot softer than the first two. you made no noise as you came, the pleasure taking over your body so strongly. 

“fuck, that’s it, that’s it.” jake encouraged you, your walls suctioning around his cock, squeezing and creaming all over it. 

before you could even come down from your high, jake was pulling out of you. his hand jerking his cock at a fast pace as worked himself to an orgasm. 

“let me see your face,” jake demanded. you scrambled to your knees, lowering your face so his hard, red cock was over your face. “look at me.”

your eyes locked with his as you opened your mouth, wanting to catch some of his cum as he finally came. his grunts loud and mixed with curses and your name. his warm cum spurted and landed all over your face and tongue. 

“oh my god,” jake groans, watching his cum paint your face. he felt like he could cum again just from the sight. “fuck you’re such a good girl for me.” 

jake taps his sensitive cock on your tongue, letting your mouth enclose around it. you gently start to circle your tongue around the tip, wanting to clean up some of the mess he made. you could tell he was so sensitive, the way a long hiss left his mouth as he watched you. 

you popped his cock out of your once there was no more left over cum on his cock or in your mouth. jake leans down and kisses you, brushing your sweaty hair out of your face. “i’ll be right back, y/n.” 

you lay back on your bed as jake leaves to go to the bathroom. after a minute he comes back, a wet cloth in his hand. “let me clean you.” 

he starts with your face and neck, smearing off all his cum before it dries all over you. the sight of it makes his used cock twitch. then he trails the cloth down your body, teasing you almost before he spreads your legs. he gently wipes all the wetness in between your legs before he presses a kiss into your stomach and closes your legs again. he turns and leaves your bedroom. 

your eyes start to droop closed, tired from the activity that just occurred. 

you feel jake lay beside you, completely naked like you as he covers both of your bodies in your blanket. you feel his warmth beside you, and see how his bare chest moves up and down with each one of his breaths. 

jake’s the first one to break the silence. 

“i swear you’ll be the death of me.” 

you turn to look at his face, slightly sweaty with a red hue on his cheeks, “what do you mean?” 

“you’re just so hot, and sexy and cute. i never cum as hard as i do with you.” 

you bite your lip as you look at him, “you make me feel really good, jake. i’ve never came three times before.” both of you laugh, the feeling of your sore pussy leaves for a second as you hear his melodious giggle. 

jake’s eyes met yours and they turned serious, you heard him swallow harshly before speaking, “look, y/n,” his voice is soft but steady, “do you think we could do this again? i mean, i’d really like it if it could.” 

his question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. you thought about if it would be a good idea. thoughts of sunghoon and your friendship with him crossed your mind. but jake’s warm hand grazing across the thigh and the ache in your body reminded you that jake makes you feel good. “i want to, jake. but…” your voice trails off. 

“but what?” 

“but what about sunghoon?”

jake nodded against your pillow, “i get it. he’s our best friend, and i don’t want to hurt him or our friendship.” 

you sigh, your hand wrapping around jake’s bare torso, feeling unsure of when you would ever get to feel him again. “i know, it’s complicated. but i don’t want to give this up, jake. i want to see you again, wanna feel you again.”

jake leaned closer to you, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “we’ll be careful then. don’t worry about it, he won’t find out.”

you nodded against his chest, “okay, we’ll keep this between us for now– whatever this is.” 

you could feel jake smile on the top of your head. his arms wrapping around you and pulling your body against his. you hold each other close as sleep pulls you in. both of you tired and needy for each other. 

sunghoon crosses your mind for a second before you fall asleep. 

meanwhile, jake takes in the scent of your shampoo and laundry detergent, thinking about how lucky he is to have finally gotten you in some way. he’d like to call you his girlfriend one day– but he’ll take what he can get. and if sex and sneaking around behind sunghoon’s back is all you can give him, then he wouldn’t complain, as long as he gets to hold you close like this.

the morning light stream softly through your curtains. you stir in your bed from the sun hitting your eyes. you feel something warm wrapped around your waist and your eyes flutter open to see a tan arm tucked in. you suddenly remember your actions with jake from the night before. and how he is still currently in your bed. 

your eyes follow his arm to where his face was pressed against your pillow beside you. he is still relaxed in sleep, his dark hair tousled and a gentle smile playing on his lips. jake has always been very attractive, but right now he looks so handsome that it makes your stomach feel weird. 

from your subtle movements, jake’s eyes flutter open, meeting yours with a sleep affectionate gaze. "good morning," he murmurs, his voice husky from sleep. you hum back to him in response, your own smile on your face. 

but reality soon intruded on the serene moment. your heart skips a beat as you remember sunghoon. he must be home by now, and he would be awake any minute. panic flares in your chest, and you sit up abruptly, pulling the covers off yourself. "jake, we need to go," you whisper urgently, your eyes wide with alarm. "sunghoon can't know you stayed over."

jake's eyes widens with understanding, and he quickly moves to get dressed. you both scramble around the room, trying to be as quiet as possible. you glance at the clock, your heart racing. you have to be quick to avoid waking up sunghoon.

once you are both dressed, you tiptoe to the front door of the apartment. you open it slowly, making sure it doesn't creak. jake gives you a quick, reassuring kiss before slipping out. you watch him go, your heart heavy with a mix of longing and anxiety. you feel confused towards your feelings with jake. as soon as jake disappears around the corner, you close the door quietly, hoping you haven't made too much noise.

just as you are turning to head back to your room, you hear a voice behind you. "what are you doing?" sunghoon asks, emerging from his room and stretching. your heart skips a beat, but you quickly compose yourself, turning to face him with a casual smile.

"just...getting some water," you lie, trying to sound nonchalant. "i'm going back to bed now."

ou force a chuckle, feeling the awkwardness settle in your chest. "that sounds great. i'll see you later," you say, your voice slightly strained. you make your way back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you and leaning against it with a sigh of relief from avoiding sunghoon. but now, you need to think about what it is that you want with jake. 

a relationship that may or may not ruin your friendships with sunghoon? or a secret friends-with-benefits thing that seemingly would keep everyone happy? 

you sigh and know that it has to be the latter– despite the feelings in your heart that tell you you want more than just friends with jake.

a few weeks into your mutual-friends-with-benefits relationship with jake, your living room buzzes with laughter and chatter as you and sunghoon's friends gather for your a movie night. you and jake sit on opposite ends of the room, doing your best to act like just friends. it’s a delicate balance, hiding your feelings amidst the group. jake’s eyes occasionally flick over to you, a silent longing in his gaze that he tries to mask with casual conversation and laughter. you hope no one picks up on his staring. 

halfway through the movie, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. you discreetly pull it out and glance at the screen.

jake:[you look so good right now][8:57]

you bite your lip to suppress a smile. you look over at jake, who is watching you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. from across the room, you mouth, "stop." to him. 

jake:[please i need you so bad][8:58]

jake:[want my cock in your mouth][8:58]

you sigh, feeling your stomach start to flutter and know that you’re giving into him again.  you stand up, feigning a wince. "hey guys, i'm not feeling too well," you announce to the group, your voice wavering just enough to be convincing. "i think i'm going to head to my room and lie down for a bit."

concerned voices rise in a chorus, but you assure everyone you are fine and just need some rest. as you leave the room, you can feel jake's eyes on you, a promise that he will follow. you make your way to your bedroom, closing the door behind you, sitting on your bed and waiting for jake. 

the minutes feel like hours as you wait, the muffled sounds of the movie and your friends' laughter barely reaching you through the walls. eventually, you hear the sound of the movie ending and the goodbyes being exchanged. your heart races in anticipation to see him, to feel him.

finally, the apartment door clicks shut, signaling the departure of the last guest. moments later, your bedroom door creaks open, and jake slips inside, closing it softly behind him. the tension in the room shifts immediately, replaced by a charged, intimate atmosphere. jake crosses the room in a few quick strides, pulling you into his arms.

“hoon thinks i left,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. you laugh, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“i can’t stand seeing you and not being able to touch you.” you confess to him, your heart palpitating. 

“i know,” jake replies, pulling away to look at you, “i feel the same.” jake’s hand traces your jaw. 

you can’t look at him when you speak again, “i miss you when you aren’t with me. i think, i like you a lot more than just friends jake. a lot more than just hiding and, doing what we are doing.” 

jake feels like he could faint when the words leave your mouth. he’s had serious feelings for you since sunghoon had introduced him to you. it’s been so hard for him since he always thought you would never look at him more than just sunghoon’s other friend. but here you are, confessing your feelings to him first. 

jake doesn’t answer at first, he only pulls you closer to him, leaning down to kiss your now oh so familiar lips. you don’t reject his kiss, only allow yourself to relax into him. 

“i’ve liked you for so long, y/n. you have no idea.” 

“r-really?” 

“yes, since the day i met you.” 

you press your lips to his again, happiness filling both of you as you are hidden away in your room, away from the rest of the world and sunghoon. 

“now can you please suck me off? i’ve been hard since you walked out in those little shorts.”

you don’t hesitate to drop to your knees for him.

the next week, you and jake find yourselves feverishly making out on your couch. sunghoon has gone to the gym, giving you and jake a precious window of time to be together.

as soon as jake’s hands start to travel underneath your shirt, he front door opens unexpectedly. sunghoon steps in, gym bag slung over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

you and jake jump apart, your faces flushing with a mix of embarrassment and fear. you know you have been caught. sunghoon has seen the kiss, and there is no way to hide it now. "sunghoon, we can explain," jake begins, his voice filled with anxiety after a moment of silence between the three of you. all of you taking in what is happening. 

sunghoon sighs deeply, dropping his gym bag on the floor and sitting down in the chair across from you. "i know you guys have been seeing each other," he says, his tone surprisingly calm. a rush of guilt and anxiety washes over you and jake. you exchange worried glances, both certain that your friendship with sunghoon is over. 

"we're sorry," you say, your voice trembling. "we know you wouldn't want us together, and we didn't mean to betray you."

jake nods in agreement. "we just didn't want to hurt you or our friendship."

sunghoon shakes his head, a small, sad smile on his lips. "i'm not upset that you guys are together." you and jake look at each other in surprise.

"you're not?" you ask in unison, disbelief evident in your voices.

"no," sunghoon replies, his eyes meeting yours. "i'm upset that you guys didn't tell me. that you were sneaking around our apartment together and not letting me know."

you feel a pang of guilt. "how long have you known?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon sighs again, leaning back in his chair. "since i came back from that party when you were 'resting.' i heard you guys in your room."

you and jake feel a deeper sense of remorse. sunghoon has known from the beginning, and you underestimated him. "we felt like we couldn't tell you because we didn't want you to be caught in the middle if things went bad between us," jake explains, his voice filled with regret.

sunghoon shakes his head, a look of understanding in his eyes. "i don't care about that. i just care that both of my best friends are happy."

you stand up and move toward sunghoon, pulling him into a heartfelt hug. jake joins you, and for a moment, the three of you stand there, wrapped in an embrace that feels like a renewal of your friendship. you feel like the three of you can start fresh, but differently. differently in a good way. 

"we promise to tell each other everything from now on," you say, your voice thick with emotion.

"and no more sneaking around the apartment," jake adds with a chuckle, his relief evident.

sunghoon smiles, the tension lifting from his shoulders. "deal," he says, squeezing you both tightly. “but could you guys give me a warning before you guys have sex from now on, i’m so tired of putting earplugs in at 3am.” 

you cover your face in embarrassment, not being able to look at either of them as they burst out laughing together. 

maybe the mistaken text was a bad mistake after all if you have to deal with them making fun of your moans any longer.

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

[chococolte]

Your sagau zhongli is my fave! Devotion is soooo good he's so good!! If he were offered a reward, what would he ask for? He definitely deserves good things for being such a dedicated worshipper

word count. 1.6k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, sagau + cult au shit, religious themes, g/n reader.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. hi guys......... sorry i took so long to write this, and im so happy you like my characterization of him!!!! it means so much to me!!!

Your praise.

Zhongli has rarely ever wanted. 

When he was young, still arrogant and born of war, Zhongli didn't want— he took. He had no need of envy or desire. What he could not have, he would get in time. Immortality comes with an infinite patience. 

If he was still that god, flippant and self-important, maybe he would demand some sort of compensation. Some sort of recompense for past agony.

For as long as Zhongli's lived, he has never wanted; not in the way a mortal yearns for their lover, or the way a dog longs for its owner until it whines. Never in any way that mattered, never before he met you.

Zhongli has had eons to become used to the loneliness that so often encompasses him. And now, knowing that you breathe the same air as him, he's become rather acquainted with the ever consuming desire to nestle close to you, like ink caressing every pore of canvas. 

His desire runs through him— barking and loud, rapid and frantic— but when faced with you, a whisper, whimpering in the dark crevices of his ribs. At times, he comes close to asking you to hold him, but decorum and propriety keep him in place, tight and tense.

Liyue was built knowing your gaze followed him. Its foundations set, earth molded, and its rivers bent, hoping they would be fit to your liking. His every breath spent chasing after your favor, desiring to be remade in your image, to be exactly what you want him to be. Afraid that, when finally met with you, you will not like what you see.

Zhongli has rarely ever wanted, and rarer still, has he ever feared.

It's a mortal's fear. The fear of their lord displeased with their harvest. A boyish fear, made up of desperation and the fear of disapproval; one he shouldn't feel, one he should feel no familiarity with. One he suspects many have felt when within his own presence.

When you ask him what he would like in return for all of his efforts— a reward, you say— Zhongli feels his breath seized from him.

Zhongli lived much of his early life against you. At every opportunity, he rebelled at what he thought was a cruel god. Imperious and charged with Guizhong’s death, he would have demanded answers. 

For him to have lived while those he cared for perished without a moment's repose, for him to have survived every moment of cruel war when each breath was like a whip against his lungs— he deserved to know, if you were as real as Guizhong so staunchly believed, why he had lived in her place.

Yet, despite centuries of tempered rage, Zhongli has become content to live as nothing more than your servant. 

He tells you he wants for nothing. That all he desires now is the simplicity of being beside you; the escape of your laughter, where there's no need to concern himself with anything other than you. He tells you he only wishes to know how to take care of you better, how to align himself with your tastes and desires.

"I insist," you say, and Zhongli realizes it's a command. His mouth turns dry, and every word settles on his tongue like heavy weights, dead and still.

You stare, and his breath hitches, his heart a swell in his chest. Zhongli thinks of every answer, how your reaction to any could either breathe life into him, or leave him broken. How, for a moment, he amuses himself with the idea of asking for your touch— the cusp of your palm on his cheek, your fingers against his spine; how he could ask, and how you might favor him enough to do so. 

He then thinks of asking you for reassurance. For affirmation of forgiveness for the actions in his youth. To finally have the certainty that he hasn’t failed you, and maybe, the confirmation that you may care for him.

“Forgive me for my impropriety, Your Grace,” Zhongli begins, voice light and breathy. His hand rests on his chest, fighting the urge to dig into his skin, hoping to calm the pounding of his heart. “But… if I may, I was wondering if I had done right by you?”

You sit inertly in silence for a moment, and Zhongli wonders if it’s on purpose, some sort of punishment for daring to ask such a thing. You had no reason to reward him, and he had been blessed enough to hold your attention for longer than a moment. He had no right to ask for your thoughts, not so directly.

He thought he knew that. It was why he followed you, why he made sure your every request was completed to the highest standard. If you mentioned the taste of your tea being too bitter, or sweet, or that you’d rather he prepare something else for you entirely, he would rush to follow your word. Even if he had been the one to brew it, even if it was him who cultivated the leaves, even if he thought it would be to your liking.

All he needed was to be helpful. All he needed was you. Within you, was his salvation— within you, was love itself. Without you, the once great Lord of Geo was but a fragmented elemental wisp of energy, only ever calling your name.

A spike of adrenaline rushes through him, fear and anxiety denying any sense of hope. All he hears is the solitary sound of his heart in his ears. 

“You have only ever done good by me.”

Zhongli’s heart lurches, heat rippling through his body. You say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and his mind feels dizzy at the implication. The ground sways, and his feet feel light. 

“You deserve more than that, I think.” You step forward, and Zhongli is so lost within his own thoughts, he takes no notice of your sudden increase in proximity— but his breath still quickens, and red still coats the apples of his cheeks. 

“Kneel,” you whisper, and though you say it so softly, it's as though the sky had been torn asunder with the speed he responds. Zhongli’s mind still feels far away, but he hears your orders as if spoken directly into his ear.

He drops to his knees, no care for whether he does so elegantly enough. All he can focus on is the weight of your gaze, and the way he's the only thing under it.

“Do you want me to praise you?” You trace his jawline with your finger, still speaking in a soft, unhurried tone. “Do you want me to tell you how much of a good boy you are?”

Zhongli inhales sharply, fighting every thought that screams at him to eagerly lean into your hand. He stares up at you, russet lashes fluttering and amber eyes swallowed by adoration and worship. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” he whispers hoarsely. 

Your thumb swipes over his lower lip, and a whine rises to the back of his throat. 

“My good boy.” Zhongli’s entire body shudders, his chest heaving. A shaky breath escapes him. “You've been waiting to hear that for so long, haven't you?”

He whimpers, then nods in a way he hopes doesn’t come across as overeager— quickly bereft of any sense of propriety, or care for whether or not he’s making a fool of himself. All he can concern himself with is how close you are, how easily your scent renders him still, how quickly he borders on senseless. 

You smile at that, and he bites his tongue to stop himself from whimpering. 

“Do you want me to tell you how grateful I am?” Your fingers move across his neck, brushing against his Adam’s Apple, watching it bob as he gulps, trying to keep himself steady and not fall against you. “How you're my favorite?”

An ugly sound rips from Zhongli’s throat, and it's one he's instantly ashamed of. Every part of him feels bare in front of you, laid out messy and without decorum. The mask he’s worn for eons steadily breaks, and every one of his veins and bones scream out for your warmth. 

The Lord of Geo wouldn’t have ever allowed himself to be so vulnerable. He never would have amused himself with the thought of pleading for anything, or kneeling and falling apart because he was treated softly— least of all, of being so desperate to know that you love him; that you favor him. 

Zhongli, now without his Gnosis, is as mortal as the men he used to lord over. And perhaps it’s his newfound mortality that moves him to lean into your hand, frantically trying to meld your fingers against his skin until his flesh is like clay inlaid with your fingertips; hoping that you’ll rebuild him until he fits your desires, and tell him again that he’s proven to have done good by you. 

Every thought is a prayer, another hymn, another psalm.

“Am I? Your favorite?” 

His voice trembles, and breathes into a soft whisper. Zhongli doesn’t mean to sound so desperate— he doesn’t mean to be so greedy— but his soul has never felt so full before. His mind is so mired by your touch and voice that he doesn’t realize his lack of formality, or how he might come across as arrogant. 

He wants only to think of you, and so he does. Nothing else matters.

“Yes.” You chuckle, and his heart speeds up at the sound, fervent. “Why would I want anyone else?”

Zhongli whines, and faintly, through the blur of fanaticism and worship, thinks that no matter what you asked of him, he would do it without hesitation. 

[supernovasilence]

Ok we all talk about the Pevensies' trauma at returning to Earth at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and their trouble readjusting to life there again but think of all the funny/good parts too

They return from the country, and their mom is surprised when all her children hug her at the station. Even Peter, who thinks he's all grown up. Even Edmund, who went away surly and withdrawn. She doesn't know her children haven't seen her in over a decade.

They miss their dear Cair Paravel, but they absolutely do not miss its chamber pots. Indoor plumbing is amazing.

It takes a while to remember how modern technology works, though. How many heart attacks did the siblings give their parents or the professor because they walked into a dark room only to turn on the light and find the children sitting there in the dark. (They were by the window! There was still plenty of light from the sunset! They would have gotten a candle in a minute!) The kids sheepishly remember oh yeah electricity is a thing.

(Edmund has a new electric torch in Prince Caspian. He was so excited to get that torch. Almost more excited than you'd think a kid his age would be, and his parents expect Peter at least to tease him, but the siblings all agree light in your hand at the touch of a switch is terrific.)

Suddenly getting really high grades in some subjects and terrible in others. Their grammar, reading comprehension, spelling, vocab, even penmanship? Amazing. History and geography? They don't remember anything. One time in class Susan forgets Earth is round and wants to die.

Also they can never remember what the date is supposed to be because Narnia uses different months and years. They can estimate time really well by looking at the sun though, and Edmund at least can always tell which way is north etc without thinking about it (again, using the sun)

Okay but how many times did they go to pick something up or reach something and realize they are so much shorter and less muscled than they expect? It's a common sight to see Peter climbing on counters to reach a top cabinet, grumbling about how he's High King this is demeaning. (No he never takes the extra five seconds to grab a stool. He will climb that shelf.)

Peter and Susan being delighted because they are no longer almost thirty. (In a few years Edmund and Lucy will tease them about being old and their parents will not understand.)

Lucy doesn't have to deal with periods anymore for a few years yet. Susan might not either. Heck yeah

Lucy loves to climb into her siblings' laps and be cuddled. In Narnia she eventually she grew too big, but now she is small and snuggleable again. Peter is her favorite, and if she's upset, he'll tickle her and tell bad jokes until she's smiling again, but really she loves cuddling with all her family. She grew up without her parents; how many times did she just want to crawl into her mom's lap and her mom was a world away? Imagine the first time she realizes she can now. Or, imagine one day, a cold and grey sort of day, when the rain is pattering against the windows, and it sounds like the rain on the windows of the Professor's house, that first day they went exploring. It sounds like the day they played hide and seek. It sounds so like the rain on the windows of Cair Paravel, that if Lucy closes her eyes she can imagine she's back there, having tea and chatting with Mr. Tumnus before the fireplace of her room, and soon the rain will stop, and they will go out on the balcony and wave to the naiads and the dryads and the mermaids, who have come out to enjoy the rain and visit one other on the banks of the Great River winding past Cair Paravel down to the sea.

But if Lucy looks out the window, all she'll see is the rain over London, so it's not only a cold and grey sort of day, it's a lonely sort of day too.

Susan and Edmund are playing chess in the living room (and they must have studied with Professor Kirke, thinks their mother, because they certainly weren't that good when they left). Lucy goes over to Edmund, and oh dear, thinks their mother, now he's going to call her a baby and be horrible to her, but instead he picks her up and puts her on his lap without even taking his eyes off the chessboard; it's simply a matter of course.

"Doesn't the rain sound familiar?" says Lucy in a solemn, wistful way.

Their mother doesn't know what that means, but her siblings must, because Susan says, "Yes, Lu, it does,” and Edmund gives her a little hug with his free arm as she tucks herself under his chin to watch the chess match.

(Five minutes later there is a crash from the next room as Peter falls off a counter. Their mother does not understand the words he must have picked up from the Professor, but he's grounded for them anyway. His siblings have no respect for their High King, because they refuse to stop laughing.)

[vintagepublishing]

🍒 An Excerpt from Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin 🍒

"Giovanni had awakened an itch, had released a gnaw in me. I realized it one afternoon, when I was taking him to work via the Boulevard Montparnasse. We had bought a kilo of cherries and we were eating them as we walked along. We were both insufferably childish and high-spirited that afternoon and the spectacle we presented, two grown men jostling each other on the wide sidewalk and aiming the cherry pits, as though they were spitballs, into each other's faces, must have been outrageous. And I realized that such childishness was fantastic at my age and the happiness out of which it sprang yet more so; for that moment I really loved Giovanni, who had never seemed more beautiful than he was that afternoon. And, watching his face, I realized that it meant much to me that I could make his face so bright, I saw that I might be willing to give a great deal not to lose that power. And I felt myself flow toward him, as a river rushes when the ice breaks up. Yet, at that very moment, there passed between us on the pavement another boy, a stranger, and I invested him at once with Giovanni's beauty and what I felt for Giovanni I also felt for him. Giovanni saw this and saw my face and it made him laugh the more. I blushed and he kept laughing and then the boulevard, the light, the sound of his laughter turned into a scene from a nightmare. I kept looking at the trees, the light falling through the leaves. I felt sorrow and shame and panic and great bitterness. At the same time—it was part of my turmoil and also outside it—I felt the muscles in my neck tighten with the effort I was making not to turn my head and watch that boy diminish down the bright avenue. The beast which Giovanni had awakened in me would never go to sleep again; but one day I would not be with Giovanni anymore. And would I then, like all the others, find myself turning and following all kinds of boys down God knows what dark avenues, into what dark places? With this fearful intimation there opened in me a hatred for Giovanni which was as powerful as my love and which was nourished by the same roots." Scene art of Giovanni and David walking the Boulevard du Montparnasse created by the talented @emilypaik​. Commissioned for Tumblr by Vintage Books in celebration of the James Baldwin Centenary.

[rie-092]

FATHER, CAN I DIE?

✶﹒ platonic yandere! manhwa fathers x suicidal/overworked daughter! reader

summary : maybe they should just lock you in your room to make sure that you won't do something dangerous.

a.n : i plan to make this a series, what do you think?

abel heilon

let's start with the most chill platonic yandere! out of the guys that i will feature in this post! abel heilon, the duke of the north with a simple mindset of 'if you mess with me then i'll mess with ya' we all know how protective he is with fiona and siegren. but just imagine, what if— just what if he has an illegitimate child who's related to him by blood that he hid from the public's eyes.

anyways, the first time he met you. he became sure of one thing. damn, you were indeed his child. with that silver hair, blue eyes and personality of yours— you were indeed his child. he can't deny that because you looked like a kid version of him. well, it's not like he is denying it tho— but what the fuck is wrong with your brain anyways?!

he doesn't know if you were abused before he met you. but why in the hell are you so obsessed with suicide anyways?! why the fuck are you even throwing yourself in battles when you were a support mage?! for the fuck sake! stop! yes, you have above average amount of mana! but the hell?! you're not as strong as fiona nor siegren! stop it!

if it's not for siegren then he wouldn't know the fact that you happily greeted the assassin that was sent by the imperial family. according to him, before siegren saved you from the assassin you even have the guts to propose to that damn assassin about committing suicide together since according to you, you have fallen in love with him— hearing that story, abel couldn't help but facepalm. (first name), you're thirteen! and that assassin is already thirty-six or worse, older!

maybe because of the stress of managing the north and keeping you safe from your suicide attempts. abel finally snapped.

look, abel likes watching you enjoying your freedom. but damn, if he doesn't do anything about this— he might end up burying you before you even reach the age of 18. he won't hurt you, he swears. that was the last thing that he will do to you. but that doesn't mean that he can't take preventive measures to make sure that you were safe.

platonic yandere! abel heilon was one of the chillest platonic yandere that existed. he will let you do anything that you want, he won't take away your freedom nor hurt you. he isn't also overbearing to the point that it was suffocating. but don't make him snap, because he can be the most suffocating and controlling parent existed.

now, on your sixteenth birthday— to celebrate it. you decided to jump onto the freezing river near the manor. you expected that you'll wake up inside your room— but no. when you opened your eyes, you were inside an unfamiliar room that has no windows. seeing that you can't use your magic, you were sure that there's a magic restricting device placed around here. what the hell is happening?

the door had opened, you looked at who it was and saw abel looking at you with a smug grin. you tried to ask him what is going on but instead of replying— abel only ruffled your hair saying that it will be only him and you from now on. and that was when you realized one thing— abel had taken your freedom away from you.

but abel didn't care. cry until you have no tears left, he doesn't care. the only thing that he cared about was keeping you alive. and this is the only thing that he know to achieve his goal. but don't worry, he will visit you everyday and give you books to make sure that you won't get bored. so, can you stop being a btch and appreciate his efforts?

he doesn't care if your eyes lost its usual enthusiasm and spark. he doesn't care if you stop eating at some point— because abel can shove the food inside your mouth to make sure that you stay alive.

oh, by the way— fiona was the one who made the room where you were staying now. she just wanted to make sure that you were safe! and the only place where you can be safe is the place where you can't use magic! so, forgive them, will ya?

“should i just cut off your arms? so that you won't be able to use your magic again?”

gallahan lombardy

okay, as far as you know— you are not really a suicidal type of person. but for your father, gallahan lombardy you are. because for gallahan, overworking is another way to try to kill yourself after all.

gallahan is a sweet person, i swear. he won't hurt you at all and isolating you? no, no, no, gallahan won't do that! but he still couldn't help but become paranoid when it came to you. you were way too focused on studying— maybe because of the pressure that you were getting from the other people.

your sleep only lasted for two or four hours, you always isolate yourself inside the library. and gallahan didn't like it at all— look, you need to take it easy and rest. the only time you leave the library was when gallahan and tia drag you outside to eat in a cafe or buy new clothes.

platonic yandere! gallahan loves to spoil you. you wanted to buy books? here you go. want to try home-cooked foods? sure, he'll cook it for you. do you want to go to the festival with tia? alright! as long as he will go with you two.

but then, a certain event made gallahan snap. it was a normal day and gallahan entered the library to drag you outside so that you could socialize with the family. but then, he saw you unconscious on the floor, buried in the books and your nose was bleeding. gallahan was panicking, he didn't know what to do. what if you don't wake up? what if something bad happens to you? or worse— what if you die? if it wasn't for shananet who saw her younger brother's panicked face and her niece's condition. then gallahan won't be able to calm down and call the family doctor.

and what is the doctor's diagnosis? you were overworked. and after hearing that, rulac lombardi, your grandfather along with your auntie and uncles saw how your father's face darkened while looking at you who was peacefully sleeping on the bed.

and then, after that incident. you couldn't help but become confused when gallahan didn't scold you— instead, when you woke up. you saw him smiling softly at you. he didn't even ask you to take it easy. he just lets you do what you want.

but what you found odd was your father started giving you foods and drinks everytime and after consuming those things. you started feeling tired and before you knew it, you always ends up asleep. and once you woken up, you were already on your room. with tia cuddling with you while your father was asleep while sitting on the chair next to your bed also asleep.

knowing how innocent your father was, you never suspect a thing. you just kept on eating and drinking the things that he was giving to you. and you never questioned why you always get tired after it. your father loves you so much, so he wouldn't do anything— right?

plot twist, gallahan actually puts drug on your food and drinks to make sure that you will take a rest and never overwork yourself again. but a year later, you started losing your sense of sight because of it. but gallahan and tia don't care when you have them? oh, just thinking about their sweet (first name) being dependent on them was enough to make them very happy.

“sorry, honey! this is just a precaution, okay?”

[hanibalistic]

#946C47 | SUN WUKONG.

genre | fluff

word count | 3738

warning | minor lewd thoughts from wukong / potential ooc + not accurate to jttw​

note | annoying monkey man i was forced to study back in middle school came back hot?

part | one, two, three

The ripe peach in front of you looked suspicious. Even though you thought yourself hungry enough to eat the fruit in one bite, you held back and raised a brow at the monkey sitting cross-legged in front of you instead. 

The river stream flowed like it had never seen disaster once, and perhaps the bed of clear water really hadn't. You wouldn't know until you figure out where you are, which has proven itself to be a difficult feat. You have prioritized coming to terms with the fact that you’ve been transported inside a fictional story above all else. 

Part of you wanted to say you were on Mount Huaguo because it was where you met Wukong, but the grouping of Bajie, Sanzhang, and Wujing told you otherwise. If you remember the tale you studied in high school, they should be on their trip to acquire scriptures. You have yet to figure out which of the 81 catastrophes they were facing, and you would like to stay in the dark about that, as figuring it out would mean you've been roped into one of them as well. 

To be fair, you might have accidentally become the 82nd catastrophe Wukong has to face by accidentally teleporting to his world. If helping a modern person return to their home was such a huge issue. 

You thought it must be, though, because the group had collectively decided to halt their significant journey so Wukong could focus on taking you to the celestial court, where you were more likely to find people who could bring you home. 

It was a huge sacrifice on his part, considering his interesting experiences with the likes of those associated with heaven. That much you understood, and you would thank him a million times and more if he was more serious about the concept of communication. Sometimes, trying to chat with him was like talking with a middle school kid who still finds fart jokes humorous.

"This is a regular peach," you said, your voice filled with doubt. 

“No, it’s a rock I changed into a peach. I want you to lose all your teeth!” Wukong exclaimed. He pushed his fingers at his upper lip to reveal his canines, but his grin faded when you responded with deadpan eyes. Retracting his hands, he blinked at you incredulously, the hair around his eyes swaying in disbelief over your distrust. Pulling a face at your seriousness, he nodded. "Yes. It is a regular peach."

"You picked it from a tree," you said. 

"Yes," he replied nonchalantly. 

"How come it took you so long?" 

“Peach trees don’t come for free. The closest one was far away.”

"I thought you were a fast monkey."

"I was taking a stroll through the forest."

He would do that. You told him you were hungry, and he had repeatedly made fun of your stomach growls. He knew you were starving for food—the kind of food you were used to eating, which was limited to the fruits growing on trees, and you wouldn't be surprised if he took his sweet time picking a single peach anyway. 

"Okay," you said as you picked the peach up and weighed it in your palm. It was useless. You never learned how much a real, good peach should weigh. "I'm not going to accidentally bite down on a clone."

"Oh, dear," he mused, putting a hand over his heart to feign disappointment. "That is most terrible! I would never do that to you!" 

“You have, for more times than I can count with both of my hands, shape-shifted into a rock just to watch me panic.”

"That I did! But the real issue is, you gullible one–“ he picked up his staff and playfully knocked the end against your head–“you fell for it more than ten times!”

You pursed your lips at his reaction. The trickster smile playing on his lips provided you no reassurance that he hadn't planned a prank to pull on you. At the same time, you realized the trick he was pulling may be paranoia, where you were the butt of the joke for believing he would waste a pluck of his hair just to watch you freak out over biting his clone.

Or perhaps the Wukong in front of you was the clone, and the real one was the peach in your hand.

"Wukong," you called softly, an exhausted exhale burning through your lips. "I'm really hungry."

He softened after a few seconds, his lips tightening into a thin line as he awkwardly looked away. 

You’ve fallen for his tricks multiple times despite knowing what kind of character he was. 

Him pushing you off tall cliffs just to catch you with the nimbus cloud; him turning himself into a rock so you’d think he had abandoned you in the middle of a forest full of monsters; jumping around trees and bursting through bushes like a maniac to scare you at night—repeatable pranks that overwhelmed you with fear and anger. 

You were too gullible was his accuse, but he knew more than anyone the problem was his tendency for trickery. You were never wrong for trusting him, and under particular circumstances, Wukong’s loyalty to you was engraved in his bones. It was evident in his ever-near presence and readiness to protect you from danger.

Otherwise, though, acting rather barbaric wasn’t a habit he could completely rid himself of. 

He didn't used to care at all about how you felt. Without Sanzhang here to tighten his gold fillet, he had been free to fool around at will until one incident when he accidentally dropped you in a cave that was the home to a wild yaoguai and ignored your panicked cries for help in an attempt to garner his sympathy.

You hadn't the energy to be mad at him after he saved you. He was used to your anger, your strengthless fists knocking at his chest, and a mouthful of empty threats he never took to heart. You didn’t do any of those that time, and neither could you move on from the corner you had scrambled toward after he hopped down to defeat the monster. 

Rigid like a stone and unresponsive as if you couldn't hear him, it didn't take Wukong long to realize you were in shock from almost being fatally attacked. 

He had to pick you up and carry you for the rest of the day. Your legs had been as weak as jelly, and all you did was cry to his shoulder, your arms curling around his neck as if he were a genuine savior. It hit him like an earthquake how small you were compared to himself—your muscles lacked confidence, and your movements were without skill.

You weren’t immortal; one mere strike would end you.

Wukong almost choked himself at the thought. His grip on your back and under your knees tightened to pull you closer to him. He didn’t apologize, but he swore on his many immortal lives that he would never pull any pranks on you again. 

Sanzhang has the tightening spell to stop the monkey king from fooling around. All you needed to carry was yourself. 

"Of course, you're hungry. You're such a picky eater," Wukong scolded as he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just a peach. I promise."

You squinted at his honest face, then leaned in to catch yourself in his eyes. he tensed up, his breath stopping in his nose and the hair on his neck standing abruptly upon the proximity. The contrast of a physiological response to extreme cold to the burning heat souring his veins was uncomfortable, not in a way that produced hatred but rather a reawakening. 

A reawakening that, within these past few months, on your journey together to get you the help you needed to return home, he has developed an attachment to you. 

“It's a normal peach! Take it or leave it!" 

You scoffed and leaned back, ignoring his attitude. Wukong pressed his palm to his jaw and rested his weight on it. His eyes darted away to avoid you, but once the shyness reduced from his body, they slowly returned to watch you admire the ripe peach in your hands.

"Boo!" he screamed when you bit the fruit. 

"Ah!" You flinched and dropped the fruit from your palm. A golden glow engulfed it before hitting the floor, stilling the fruit in the air. You clicked your tongue at the sight and perked up, your furrowed brows not at all intimidating. "Sun Wukong!" 

He laughed. The sound was boisterous as usual, enough to make the leaves roar and the crows fly. "You're such a scaredy cat!" 

"I'm–" you held back a denial–"I just didn't want to hurt your clone."

His laughter slowed to a final chuckle, and then he shrugged. It was a useless precaution, but he warmed at the fact that you even thought about it. "You can't hurt me." 

"Well, I don't intend to," you said after you caught the peach in your hands. You nodded at him. "Thank you for the food."

You began to admire the peach again, then you took a bite and marveled at its taste. Wukong snickered endearingly at how you acted like you've never had a good peach before. His heart rested easy as you devoured it whole, and he ignored how your lips glimmered beneath the coat of your saliva. 

Apparently, promises meant nothing to the monkey king because a few weeks or so after you took a bite of the peach, you two were taken to the celestial court for a crime. 

It took him so long to find a peach on a tree, which the forest was riddled with, was because it wasn't a regular peach you ate. It was an immortal peach. He went to steal it from the peach garden in heaven. 

“Have you any idea what you’ve done?”

"Good grief, you really are handsome."

"What?" Wukong's questioning voice snapped you out of your trance. 

You shook your head and blinked harshly to rid yourself of the embarrassment. You have just been notified that you were granted 3000 years of life because you ate a forbidden fruit from a place you didn't even believe in ten seconds ago, and all you could exclaim was that Erlang Shen has got to be the most attractive man you've ever seen, just as the stories described him as. 

His third eye was off-putting, though. It was not because you weren't used to seeing a person with an extra eye, but because you didn't like that he could see through you like transparent glass. You tried to focus on the bright side of it—he would know that you and Wukong were telling the truth, that you were not a fraud. 

"I'm sorry. I don't..." your breath hitched when you noticed the four heavenly kings staring at you. You wondered if they even heard your meek voice. Stepping back, you hid behind Wukong, shrinking your shoulders and lightly grasping his sleeve. "I don't know."

He glanced at your grip on his battered shirt. Your reliance on him sent a shiver down his spine. Looking up at Erlang, Wukong shrugged. “I did what I thought was best.”

“Care to elaborate, monkey?”

“This mortal is not of this world. The only reason I even traveled all this way to face you insolent lots was because my master and I have decided you may be the only ones capable of sending them back!” Wukong clarified. 

“He's not lying!” you added hastily, unaware of where the abrupt courage came from. “I am not from here. I came from the twenty-first century–uhh…” You sighed defeatedly. “You won’t know what that means.” 

“The path to the celestial court is too rigorous. For the mortal’s safety, I must provide them with a second option.”

Erlang frowned. He couldn’t deduce an ounce of deception from Wukong or you. Your words were confusing, but they rang true. He tilted his head, accessing you further with his third eye, and then he hummed, “Where did you come from?”

“I… um…” you fidgeted with your fingers. “I was on a plane. There was awful turbulence, and I think it was crashing. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was here.”

“Monkey, do you understand their words?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Wukong replied. “They have attempted to explain things to me, but it all sounded like impossible ideas. A flying building that can carry more than thirty people at a time? There’s simply no way.”

“It’s not a building. It’s a plane,” you clarified. 

“You said it’s as big as a building!” 

“I am comparing the sizes so you have a better idea of how big a plane is,” you said. “I’m not saying a plane is a building.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“Silence!” 

Goosebumps appeared all over your skin at Erlang’s holler. Wukong shut his eyes and clicked his tongue in annoyance, unfazed by the wind that blew past you both.

“It was a good choice not to deceive me,” Erlang said. “But even then, nothing explains why you stole an immortal peach from the garden and gave it to a human.”

“The path to the celestial court is rigorous,” Wukong argued. “It is riddled with yaoguais, abandoned murals cursed to hell and back, and uneven grounds. A mortal would die before they make it here.”

“That’s because they weren’t supposed to.”

“How do you suggest they return home, you three-eyed freak?” Wukong said. 

“They cannot,” Erlang informed. “ After eating the peach, we mustn’t allow their departure with 3000 years of life. You shouldn’t have given them one.”

“I gave them one so they can have a shot at getting all the way here to seek the help they need! My actions are justified!”

Erlang remained silent for a moment. His eyes darted between you and Wukong. One of you reeked of partial deception; his third eye gleamed with an uncomfortable redness that forced you to look away. Before you could, your attention shifted to the man who called upon you.

“Mortal,” Erlang started with a calculative smile. He released his weapon into thin air, and it vanished. Then, he placed a hand behind his back and the other before his abdomen. “Have you any idea what this monkey thinks of you?”

“Huh? I–“ You looked at Wukong, who glared at Erlang with a conversation you couldn’t hear. “I don’t know. He protected me all this time so I suppose we are good friends.”

“Good friends!” Erlang boasted. He turned to Wukong, nodding humorously. “Did you hear that, monkey? After all the effort!”

“Erlang.”

“Mortal! Do you know the monkey dreams about you intimately?” 

“Erlang Shen!”

Wukong’s staff appeared in his hands as he lunged at the man. He raised it in the air, ready to pierce the pole through his forehead, only to catch Erlang raising his hand and motioning it toward your direction. Wukong swallowed a gasp, his head snapping over to where you stood. His body maneuvered away from Erlang to you, and a bolt of lightning hit the gold staff along with the spear before dissipating. The spear, too, returned to its owner. 

You blinked. Not a flinch ripped over your body, and that was not the result of a delayed reaction but rather a learned response. For as long as you have stayed with Wukong, there has only been one occasion when danger barely scraped past you. Besides that, you have never been scratched. Wukong hasn’t allowed one mistake. You’ve gotten so used to his presence as a symbol of safety that you didn’t flinch when Erlang Shen threw his spear at you.

Wukong would catch it. You knew, and he did. You remained unscathed.

Erlang stilled his movement to wait for the unfolding of the interaction to be contrived. He didn’t need to do anything physical to Wukong. This confrontation would probably be punishment enough. After all, the monkey king has fallen in love with a mortal. 

Staring up at the back of his head, you twirled your thumbs as you recalled what Erlang said. “Wukong… you…”

He hissed timidly, sparing a short glance behind his shoulder before looking away as he lowered his staff. How could Erlang have figured that out so quickly? It must have meant those thoughts consumed him, and indeed they did. Every night, at the very least, when you slept next to him. He tried not to look at you a lot, staring at the moon to distract himself. Yet, his mind remained full. 

The moon's beauty wasn’t enough to deter him from thinking about you. Skin bare, clothes torn; trapped beneath his weight, hands restrained, eyes barely opened; glistening with sweat and drool, trembling between uncontrollable pants of his name. What nonsense that he thought the moon could distract him. If the moon saw what he dreamt of, she would even have to stand and admire you. 

“I’m sorry,” Wukong muttered. “I’ll cease my mind of such impurities at once.” 

“No, that’s–I’m…” you shook your head. 

The notion of him thinking of you in that light was surprising, but to say you weren’t the slightest bit flattered was a lie. Nobody back in your world has ever taken a liking toward you. Yet, all of a sudden, possibly the strongest being in this set universe has a thing for you? You didn’t mind it at all. How many people could proudly say the sun Wukong was attracted to them? Not a lot! Granted, people back in your world would consider you insane, but still! what an exciting achievement!

That wasn’t the issue, though. 

“You could have brought me here long ago,” you said.

He made a roundtrip to and from heaven’s peach garden within a few minutes just to get you that immortal peach. The trip to the celestial court was unnecessary. He could have escorted you there in a week. Plus, the extended lifespan given to you by the immortal peach—after all the meddling with the celestial court, he must have known that you wouldn’t be allowed to leave this place with it, too.

“You don’t want me to leave,” you whispered. “You did this on purpose.”

Erlang clapped. “Very well deduced, mortal.”

“You!” You whipped your head over at his joyous demeanor, your nose scrunched and your eyes scratching up a fire, ready to burst through your lips. With hands curled into fists, you stomped over to the man with an accusing finger in the air. “You find this so amusing, don’t you?”

“Wait, don’t!” Wukong reached a hand out for you a second too late. 

“All you care about is your feud with Wukong, and you don’t notice how a single, stupid peach has disregarded all my effort to get here!” you exclaimed in Erlang’s face, frustrated tears rounding your eyes. “This is my livelihood! Do you understand that? I came to you for help, and you pawn my life for a moment of triumph against the monkey!”

“He’s not the terrible one. You are!” 

“Hey! Calm down–“ Wukong gripped your arm and pulled you behind him, shielding you as he stared at the three-eyed man stunned.

He wasn't sure how Erlang would react to your outburst, especially when you associated him with traits he despised. No mortal has ever been bold enough to speak to a God with such aggression, even when deeply angered. Watching the long-haired man like a hawk, ensuring he could catch even the faintest twitch of a finger, Wukong lowered his voice when he spoke for your sake.

“Erlang, they didn’t mean it." He blocked your whole figure behind him when Erlang looked up. "They’re very family-oriented and don't take any setbacks lightly.”

The God didn't speak for a while, and you almost took his silence as a sign that he felt disrespected. He should; you did disrespect him!

“No, I understand. I’ve also gone through quite the ordeal for my family,” Erlang muttered, though his eyes seemed lost in the clouds from your accusation.

Clearing his throat, he met your surprised eyes carefully and sighed. You were right. This didn't concern his relationship with Wukong. Even the monkey has enough heart to return to this damned place just to get you some help (disregarding the tricks he's done). He should be better than that.

“I will ask around to see if there is any way to send you home, but something must be done to take away the 3000 lives before you return.” 

You sniffed away the tears. “What do you suggest?”

“There are temples scattered across the path to the West. Each housing a Buddha with the power to take one’s soul. Travel to them and ask for their help,” Erlang said. “I don’t recommend too much at a time, as the ordeal is a mimicry of death. I don’t believe a Buddha would be willing to descend so much pain at once either.”

You closed your eyes. You anticipated that hurdle. “Thank you.” 

“You’re most welcome,” he replied. “I wish you luck. I wish both of us luck.”

With a light shove of his hand, a strong wind blew you off the cloudy ground, and you quickly fell toward the ground. Wukong hopped onto the nimbus cloud and chased after you, catching you swiftly in his arms.

“Let’s go find my master,” he muttered. “He should know what to do from here.”

“Okay,” you said. “3000 times, that’s a lot.” 

“I’m sorry for everything,” he said. 

You were upset with his decision, but logically, you also understood why he did it. If you fell in love and found out they would soon be leaving you, you’d do anything to delay the inevitable, too. The methods would be mundane for you because of the lack of magic in your world, but judging by that logic, feeding you an immortal peach was also mundane to Wukong.

“If there’s a way for me to die those 3000 times for you, I will,” he added. 

You bit your lower lip to hide the unexpected smirk. Perhaps part of you were relieved that you got to stay with him longer. Clutching his shirt in your hand, you leaned against his chest and watched the world pass you by.

“Wukong,” you called suddenly. There was something you wanted to ask him. 

“Yeah?”

“What exactly happens in your dreams about me?”

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Sweet Like Wine

Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav

Summary: Your monthly bleed is over—just in time for you and Astarion to find yourselves with a bit of alone time. You might not be able to feed your vampire as easily, but there's another hunger for the two of you to satiate.

Word Count: 9,154 words of filth

Warnings: sexual content (18+), soft Astarion, vulnerable Astarion, slightly insecure Astarion, mention of past sexual trauma, pet names, Astarion still doesn't realize he's loved for more than his body,

18+ Warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving, m receiving), touching over clothes, naked grinding, bite kink, blood kink, soft sex, creampie, aftercare, use of the words pussy, dick, cunt & cock, mentions of reader's period

Burns Like Rum (part 1) found {here}

Epilogue Blood is Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine coming soon!

Note: Thank you for all the love on the first part! I'm glad everyone loved it! Here's the second part :)

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Rain was coming. You had smelled it on the air for several days now, an altogether pleasant scent that reminded you of fast-flowing rivers in a pine forest, distinctly earthy and cold.

The first day you'd smelled it, so had Astarion, stopping every few seconds to sneeze and then complain about his heightened sense of smell being trigged by weather.

You had taken to sleeping in Astarion’s tent with him over the past few days, enjoying each other’s company while you waited for your period to end. He was enjoying getting fed nightly, and you were enjoying learning about him after he gave you the night of your life.

Well, enjoying was perhaps not the right word for your experience. You were glad he trusted you enough to tell you about the things Cazador had made him do. You were grateful he felt safe enough to be vulnerable with you. But your heart broke every time he told you a little more, his voice low and tired and broken, reciting his past like it was a crime he was ready to be locked up for. And, by gods, how your hatred for Cazador grew.

It wasn’t like you had ever liked the thought of Astarion’s vampiric master. Anyone who had killed this man (who you weren’t quite sure how you felt about but knew you cared for more than anyone else you’d ever known) was evil in your book. But Cazador... Cazador made devils look like saints in your eyes.

You packed up the last remnants of your camp the morning after Astarion had whispered to you about his year encased in stone, slight trembles in his body and growing more violent the longer he'd talked. You'd held him close that night, holding his hand and sliding your fingers through his hair to comfort him. But now you were brooding in the weak morning sun, contemplating which way you'd most like to kill Cazador.

Not that you would—that right was Astarion's, should he wish it. If the time came and he decided he couldn't do it alone, well, then you'd employ one of your many planned strategies to make that bastard suffer for everything he'd done to Astarion and his siblings.

You had decided last night to move on from the place you'd been camped for over a week. You'd been there too long; people had begun to stumble upon your tents, and it was only a matter of time before someone realized Astarion was a vampire or that Gale had a weapon in his chest and decided to try and kill them.

Wyll had gone scouting last night before the sun had set and had reported a town in the distance—near enough to reach before sunset, but only if you got moving as soon as dawn broke. So, you got up early, woke up your grouchy companions, and started breaking down camp. You were on the road less than an hour later.

You walked beside Astarion, both of you weighed down by your packs, your hands swinging beside each other. The backs of your hands kept brushing. You were so distracted by it and the thought that maybe, just maybe, you would take his hand the next time they brushed, that you didn't notice the others watching.

A twinge in your side made you hiss and bring your other arm to it, on the place of an old scar. The pain was a familiar, soft throb—a telling sign that the storm you'd been smelling was getting closer.

"Is your wound still alright?" Shadowheart asked you, shocking you out of your mind, and gesturing to your abdomen. The gash had healed up nicely, little more than some light, pale scarring now, but the phantom pains lingered. They struck at random and had become a cause of concern amongst the entire camp.

You nodded. "It's fine. I haven't felt anything yet. It's just...old wounds acting up."

"Let me know if you need anything," she said, which was a phrase you'd heard at least three times a day since the day you'd gotten the wound. This time, though, she sounded even more worried than normal.

You supposed she had more than enough reason to be worried—this was the first time you'd done this much moving since you'd been injured. You hadn't had to travel or hunt since then, and even your nights with Astarion between your legs kept you on your back with your calves thrown over his shoulders.

Not that Shadowheart knew that, exactly, but she had extracted a promise out of him not to let you do anything that might reopen the wound, which also meant Astarion had refused to let you take him in your mouth, afraid that such a position would be too much for you.

"I'm okay," you promised her, trying to keep the exasperation out of your voice.

You must have failed at doing so, because Astarion whispered a moment later, "She's just trying to keep you safe."

You deflated a little. "I...I know. I'm just...tired of being treated like a glass doll. I'm healed. I can handle myself."

"I know, she's just worried... We're all worried," he added, and you knew that 'we' included himself, a recent development when it came to any kind of emotion.

"I'll be okay," you promised.

"You better be," he said, finally taking your hand in his. Giddiness spread through you like wildfire. Astarion smiled at you and you got the feeling he knew you'd been dying for that to happen. "You're too cute to die on me now."

You rolled your eyes. "Well, I'll try my best."

Astarion looked at you with a fondness that had recently appeared in his eyes; it was a look you loved, one that made your entire body grow warm every time you caught him looking at you like that. You leaned into his side, letting him kiss the top of your head gently. You smiled up at him, ready to thank him for the open display of intimacy.

And then something in his eyes changed, a sparkle in the crimson. A smile twitched on his lips. For a moment, it looked like he might say something—only for his gaze to slide to the others, walking just ahead of you as if they knew to give you privacy. The sparkle to fizzled out.

"What is it?" you asked quietly.

"Walk faster, friends!" Gale called back to you. "The clouds aren't promising, that storm you've been complaining about will be upon us soon!"

"Later," Astarion said to you. "I'll tell you later."

He squeezed your hand and quickened his pace to catch up with the rest of your companions.

~❊~

Mercifully, the long day of traveling wasn't made longer—or more painful—by a fight of any kind, only by the miserable weather. Halfway through the day, the rain had begun in the form of slow, fat raindrops. By now, it was coming down fast and hard, almost painful when it hit your body, even with your many layers of clothing.

Wyll's estimation had been a little generous; the sun, though you couldn't see it, had already set by the time you got close enough to see windows in the buildings of the town, almost every one with a candle glowing on the windowsill.

"Isn't that just quaint," Astarion murmured as the muddy river of a dirt road beneath your feet slowly transitioned into cobblestones covered in at least an inch of water. "Gods, I hope this place has a good tavern."

"I hope it has an open inn," you said. "Everything hurts."

"Your wound?" he asked, frowning and automatically putting a hand on your abdomen.

You shook your head. "No—that's fine. Just my muscles are killing me from all this walking, and old injuries are acting up. It's the storm, I knew it was coming."

Lae'zel frowned. "Are you capable of sensing the weather? Why haven't you used this trick before?"

Shadowheart giggled behind her hand and got control of herself only when the gith's head snapped toward her.

You blinked. "It— I'm not actually able to do that, Lae. It's just that old wounds ache before storms. Lots of people have that. It's...kind of an old wives' tale, I guess?"

"She was right, though," Gale said, squinting up at the sky. His hood fell from his head. "The storm came when she thought it would."

Astarion sidled closer to you, smirking, and curled a hand around your waist. Under his breath, he teased, "Perhaps I...kept you awake too late last night, didn't I? Feeling a little soreness between those lovely legs?"

You rolled your eyes but leaned into his touch. "Don't you start."

The group walked further down the main thoroughfare, slowly spreading across the street, each one looking up at the signs on the buildings. Almost everything was closed: a few tailors' shops, a perfumery, an outdoor food market with empty vendor stalls.

Music drifted from one of the few open storefronts. Warm golden light spilled out onto the cobblestone street through the windows. Raucous laughter joined the jaunty sound of a bard's music. Inside, you could see tables packed with patrons, all singing in various states of drunkenness—and all safe from the storm outside.

Wyll gestured forward. "There's your tavern, Astarion."

Astarion grinned, his fangs flashing in the low light. "Who's up for a drink?"

"Maybe later," you said.

Pointedly, Wyll added, "Once we find an inn and rooms for the night. I'd rather not make camp out here in this damp."

"What, the Blade of Frontier's doesn't know how to rough it through bad weather?" Astarion teased.

"Stop taunting him and let's find an inn," you said, nudging him gently. "I just...want to go to bed, really."

"Alright," Astarion said, that sparkle back in his eyes again. "A good, long night's rest it is, then."

You moved further down the street. Karlach spotted the inn a few doors down and the group filed in through the door, just as thunder clapped overhead. You dragged Astarion into the building with you just before the rain could get worse. The clerk at the desk looked a bit annoyed to see you.

"We don't have enough rooms for all of you," they said, counting the seven of you.

Karlach pulled a face. Before she could say something accidentally indelicate, you pushed to the front of the group.

"How many rooms do you have available?"

"Just three," they said after a quick glance down at the open guestbook in front of them. "And they're not all next to each other."

You glanced back at the others.

"We could take two," Gale suggested. "Split us the old-fashioned way of ladies in one and us gents in another?"

Automatically, your gaze slid to Astarion; both of you appeared to have deflated at the idea of being separated. Wyll, of course, noticed.

"We'll take three and give the third to the lovebirds," he said, teasingly nudging his elbow into Astarion's side. "I don't think I have the heart to separate them."

"I find it agreeable," Lae'zel said with a decisive nod. She turned back to the clerk. "We'll take all three."

"It'll cost you," the clerk warned.

Astarion pulled out a money purse—no doubt stolen the last time you visited a merchant. "We can pay," he promised with that charismatic grin of his that made your stomach do flips.

He moved to the desk, sneakily grabbing your ass and squeezing as he walked by, and counted out the coins for the clerk. They counted it again and stood up only when they were satisfied.

"Come with me," they said. "I'll show you to your rooms."

~❊~

After saying goodnight to the others, escaping their teasing about keeping it down in the night for the sake of your poor neighbors, Astarion held open the door to your room to you. You got inside and glanced around; as far as rooms went, it wasn't awful. It was sparsely furnished and a tad cold, but there was a recently lit hearth and plenty of blankets on the beds. It was on the uppermost floor and you could hear the rain pounding on the roof, a brutal sound that made you agree with Wyll's earlier sentiment about staying out of the weather.

Both of you took off your soaked cloaks and hung them on the hooks next to the door to dry off. You set your stuff down on the ground, pulled the blankets off of one of the beds, and dropped them onto the other.

"Sharing a bed, are we?" Astarion asked with a little giggle, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into the back of your neck.

"Don't act like you don't want to," you said and leaned back into his chest. "I know you, Astari."

He hummed happily into your neck. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed the place where your neck and shoulder met. The nickname always made him happy, often bringing a pleasant blush to his cheeks after he'd fed.

If you had reached that point yet, this would have been the perfect time to say "I love you" and turn to kiss him over your shoulder. But you hadn't said it yet, and he hadn't said it, and you knew it wasn't time yet. You didn't know much, but you knew Astarion wasn't ready for that just yet.

You relaxed into his arms even more, practically melting against him. He planted soft, dainty kisses on your neck and shoulder. "What were you gonna tell me earlier? You had this look in your eye, like you were really excited."

Astarion's grin was audible in his tone as he whispered in your ear, "Your period's gone."

You frowned. "How do you know that and I don't?"

"Your scent's changing. I smelled it this morning, a weak scent of your menstrual blood, nearly gone. We've been traveling so you haven't been able to check recently, but once we got to the town I knew it was gone."

You shook your head. "Smell alone and you already know me better than I know myself."

Astarion scoffed. "Smell alone? Darling, I know your body better than anyone after this past week." His hand drifted down and slid between your legs, cupping you gently. Instantly, warmth flooded you and pooled in your cunt. "I know your shape...your taste...your smell..." He kissed your neck, pressing down on your clit through your clothes. You whimpered lightly. "I know exactly how to make you moan for me and I know what every moan means."

With every ounce of self-restraint you possessed, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Let's get settled in first, Astari. I need to get out of these wet clothes and I really should wash the grime and rain off me before we do anything and—" You stopped suddenly and turned in his arms, resting your hands on his biceps. "I don't have my period anymore."

Astarion blinked at you. "Why do you sound so sad? You've been in pain for the past week! Shouldn't you be glad it's gone?"

"Well, I suppose," you said, shrugging. You toyed with his collar, playing with the fabric between your fingers. "But I...I can't..." You sighed. "You can't feed from me."

His face softened. He gently took hold of your neck, brushing his thumb over the place he usually drank from. "Of course I can still feed from you... It just...takes a bigger tole on you now. Ah." He paused. "I see what you mean now."

You nodded. "It's back to being bloodless, and our fun's done."

Astarion chuckled deeply. "Oh, is that what you're sad about? No more loving little kisses between your legs from your vampire?" He wrapped his hands around your hips, squeezing them and pulling you flush to his body. "We can have a different kind of fun, my love, and it doesn't take your period to convince me to eat you out."

You heard him dimly, but didn't process anything after— "My vampire?"

Something in his face changed. A little bit of the light in his eyes seemed to fade. After a moment, he turned his face away. His body tensed in your arms. "Well, I...I thought that.... M-maybe after..."

You cupped his cheeks and turned him back to you. You kissed him softly, wanting to chase away every ounce of the self-doubt on his face. "I like the sound of that, Astarion." You brought a hand down to clasp his. "As long as I get to be yours, too."

"Darling," he murmured against your lips, seconds before kissing you again. His tongue pressed against your lips and you opened them to let him in. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he moaned softly into your mouth. His relief at your answer slowly relaxed his muscles and made his kiss incredibly tender. You returned his quiet moan with a soft, content sigh into his mouth.

When the kiss broke a few moments later, though it felt like an eternity, you immediately laid your head against Astarion's chest, hugging him tightly. He smoothed his hand over your hair, holding you close to him. He kissed the top of your head in a way that seemed almost domestic for him.

You closed your eyes, settling against his chest. The smell of him and the feel of his body against yours and his hand in your hair was enough to nearly lull you to sleep. And yet...

"I'm in wet clothes, and I'm very tired of being wet—unless it's you making me wet," you said, only half-aware of what you had said until you felt Astarion giggle into your hair.

"You're right, we should change and clean up," he said quietly, though he seemed just as reluctant as you to let go. "Then we can have our fun...and you can get all of me, like I promised you a week ago."

You hummed. "Gods, I'm looking forward to that."

"See? It's not all bad that you're not bleeding anymore," he teased, kissing your cheek.

You finally separated. Astarion dug through his pack until he found his usual shirt and pants. He closed the window's curtains and then you stripped where you stood, peeling the wet clothes off your skin. You walked over to the washroom, aware of Astarion's appreciative gaze on you, and scrubbed the dirt off your skin. You dried yourself off and Astarion joined you. It felt strange to watch your own reflection in the mirror but not see him standing next to you, even though you knew he was next to you, staring at you as he was apt to do.

You kissed his cheek and let your hand rest on his hip as you walked back toward the beds. You bent to rummage through your pack, only for his arms to circle your waist and pull you back up against his chest.

"Oh, darling, you're not going to need clothes for what I have planned," he murmured in your ear. He gently teased the shell of your ear with his teeth. You shuddered in his arms.

"Just jumping straight into it, huh?" you teased.

"I never waste time when I could be spending it with you," he breathed, letting one hand come up to cup your breast. You stumbled backward, sighing contentedly. "You like that, don't you?"

You whimpered. "More... Please darling, I..."

He chuckled and cupped both breasts in his hands. He squeezed them lightly and rested his head on your shoulder, looking down at your cleavage. "Hells, I love these tits, darling. So soft, like all your skin. So sensitive to my touch..."

Astarion began thumbing at your nipples. They perked up at his touch. He rolled them between his fingers, kissing your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. You whimpered under his touch.

"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" he asked, squeezing your tits a little harder. He massaged them in his hands, contentedly watching from his perch on your shoulder.

You nodded, leaning your head against his. After a moment, you asked, breathless but still forming words, "Can you suck on them?"

He moved around to the front of you, grinning happily. "Of course I can, darling." He gently sat you down on the bed's edge and kneeled before you, a beautiful sight. He spread your legs to sit between them and get as close to you as possible, glancing down at your exposed cunt as he did. "Gods, I can't wait to be inside you," he muttered, just seconds before he took one of your nipples in his mouth.

Astarion's mouth was an absolutely wonderful thing. You'd figured that out the first night and for the subsequent week that he was skilled with his lips and tongue, far more skilled than his kisses let on. His mouth around your breast was heavenly as he sucked on your nipple, lightly at first and then slowly adding pressure. You'd be lucky if your tits weren't bruised come morning. His other hand held your breast, kneading your flesh, rolling your nipple in his fingers. The coolness of the skin of his fingers was a relief against your hot skin.

He moaned as he suckled on you. He flicked his tongue over your nipple and then kissed the fat of your breast. You brought your hand up to his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails, and he moaned loudly. You whimpered as his sucking grew to be almost too much. He understood your sound and switched breasts, licking and kissing the one he'd just been groping.

You stared down at the beautiful man happily sucking on your tits: his eyes closed and his long lashes fluttering every so often, his pretty lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking your breast into the heat of his mouth. You carded your fingers through his hair, delighting in the way it curled around your fingers and around his ears.

A sudden idea had you moving your hand down to his ear. You touched it gently and he moaned loudly. You giggled and began lightly caressing his ear. His moans turned into whimpers as you neared the pointed tip. At last he popped off your breast and his head fell against your stomach.

"Oh, gods, darling," he whined. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, that feels... Ohhh, that feels wonderful."

His little moan brought a rush of wetness to your core. You kept playing with his hair, hoping to draw another one of those weak whimpers out of him.

Astarion shuddered into your touch. He was panting heavily and moved shakily, but he still managed to get his hand between your legs. He slid two fingers inside of you with ease.

"Ohhh, sweet girl, you're so wet for me," he breathed. "Can I—?"

"Yes, please," you gasped, knowing instantly what he wanted to do. Your fingers left his ear and he ducked his head between your legs. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit. "More."

Astarion chuckled into your pussy. "Patience, dear." He began to suckle on your clit, the pressure alone enough to make you see stars. Then his tongue flicked over you in the way he'd learned you licked and you fell back against the bed, arching into his mouth. His hands came up to grip your hips and pull you closer to him.

He moved lower and pushed his tongue into your entrance. The two of you moaned in tandem and Astarion's fingers dug into your hip, hard enough to leave bruises come morning.

The sounds of Astarion's slurping became obscene, but you couldn't find it in you to be embarrassed. You only moaned louder as his nose bumped your clit.

Without warning, Astarion slipped his fingers back inside you. You arched into his touch, gasping as his fingers curled inside you.

"Astarion!" you groaned, grinding down on his face and fingers. He chuckled into you.

"That's it, my love, you're close," he murmured, staring into you and watching your walls clench around his fingers. "Just let go for me, you're almost there."

You moaned, writhing as he went back to sucking on your clit. His fingers found the right spot and you covered your mouth with a hand to muffle the near-scream that came out of you—a sound you had no idea you could even make.

"No, no, no," Astarion chided, fixing you with a look. "Don't you muffle those sounds. I want to hear you scream for me, darling."

You whimpered. You panted as your orgasm slowly crept up on you. Your hips stuttered and lifted off the bed—Astarion took advantage and slipped his arm underneath you, dragging you back to him and pressing his mouth back to your clit. He kissed it gingerly, occasionally flicking his tongue over it in the circles you liked so much. Sometimes it amazed you how well he remembered your body and your likes, even if you'd only told him once.

"Astari," you whined, the tight ball in your core very close to snapping.

"I've got you," he whispered. "Come on, sweet girl, it's alright. Cum for me. Cum on my face, darling. I want it. I want to taste you. That's it, that's it, that's it!"

You finished with a loud cry, your back arching, Astarion moaning into your cunt and his tongue lapping quickly to catch every drop of your release. He kept curling his fingers even as your walls tightened to the point of being difficult to move them.

Astarion leaned back, grinning up at you. His face shone; it was almost weird not to see blood on his face. He looked back down at your pussy, staring eagerly, licking your cum off of his lips. "You're so wet, darling. Gods, you'll be a tight fit, but I could slide in right now if I wanted to..."

You nodded very quickly, whimpering. "Please, Astarion, please, I want you to."

He raised an elegant brow at you. "Oh, do you, now?" You nodded, whining. "Say it, darling."

Your body twisted in a way that seemed impossible as you said, a tremendous blush on your face which you were trying to hide in the bed, "I want you to fuck me, Astarion."

He grinned toothily, his fangs shining. A deep sound that neared a growl emanated from his chest. "Again. Say it again, louder."

"Fuck me, Astari," you whined, a little louder than the first time.

Something in Astarion snapped. He pulled you back onto your feet and flush to his body, kissing you fiercely. It was almost harsh, his fangs nicking your lips. You hissed and Astarion pulled back. The desire—a mix of bloodlust and arousal—was clear in his eyes, but he paused to ask, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine," you promised. "It's not like you haven't nicked me in more sensitive places."

"And you like it, every time," he teased, briefly kissing your forehead. He wiped away a small dot of blood on your lips with his thumb and licked it off.

You smiled at him. "What can I say, you've given me quite the biting kink."

Astarion chuckled. "Cheeky little pup," he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. "Ready to continue?"

You nodded, unable to stop the happy grin that overtook your face at the idea of him finally taking you. A thrill ran down your spine as Astarion laid you back on the bed and crawled up to you, kissing you harshly. You were dimly aware of him pumping his cock between you.

He pulled away suddenly, glancing down his body. "Shit."

You frowned, trying to catch his eye again. "Darling? What's wrong?"

Astarion sighed. "In my...excitement, I may have forgotten a very important detail." He looked down at himself and you sat up and followed his gaze. His cock was half-hard, but not nearly enough to slide into you. You whispered a quiet "oh." In his embarrassment, Astarion refused to meet your gaze. He looked much smaller, like he'd curled up into himself. "Unimpressive, huh?"

The half-disguised anger and humiliation in his voice made your heart ache. You cupped his face, turning his face toward you. You kissed him softly. "Oh, Astarion... No, you're not. You are impressive, you're just not quite ready yet. You forget I've seen you before, fully hard after you feed."

"I think you're missing the point," he said weakly. He pulled his legs up to his chest, effectively hiding himself. "I can't fuck you like this, darling."

"You can once you've had some blood, but that's beside the point." You kissed his cheek, rubbing a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch. "You're more than just sex, Astarion. Damn good sex, sure, but that's not all you are, no matter what anybody else—and especially your master—told you."

He turned to you, a strange look in his eyes. You took his hand, raised it to your mouth, and kissed the back of his hand. He leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder.

"This is the second time you've had to say this, something like this, to me during sex," he said with a humorless giggle, a shadow of his usual one.

"And I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it," you promised, kissing the top of his head.

For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he just blinked until the teary glaze in his eyes went away. "Thank you," he whispered, and he adjusted to kiss the spot on your neck he always drank from. He lightly scraped his teeth against your skin. "Do you want to do this?"

You hummed, leaning into his affection. "Yes, sweetheart. I want this. I want you. I want you very, very badly."

He smiled. "Lay on your side, darling. Let me lay behind you."

You did as he asked, relaxing into his hold and letting him manhandle you into the position he wanted. He pulled you flush against his body, his length pressing into you, his arm around your waist and holding you against him as if he was afraid you'd try to escape the moment he bit you. With his free hand, he brushed your hair off your neck.

"Are you ready, darling?" he whispered, dragging his teeth across the shell of your ear.

You nodded. "Mhm."

"Just relax for me," he breathed. He nuzzled into your neck and kissed the spot he was going to bite. "Right here? Your favorite spot?"

"Right there," you whispered. You put your hand over his and both of you (you weren't sure who moved first) twined your fingers together. He squeezed your hand gently before he sank his teeth into your neck.

Quiet filled the room, except for the rain on the roof, your steady breathing (only steady for now), and Astarion's sucking.

It had been just over a week since he'd fed from you this way, and the sensation was just as alien as it had been that first night you'd let him drink—two tiny shards of ice, the cold numbness spreading slowly through the surrounding area, preventing you from feeling any pain in his bite. Slowly, you acclimated to the sensation and it faded into a dull, throbbing pleasure.

He slid his free hand under your head, holding your head up and your neck steady. He gently scratched your scalp.

"Astarion," you moaned, squeezing his hand. He grunted, continuing his sucking. You focused less on the sound of it—which reminded you vaguely of sucking juice out of a dripping fruit—and more of the feeling of his body against you. "Enjoy this, sweetheart. Please, just for me."

He cuddled closer to you, humming, and you smiled as he let go of your hand to briefly squeeze your hip. Your smile widened when he took your hand in his again as quickly as he possibly could.

It didn't take long for Astarion to start getting into it. He began whimpering softly, so unrestrained you were certain he had no idea he was doing it. Slowly, his hips began rolling against you, gentle motions at first that grew more noticeable and more desperate the longer he drank.

His teeth still in your neck, Astarion began grinding his hardened length into the swell of your ass. His whimpers became moans and then animalistic grunts. He drank in time with every thrust against you and slowly you were reduced to those two sensations.

Throbbing overtook you. Your head was pounding, just slight enough for it to be ignored, and need pulsed in your cunt. You could feel your juices coating your thighs and the dull throbbing in your clit. But the rest of your body was growing pleasantly numb. Your extremities began to tingle.

Astarion's gulps slowed down and his thrusting became feral. You moaned once, very loudly, as his cock slid briefly between your legs and rubbed against your pussy. Your moan spurred him on and he adjusted to keep grinding himself on your thigh.

A few more swallows of blood was all it took for the edges of your vision to get blurry. Your eyes fluttered shut; you didn't have the strength to open them again. You could no longer feel your fingers and you were only partially aware of your hand slipping out of his. But Astarion was incredibly aware of it; he stopped drinking and twisted around you to lay in front of you to check on you.

Your head dropped to the mattress without Astarion's hand holding you up. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook you and you groaned quietly.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," he said, cupping your cheek. You opened your eyes. "There's my girl. How are you doing? Feel okay? Did I take too much?"

"Slow down on the questions," you said, "and hold me."

He chuckled and scooted closer, pulling you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head. "But are you okay?"

You nodded. "Give me a minute and I'll be right as rain."

He giggled. "Right as rain..."

You rolled your eyes. "What can I say, the storm's got me thinking." You tucked yourself into his arms, your lips against his chest. You kissed his skin softly. He hummed happily and you continued, nipping at his skin. Now that he'd fed, bruises started to form under your lips.

"I'm okay now," you said after a few moments. The throbbing in your head had eased up and you no longer felt like you were about to pass out.

"Not dizzy anymore?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I'm alright."

He smiled at you; gods, that smile was gorgeous. "Well, now, dear. Let me return the favor..."

You blinked at him. "Favor—? Oh!"

Astarion's mouth was back on your breasts, this time leaving hickeys all over your skin—and tiny, bloody pinpricks from his fangs—that matched the bruises you'd left on him. You whined, gripping his hair tightly.

He grinned against your skin. "Oh, darling—I know. I know you want me. Your body and I have kept you waiting long enough, haven't we?"

You put your hand on his chest. "Wait, darling. Let me..." You slid down his body and gripped his cock in your hand. He groaned loudly, bucking his hips into your hand.

"Oh, darling, that feels..." He moaned. "Gods."

"It's about to get better, if you'd like?" you asked. You kissed his thigh. "Do you want me to?"

Something in his face changed, his features softening. You fancied that you could see some of his walls come down in his eyes, but you chalked it up to your hopeful imagination. But then he was nodding and whispering, "Yes."

You kissed around his base, watching him shudder every time your lips touched his skin. You locked eyes with him and pressed your lips to his base. He whined, high and needy, throwing his head back. You smiled; you'd never heard him make that sound before, but I wanted to hear it again.

You moved up to kiss his tip. A groan came from the back of his throat. You gave his head a small lick and watched his entire body shudder with pleasure.

"Ready?" you asked him, placing another kiss to his length.

"Yes," he breathed, looking down at you. "Yes."

You licked the underside of his cock, from base to head, then took his head in your mouth and sucked lightly. He whined the entire time, growing steadily louder until he was moaning. You took him deeper and he threw his head back again, swallowing harshly. Gods, he's so pretty when he's losing control... You reached up and took his hand, squeezing gently.

He bucked his hips into your mouth. You made a soft sound of slight complaint, surprised by the motion. "S-sorry," he breathed, his chest heaving. His voice was tight, the muscles of his abdomen tight. "You just... Gods, you're good at this. You are...amazing."

You squeezed his hand until he looked down at you, your question was in your eyes: are you alright?

"Keep going," he urged. "I'm— I'm more than alright, darling."

You sank down further until he hit the back of your throat. You moaned to feel him twitch in your mouth; you weren't expecting the breathy gasp that came from him. You did it again and his hand left yours to thread through your hair, putting the slightest amount of pressure on you.

"Is this okay?" he asked shakily, struggling to get the words out through his heavy breaths.

You winked at him and he groaned, the sound feral. He held onto your hair for dear life and you kept sucking, licking the underside of his cock every chance you could. Occasionally, he bucked his hips desperately, alternating between gasping for breath and whimpering your name between moans that verged on sobs.

Astarion jerked his hips, his cock kicking up. You took advantage to swirl your tongue around his tip, tasing his pre-cum. He leaned up on his forearms and you saw the tears on his waterline. Concerned flooded through you. His face was relaxed into an expression of pure ecstasy, but...

You pulled off of him. "Astarion? Are you okay, sweetheart?"

His chest heaved, glistening with sweat, while he gasped for breath. "I— I'm okay. You're wonderful, darling, absolutely..." He beckoned you up to him with two fingers, that dominant look back in his eye. You did as he ordered without question. "Come here. As much as I love this, I need to fuck you."

You whined. "Astari, please. Please. Please, I want you."

"Look at you, begging for me," he cooed, his hand sliding between your legs. He rubbed your clit and you arched into his touch, moaning wantonly. "There she is. That's it, darling, just feel good for me."

You leaned into his chest. "Astarion! I need you. I need you to fuck me, please, gods."

Astarion chuckled and pulled his hand away from you. He gently laid you on your back and crawled over you. He kissed you deeply before sitting back and lining himself up with your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. Anticipation and excitement mixed in your stomach.

Astarion placed the head of his cock against you and then looked up at you. His face was fond as he met your gaze. "Are you ready for me, darling?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I— Oh, gods, yes!"

"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered. He kissed your forehead briefly.

You watched him move, slowly bucking his hips forward to push his cock inside of you. His eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. You forced yourself to remember to breathe as he bottomed out, your walls stretching to accommodate him; he finally let out a deep groan from the back of his throat.

"Darling," he moaned, leaning down to you. You reached up, putting your hand in his hair, and brought his head down to you. Once again, you weren't sure who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on yours.

It was a gentle kiss that was fitting for his slow, shallow thrusts. The two of you panted into each other. He put his forehead against yours, glancing down and watching him slide in and out of you, whispering in Elvish at the sight.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "Astarion... Oh, gods..."

"You feel so good," he groaned. "Darling, I— Ohhh, sweet girl." He bent down to lick the small blood spots off your breasts. He moaned sweetly. "You taste even better when I'm inside you, my love. You taste sweet—like a delectable wine."

You whimpered. "I don't mean to deprive you of my blood, dear, but please please kiss me."

He chuckled and kissed his way up your neck, stopping briefly to lick your already-closing puncture wounds, before he kissed your lips. His mouth tasted vaguely of iron.

Your walls tightened around him. He was rubbing inside of you in just the right ways, hitting pleasure spots that his fingers had already made tender. His thrusts were still gentle, not enough to make you see stars but enough to make your entire body relax and give in to the pleasure.

"You're wonderful, darling," he murmured. He reached up to roll your nipple in his fingers. "You feel so perfect around me. So tight...so wet...so eager... Gods, darling, yes, just clench around me like that."

You threw your head back and he immediately descended on it, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin. You could feel the bruises that you would find in the morning.

"Faster," you told him. "I can take more than this, Astari."

He grinned and you were moaning seconds later as he sped up, his hips snapping into you.

"Can you take it harder? Deeper?" he asked. "You have no idea how hard it is not to ravish you, darling."

You cupped his chin and brought him back up to your face. You kissed him hard, more tongues and teeth than anything. You met his gaze and whispered, "Then ravish me."

Astarion pushed his lips back to yours, grunting animalistically, and slammed his cock into you. You cried out, clinging to him desperately as he fucked you relentlessly, his hips snapping against yours, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every thrust. The head of his cock kissed your cervix every time, making your entire body shudder. You began meeting his thrusts and he chuckled, one hand gripping your hip to help keep you up.

You threw your legs around his hips and both of you groaned at the new angle. Astarion muttered to himself in Elvish, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You kissed him, bringing him back to you. He smiled, kissing your forehead.

"Aren't you gorgeous?" he whispered to you, staring deep into your eyes. There was an alertness there that you hadn't noticed the first time he'd fucked you like this, out in the woods that night.

You reached up to cup his cheek. "You're quite handsome like this, Astarion," you murmured. "You always are."

He smiled softly at you and turned to kiss your palm, his hips stuttering for a moment. He grunted and pushed deeper into you, making you cry out again. He glanced down your bodies and watched the two of you thrust into each other.

"Gods, that's a pretty view," he murmured, his voice breathy. "Your slick shining on my dick...and, oh, look at that... The outline of my cock in your tummy. Gods, that's hot." He placed his hand on your lower abdomen where the bulge was and he pressed down. You whined, clenching your teeth and trying not to scream. He, of course, noticed. "Oh, that feels good, does it?"

You whimpered out a weak, "Yes!" He grinned and began pressing down on every stroke into you.

You gripped his shoulder, your nails digging in; you knew there would be scratches on his back and shoulders come morning and you were careful to avoid his scar, knowing just how painful that would be if scratched.

He kept losing his rhythm every so often and you knew he was getting close; thankfully, so were you.

"I'm close," you whispered. "I'm so close, darling."

On the next thrust in, he adjusted the hand pushing down on your abdomen so that his thumb could circle around your clit. "Does this help?"

You whined, nodding frantically. "Oh, Astari— Don't stop, please don't stop, I—" Your words faded into moans. He giggled.

"Don't worry, darling, I don't intend on stopping until you've finished around my cock," he whispered in your ear. Your entire body shuddered.

Astarion's thrusts grew a bit sloppier, but his thumb on your clit remained dedicated to making you cum. You were half-convinced the way he spoke as he gazed down at you adoringly would be enough even without the cock thrusting into you or the thumb stimulating you.

"Gods, look at you," he murmured. "Look at that body, responding to me so eagerly! Those beautiful breasts, perky nipples, all covered in my bite marks... That lovely neck, marked and still just barely bleeding..." He bent to lick the thin trail of blood. "These legs, wrapped around my waist, and that pussy just sucking me in." He brushed your hair out of your eyes. "And I could never forget this darling face, those beautiful eyes just staring up at me like I hung the moon and stars..." He pressed his forehead to yours. Softly, he said, "Come on, darling, cum for me. Cum on my cock. Let me feel you clench around me and lose yourself in me."

The thread inside you snapped. You arched off the bed and into his body. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you to him, whispering words of encouragement. You screamed as you came, clenching so hard around him it was a miracle he kept fucking you through it. He pulled his hand off your clit as soon as the feeling became too much, reading your body with ease.

"That's it," he whispered to you. "That's my girl. Easy, darling, breathe. You did so well. Do you mind if I—" He groaned, hips faltering for a moment. "Do you mind if I cum inside you?"

You whined. "Oh, gods, yes, please do! Cum inside me, Astarion, cum inside me, I want it!"

He moaned happily, kissing your neck fervently. He began rambling. "Hells, darling, you spoil me. Feeding me with your bleeding cunt for a week? Taking my cum the moment it's over? You needy, heavenly little thing." He kissed his way up to your jaw. You put your fingers in his hair. "Oh, you're so wet now, sweet girl. You've soaked me. You look so pretty around me. Oh, gods, you're so much tighter now— I'm not going to last much longer, dear. You're good, you're too good. My love, oh my love!" He lost his rhythm entirely, fucking you only with the need to cum. "I love this. I love every bit of this. I love—"

He cut himself off. He cried out, burying his face in your neck and his cock in your cunt. Warmth flooded you as he spilled himself deep inside you. His hips stuttered and flexed a few more times, his cock twitching inside you, before he finally let out a long breath and collapsed on top of you. Immediately, your arms wrapped around him and you held him tight to your chest.

As the two of you lay panting together, your mind was working on overdrive. He hadn't said it, but you'd heard what he wanted to say: I love you. The very same words you were dying to say.

At last, Astarion lifted his head. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You combed your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered. "Not one bit, darling. I'm perfectly fine." You kissed his nose and he giggled. You stared at him, your beautiful boy, for a moment, enjoying the feelign of his body actually being warm against yours for once, before you asked, "What about you? Are you feeling alright? Good, even?"

Astarion giggled. "Don't sell yourself short, my love, you're absolutely wonderful. I feel amazing. Content. Cared for. Loved." With every word, his voice got smaller, quieter. He seemed to retract into himself. You frowned.

"Where'd you go? Come back to me," you whispered.

He looked back up at you and the tears were back in his eyes, but this time you doubted they were tears of pleasure. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to..." He sighed. "I didn't mean to disappear on you. It's just...I'm used to that. I'm used to disappearing during sex, after sex... But I didn't do that this time. It was...different with you. It was nice. You've cared for me like no one else ever has. You...you paid attention to what I wanted, how I felt, what I liked. You weren't just using me for your own pleasure. I... It was like...you cared about me. I don't even know what to say! But, ah, you made me feel good, in a lot of ways. So... Thank you, darling."

You cupped his face and kissed him softly. "Of course I care about you, Astarion, I— I...love you."

He tensed up in your arms. A flash of panic passed through his eyes. You shook your head quickly.

"You don't have to say it back," you said hurriedly. "Not until you're ready. But I want you to know exactly how I feel about you. And...I love you."

He smiled and relaxed, melting into your embrace. "Thank you, my love. I...I'm not ready, not quite yet, but...thank you for respecting that. Here—let me cuddle you, I know how much you like that."

The two of you adjusted so that you could lay on your sides. You curled up in his arms and nestled your head into his neck. He carded his fingers through your hair, a gentle movement that was well on its way to lulling you to sleep. You reluctantly pulled yourself away, and only because you had adjusted and suddenly felt the cooling, sticky liquid between your thighs.

"We should get cleaned up," you murmured.

Astarion hummed. "Oh, yes, let me—" He reached for his shirt on the floor and brought it up to himself.

"No, no," you said. "Let me do it."

You took a towel and dampened it in the bowl of lukewarm water on the nightstand—probably there for this exact purpose. You squeezed the excess water out and gently wiped your mixed, drying releases from Astarion's thighs, abdomen, and cock. He sighed softly, relaxing as you cleaned him off.

"No one's ever done this for you before, have they?" you asked. He shook his head. You kissed him softly. "Get used to it, darling, because I intend to do this for you every time."

He grinned, a pleasant blush on his cheeks. "I could get used to this." He took the towel away from you. "Here, let me do it for you."

You laid back and let him slid between your legs. He groaned softly. "Oh, my sweet girl, you look so delicious with my cum dripping out of you."

You blushed fiercely, groaning. "Stop talking like that, or I'm going to demand we go again."

He perked up. "I'm up for a second round—if you can handle it, that is," he added with a cheeky grin.

You considered it for a moment while he wiped your thighs and entrance clean. "Give me an hour and maybe we can."

Astarion smiled and placed a dainty kiss just above your clit. "That's my girl." He laid back down beside you and pulled you into his arms. "Get some rest now, darling, you need it after today."

You wrapped your arms around him and rested your cheek against his chest. "Thank you, Astarion. For everything."

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, stroking your hair. "You're welcome, my love."

~❊~

You were ready to leave the next morning, and you and Astarion met the others in front of the clerk's desk on the first floor of the inn. Astarion handed back the key while you limped over to the group.

Unsurprisingly, Astarion had left you with quite the limp, even more severe than the first time he'd eaten you out at camp. Karlach didn't even try to contain her laughter at the sight of you.

"So you did fuck her last night!" she said to Astarion as he joined you. You blushed heavily. "We had no idea, couldn't hear a thing!"

Astarion raised an eyebrow, then looked at you with a grin. "They couldn't hear us, even with all the noise you made? We're getting a room at an inn every chance we can get from now on!"

"Not so fast," Gale said quickly, "they might not have heard you, but Wyll and I did!"

You squeaked. "You did?"

Wyll nodded, somewhat amused and somewhat apologetic. "You made noises I didn't think were possible. Or meant pleasure."

You turned immediately to Astarion, who was grinning like a cat, and buried your face in his chest. "Hide me."

"It's alright, darling," he whispered to you. "Gale and Wyll were across the hall from us. Next time, we'll just get a room as far away from the others as possible and I'll make you scream into the wee hours of the morning."

You blushed very brightly and the others groaned.

"Don't break her," Shadowheart chided. "Is your wound—"

"It's fine!" both you and Astarion said before she could continue.

"She's all healed up, no more scarring," Astarion promised. "Believe me, I wouldn't have gone as hard as I did if I thought she would get hurt by it."

"Okay, that's enough!" Gale said quickly. "Let's leave, please, and keep going. We've got important business to attend to!"

As you left the inn, Astarion took your hand and kissed the top of your head. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you? That limp's quite noticeable, dear."

"I'm fine," you promised. "You were quite good last night."

"Good. I'd be inconsolable if I had hurt you," he said. He brush your hair behind you ear. "I mean that, you know."

You leaned into his side and kissed his cheek. "I know, darling. And thank you. Now, come on, help me walk. It will be your fault if I fall."

He snorted. "Because I have you a good orgasm? No, wait, how many did it end up being last night? Two the first time...then another three?"

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, stop bragging! Come on, Gale's right: we've got work to do."

Astarion kissed you one last time, then pulled you against his side and followed the others out of the village.

☞ ❊ ☜

[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

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[vaokses]

How long this love can hold its breath

Series Masterlist / General Masterlist

Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: It has been years since your mother took you from King's Landing to join her in Dragonstone. Years since you and Aegon have seen one another. Years in which he has refused, time and time again, to marry, even as you tour Westeros meeting suitors in search of a husband of your choosing. That refusal can easily be undone with a few words: it was you she chose, Aegon.

Word Count: 3.1k 

Warnings: Alicent's abuse of Aegon. Alcohol/drunkenness. Mentions of sex/prostitution. Usual Targaryen incest stuff. Arranged marriage stuff. Angst. Hurt and kind of no comfort for now.

Some AU/Setting stuff: Reader is a bastard of Daemyra (claimed by Laenor of course), firstborn child of Rhaenyra and heir to her mother's claim. She rides Vermithor. As you'll figure out thorugh this one shot, she and Aegon had a thing when she was still in King's Landing. How relevant or impactful that 'thing' was depends on who of the two you ask. I've stretched the timeline a bit. Rhaenyra spent a few years more in King's Landing (making Aegon around 16/7 when she leaves, and the Reader, the eldest of the Velaryons, around 14/5). Instead of six years in Dragonstone, the Blacks have spent around three there in this story. Viserys still lives (and is rotting slightly slower), Aegon and Helaena did not marry.

A/N: My first work in this fandom, so i'm a bit nervous. This is a bit of a prologue/alternate PoV for a series I have in the works, but I wanted to share it as a one shot since I think it also works as one. I hope you like this!

Title is from the quote "I've hoarded your name in my mouth for months. My throat is a beehive pitched in the river. Look! Look how long this love can hold its breath." - Sierra DeMulder

It feels as if he has just rested his head on his pillow when he hears the heavy doors being pushed open, and the familiar hurried steps of his mother as she enters his apartments. 

He isn’t sure why he bothers by now in telling the guards not to let her in, since she insists on overruling his orders whenever she wishes. 

Still half-asleep, Aegon reaches for the bedsheet covering his body, wary of any attempt she might make in her anger to pull it off him. Surprisingly, his mother stops a few steps away from the foot of the bed. 

Aegon feels her piercing gaze on him, and aware the choice is between caving and chasing after her, asking her what it is she wants; or waiting for the anger at his unwillingness to follow the unspoken command -and the thrown object, or the stinging hit, that comes after said anger-; he drags his hands over his face in an effort to wake himself further and asks,  

“What is it, mother?” 

“Where in the Father’s name were you? Three days, Aegon,” He winces at the reprimand. In his defense, he truly didn’t think they’d notice. Helaena would, perhaps, but she wouldn’t seek him out either way. “You were gone for three days.” 

“I wasn’t…far. I didn’t even leave King’s Landing.” 

She starts letting out a sigh, laced with disappointment and annoyance, but stops herself short, instead turning her back to him and pacing a few steps away. 

“I know where it is you go to…to satiate your vices, caring not for the shame it brings to your name and mine, behaving most unlike your station.” 

“Then why did you ask?” 

His mother won’t turn to look at him, her back turned to him and her hands joined in front of her. 

“Your sister was here.” 

His brow furrows in confusion. 

“My sister is always here.” 

“Rhaenyra was here, Aegon.” 

“Oh. What for?” 

Alicent turns on her side, considers him with eyes widened in afront and mouth curled in disgust. The question leaves her lips slowly, a threat and a dare all at once. 

“Are you still drunk?” 

He mulls over the question for a few moments, and realizes his thoughts are entirely too calm for him to be already sober. The numb haziness of the night before remains, a comfort. 

“I think I might be,” He admits, eyes darting to the side and lingering on the pitcher of wine on a nearby table. He wonders if it is empty. “Slightly.” 

When it seems his mother is intent on merely staring at him in disappointment, he motions for her to turn away and gets dressed. 

He can’t help but feel unseemly, standing before his mother in rumpled clothes and disheveled hair, while she stands tall with not a strand of hair out of order, not a speck of dust on her dress. Then again, even at his best he hasn’t managed not to feel small, unsuited, by comparison. 

Instead of letting those thoughts linger, aided by the comfortable haze the wine from the previous night -or nights, rather- provides him with, Aegon moves to sit on a table in one of the darker parts of the room. 

Alicent follows quietly, but she doesn’t sit. 

“I come here with news. You are to be married, n-…” 

He shakes his head with a mocking laugh, the defiance as easy as breathing, after four years of holding the same stance. He might not have a say in much, but he does in this. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Your father has approved of this union. As have I.” 

He shrugs his shoulders. 

“Then you are welcome to marry her yourselves. I shall hope for a long and happy marriage for you three.” 

Sometimes, perhaps in foolish hope, in some hollow fantasy, he thinks his impertinence amuses his mother. He might imagine it, he’s quite certain he does, but sometimes he swears she furrows her lips to hide the faintest of smiles. 

But of course, she shows no give, betrays not a flicker of amusement, of softness, of anything. Try as he might to earn any of them. 

“I did not come here to entertain insolence.” 

“Why did you come here, mother?” He asks, not able to reign in the restless movements of his hands, fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on the table. “My stance hasn’t changed. And it won’t.” 

The restlessness building within her is betrayed in the small movements of her hands that increase in intensity the longer she looks at him. With a sudden movement, she slams a hand on the table between them and leans closer. 

“You cannot go on like this, Aegon, shrinking your duty because of the denial of a caprice of your youth.” 

“It was the one thing I asked for. I haven’t asked for anything since, nor did I ask for anything before.” 

His mother scoffs in response, looking away. 

“And that is reason enough for your wish to be granted?” She asks, derisive, almost jeering. Alicent leans back, straightens her stance again. Not too unlike Aemond adjusting his posture to strike with his sword during training, he supposes. “You have gone through your entire life doing as you please, not considering the cost to your family, to your House, to me, and you expected to be rewarded?” 

But he has considered the cost, has had no choice but to consider it, when every choice, every action, it seems almost every thought, is heavy with the impact it might have on his name, on his family. He has considered the cost, but try as he might no choice, no action, has been enough. 

“It would have…It would have changed things. If you had said yes,” He argues, an argument repeated, in his head if not aloud, a thousand times over in these passing years. And yet restlessness builds within him regardless, and he finds himself grasping at the table to keep his hands from fidgeting. “It was the smart choice. You know father would have been for it. You could have kept Vermithor on our side, and given them no choice but to play by our rules with their daughter here. We might have won this war you want so b-…” 

“All I have wanted is to make sure your lives are not forfeit when your father dies. It is not war I want.” 

“Then why did you say no?” 

She shakes her head as she looks away again. 

“The matter is settled. Long settled.” 

“Yet you never told me why.” 

He wants to hear it. More than an apology for denying him a chance at happiness, more than an admission that beyond the feelings of any involved it was the smartest choice, more than anything, he wants to hear her tell him why. 

She didn’t even hear his reasons, she didn’t even consider proposing the union to your mother, or Viserys. She dismissed him, and denied him, without even a second thought. 

He wants to know the reason why. If it was because she knew of you something he didn’t, and was certain you would have rejected him even at the cost of your home and life as you knew it, he wants to know. If it was because she believes him so monstrous that she wished to protect even the daughter of her lifelong adversary from him, he wants to know. 

If it was because in his weakness and his failings he has made himself into something even his own mother wishes to see punished, or because there was something he did -because it had to be something he did, there cannot be so many that were supposed to love him and refuse to for it not to be something he is doing wrong, something about him that is wrong- that not only managed to make his mother’s love for him vanish, but also earned him her scorn, he wants to know. He thinks knowing that to be the truth would splinter him in a way he isn’t sure he’d be able to recover from, but he is tired, and alone, and he wants to know why. 

He searches his mother’s gaze, desperate for an answer, any answer. She looks back, and yet all that is reflected back at him is contempt, disappointment, and what he fears is disgust. 

“It has been years, Aegon. You are being senselessly stubborn, holding onto this…this grudge against me.” 

He makes a face at her words, and grabs the pitcher in the table before him only to find it empty, the only wine remaining being that still in the half-filled cup. 

“It is not a grudge, I-..”  

“Weakness, then,” She sentences, and he doesn’t bother hiding the flinch at her words. His gaze lowers to the table before him. “You’re being a fool, if you think after all this t-…” 

His eyes are set on the half-full cup of wine before him, and he doesn’t dare move his gaze as he interrupts, “I am not marrying, mother.” 

She considers him in silence, and though for a moment he thinks a hit is to come -he doesn’t usually get away with interrupting her-, followed by her footsteps leaving the room, his mother takes a deep breath and insists, 

“It is not me or your father who request this of you. It is your King who commands it.” 

“The King, or his Hand?” He retorts. He grabs at the cup and downs the remaining liquid, making a face at the taste of stale wine, and presses on, “I’m guessing a Baratheon, to earn Borros’ support? Or a Tully, to secure the Riverlands?” 

For the briefest of moments, when his mother’s lips press into a thin line, hands fidgeting where they rest joined before her, he thinks he finally got the upper hand. That he proved he isn’t as blind to their plots and their increasing panic at Rhaenyra’s influence as he may appear. That he proved her wrong, that he showed he isn’t as incompetent as they’d like to think, that he… 

“A Velaryon,” Alicent admits, and any pride, any satisfaction, die out like flames in a room without air. His lips part, he knows not for what since all that leaves them is a choked breath, the beginning of a question, of a name. Aegon searches his mother’s gaze, attempts to find any truth, any certainty, but Alicent looks away. Her next words sound as if heard from underwater. “To keep you from certain execution when your sister ascends the Iron Throne.” 

“Do not toy with me, mother,” He means for it to sound like an accusation, like a demand, like anything but a plea, and yet that is what leaves his lips. Betrayed by the waver in his voice, by the iron grip on the glass, he goes on, “She’s touring the whole of fucking Westeros in search of a husband as we speak.”  

“She has made her choice, Aegon. It was you she chose,” She promises, and her voice is low and warm and almost comforting, so why does it feel wrong? Why does it make him want to crawl out of his own skin? “As for the tour, it will continue as scheduled. Rhaenyra deserted her own tour before time was due, she knows better than to repeat her mother’s mistake.” 

Breathable air is lacking by this chair, in this room, and he stands up, wincing at the too-loud sound of the chair scraping against the ground. 

He eyes a pitcher of wine in another table, and crosses the distance with quick strides, refilling his cup and draining half of it before turning to his mother again. 

“Why tell me now? I-If the tour is to continue,” If she can still change her mind, “Why tell me now?” 

“Your grandsire and I believed you might take this opportunity to amend your behaviors,” Alicent tells him, “So you might save your future wife the embarrassment, so you might protect her honor, seeing as you do not care for ours or your own.” 

She hasn’t said your name yet, he notices.  

Neither has he, but he has forgotten when it was the last time that he said it aloud. Intentionally, that is, he doesn’t count any time he let it slip past his lips when deep in his cups or buried inside some whore with the wrong shade of silver in her hair -and the wrong eyes, and the wrong voice, and the wrong smile, and the wrong touch-. 

Aegon can’t even remember when it was that he decided he wouldn’t utter your name again, all he knows is that through the years what started out of spite, as a way to deny the wound and the absence; has become something else. It has become to him something like a secret, something to be hoarded, to be kept his alone. 

Because there’s pride, and satisfaction, and something rotten but his, in having known you in ways no other did. In remembering you how he is certain -he has to be, it is of the few things he has left- no one has known you. 

And so he doesn’t speak your name. Lest in sharing any of the warmth of a bond long gone he loses it, dying embers to a strong wind; lest in admitting old truths he is left behind also by the part of you that he keeps safe, a secret only his. 

But now in his head resonate so loudly that they drown anything else -like thunder, like the beat of Vermithor’s wings taking you far up into the sky- his mother’s words.  

It was you she chose. 

Thinking of you has always meant the resurgence of the memory of the goodbye you refused to grant him, of waking to the reverberating cry of Vermithor as he took to the skies with you on his back and flew you away to Dragonstone; or the memory of your disappointment and your sorrow as he avoided your gaze and your words when you met again in Driftmark.  

Yet now the memory that comes forth in his mind is another. 

You smiled at him, daring and entirely too proud. But how could you not be, when you both knew he would oblige? How could you not be, when he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze from your lips since you had asked him for something as simple as a kiss? And your voice was softer than he’d expected -or perhaps he remembers it softer than it was, perhaps he sees something else when desire was all there was-, warmer than it had ever been, when you whispered, I want it to be you. 

And what harm can your name do that his own mind hasn’t inflicted upon him already? What ruin can the uttering of such a familiar word bring that the memories haven’t wrought already? 

So he says your name. Willingly, rationally, for the first time in years.  

He thought the foolish refusal to utter your name aloud kept you distant, kept the memory of you, the idea of you, as something far from him, gone from him. But he realizes now, with the shape of your name parting his lips and the taste of memories staining his tongue like ash; that you have been a distant memory, a distant dream, for a very long time. 

And the knowledge that you chose him, the helpless hope that blooms somewhere in his chest, they cannot do a thing against the horrifying certainty that the future he wanted, the future he mourned, is lost to him regardless of your choices now. 

What can he give you now, that that Tyrell knight the rumors say you were so enamored with cannot? How can he not fail whatever expectations you have of him, as he has failed all others? How could you want him now, as what he has made out of himself in these years you’ve spent apart? 

It was a comfort, he realizes now, thinking you lost. The comfort of knowing he couldn’t fail you, couldn’t earn your scorn when he had merely your indifference. 

A bitter, wretched little laugh leaves his lips then, and he turns his head -to hide, perhaps, the tears brimming in his eyes, the weakness his mother so loathes to see from him- and looks out the window towards the distant skies. 

Alicent doesn’t move, merely stands taller, prouder, and presses, 

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

Of course, this is what he fucking wanted, but nearly four years have gone by since he asked to be allowed to marry you and was refused. Even if some part of him wants it, wants you, still, it matters not. 

It is what he wanted, before. Before everything got worse, before everything got louder, harder. Before he got worse. Before you forgot about him. 

His mother approaches him then, and though he jumps when he sees her reach for him out of the corner of his eye, she grabs onto his forearm and speaks again, forceful, determined, 

“Listen to me, Aegon. Your sister has secured her hold on the Seven Kingdoms, both through the strength of her dragons and through her eldest children’s diplomacy with the noble Houses,” His mother tells him, but he cannot hear her, not over the warring thoughts of finally, finally, finally, and too late, too late, too late. “Rhaenyra has allowed for this to happen because she wishes to extend an offer of peace, and you cannot squander this opportunity.” 

He turns to her and asks, quietly, forlorning, “Why now?” 

“What?” 

“Why now?”

Why now, that everything is worse? Why now, that he has become this? 

For a moment, a flickering moment gone in the blink of an eye, he thinks he sees sadness, sympathy, in his mother’s warm gaze. For a moment, he believes she will offer words or touch in the way she hasn’t before, in comfort or in reassurance. 

But her gaze falls from his, and her grip on his arm -too tight, almost bruising, yet wanted, needed, if it is all he can get- loosens as she lets go of him. 

“The betrothal will be announced when the tour is over. The wedding in a week’s time from then.” She tells him, detached, not unlike a messenger delivering a missive. 

And with that she leaves his apartments. The door closing echoes in his mind, and he is left behind with a loneliness he doesn’t know where to put, and a hope he doesn’t know how not to fear. 

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, and I would love to hear your thoughts!

I am endlessly fascinated by the greens and their deeply weird dynamics, and I hope I did them a modicum of justice, even when changed in this AU and despite the influence of fanon in my interpretations of them.

[kateksmallcuteowl]

June 26: Soulmates/Soulmate Marks AU

Your mark shows how old will your soulmate be when you fall in love with them. (Meaning both romantically and sexually)

For an event by @bagginshieldweek24

More headcanons after the cut. Seriously, there’s a lot, as I developed a whole idea but had no time to write a fic because of exams.

— Dwarfs come of age in around 80 y.o., having a soulmate from another race is a very rare occurrence; throughout the history of Middle-earth, there have been at most a dozen such cases, so most dwarves are unaware of this possibility. Having a mark with a number younger than the age of majority is a lifelong shame, essentially an admission of pedophilia. Unfortunately, this happens more often than having a soulmate from another race.

— Thorin spent his entire adult life, from the moment the mark appeared, wearing an extra layer of bandages under his bracers to prevent anyone from seeing the number. Fortunately, among dwarves, it is not considered inappropriate to hide the marks, as many value their privacy.

— The mark and thoughts about it were the reason why Thorin often appeared especially gloomy when the topic of romance came up.

— He truly tried to compensate for his "defectiveness" with his virtues.

— Of course, Thorin is a virgin.

— Bilbo, on the other hand, didn't think much about this; hobbits don't see anything wrong with living without their soulmate or seeing their soulmate as a friend. They are generally a loving people and don't worry about the concept of "the one and only."

— Although the topic of soulmates is considered highly romantic in hobbit literature, Bilbo was somewhat disappointed when he realized he would likely never meet his soulmate. (Hobbits are also unaware of inter-racial soulmates.)

— I tried to make young Bilbo look more like Frodo, so here he has smaller curls and a different style of shirt.

— Thorin and Bilbo both hid their marks, so when they felt an attraction to each other, especially after the Carrock, both were initially upset, thinking they weren't soulmates. Thorin, of course, was much more upset.

— During the two weeks they stayed with Beorn (yes, I'm mixing the movie and the book, what are you going to do about it? Slow burn needs time to be slow), they managed to reach the point of kissing near the river or something like that. But when Bilbo tried to unlace Thorin's tunic, Thorin stopped him and said that, unlike hobbits, for dwarves, sexual interaction is a very serious step in emotional attachment. It wouldn't be fair not to tell Bilbo what kind of monster he was getting involved with, because after seeing what Thorin had to show him, Bilbo might not even want to look him in the eye. Bilbo was honestly frustrated. (It is implied that Thorin used some term characteristic of a pedo... ahem)

— With a terrifyingly serious face, Thorin unwrapped the bandages on his wrist, and Bilbo, with a sinking heart, prepared to see a number like 5 or 12. Instead, there was a very respectable and completely normal age. Thorin turned away, not wanting to see the disappointment in the hobbit's eyes. Bilbo spent a few seconds calculating how long dwarves live and how old Thorin actually was.

— Thorin thought Bilbo wanted to shame him for having the audacity to enter into a relationship at such an age, knowing his soulmate's extremely young age. With closed eyes, he forced out that he was 195 and knew how disgusting he was because of it.

— Instead of a slap or something worse, which Thorin wouldn't have opposed, thinking any normal person had the right to treat him like that after seeing it, Bilbo reached for his own wrist and, with suspicious enthusiasm, pulled off the leather bracelet he had worn since the Shire. On the pale skin was clearly marked Thorin's age, written in dark ink with characteristic dwarvish notches.

— Some time passed in silence as they both realized that such a coincidence simply couldn't be.

— They were in for a very pleasant evening away from the company🌚🌝

— Later, when the entire company gathered by the fire, Bilbo and Thorin would come to them, holding hands, the hobbit nearly glowing with happiness in front, and a red-to-the-tips-of-his-ears Thorin slightly behind. This would be the first time anyone in the company saw Thorin without bandages, and if not for the matching age on Bilbo's wrist, now also not hidden by a bracelet, they wouldn't have believed Thorin could be normal with such a number on his skin.

— And the dwarves would realize how young Bilbo was by their standards.

— Truly, the ways of the Valar are mysterious.

— At the very end of the night, Fili would nudge Kili with his elbow and hint that since their uncle had an inter-racial mark, he might not be so angry and yell when he finds out that his brother has a four-digit number on his wrist.