#sorry to my patrons who are already dealing with it

[teamfortresstwo]

Well . At least I won’t have to walk. ?

[madamechrissy]

Losing Control Now

Pairings: Mobster Gojo x bartender F!reader

Summary: Something about running the Gojo mafia just makes Satoru so bored. Boring, boring boring. Sure, he loves money, he loves women, he loves snorting snowy powder off their bodies. He loves the power that comes from it- but he's just bored. That is, until he stumbles upon you, the brand new bartender that makes him pause, falter, and then soon he becomes obsessed, with knowing you, in every single way. Paying off your mom's debts and working two jobs, you're exhausted, but something about this pretty Mob boy just makes you... excited again. How far in are you, and how far is Satoru in the mafia world? All he knows, is he must have you.

CW: Sexual tension, eventually explicit sex, mafia themes, drug themes, violence, obsessed Satoru Gojo, oral sex, possessive Gojo, drug use and drug dealing - lowkey Yandere fkn Gojo hehe. Light angst, some fluff, heavy smut, lots of teasing. This part- Lots of plot. drinking, making out, oral sex (M recieving) swallowing, fingering, some choking, light angst, sexual tension, whipped Toru- WC this part- 8.2k wc

That Gojo art is by michi_ia on X, divider be @cafekitsune, based on Satoru from Pour it Up (Sukuna's story) -set right at part 6 of that fic- You can read it alone, but I think it enhances this- Reblogs//comments appreciated if you enjoyy!

<<<part two - masterlist - playlist- Part four>>>

Part three

“They’re ready for you.” You hear your friend’s soft voice even over the blaring music, as you’re mixing up a drink. Sukuna’s girl now, they were just about inseparable, she is smiling brightly at you. “Satoru really has it bad.”

“No, you think so?” You flush a bit as she nods, helping open a couple of beers for the rest of the patrons sitting, entering numbers on the screen for you.

“Oh I know so, he’s pouting that you’re not there already.” Through all your exhaustion you can’t help but feel excited. “Also… talking about Mei.”

“You know now?” You ask her, frowning, while she takes your hand gently, pulling you away from the bustling bar as someone else takes over.

“I do, and I am so sorry, I didn’t know it was that bad, baby.” She has tears glistening in her eyes, even under the strobing red lights of the club, and you shake your head, brushing a hand on her bare arm.

“I wasn’t ready to tell you. But Satoru… I don’t even know him but…”

“You feel safe with him.” She finishes, and you smile, nodding then.

“That. Can you find if they have any drink orders? I’ll whip a couple up before I walk in. I know Satoru’s mix already.”

“Yeah, you know his flavor hmm?” You giggle and shake your head. “No way, not yet?”

“He wanted to… be very giving.” She’s grinning big, nudging at you now.

“Sukuna is too, my gosh though I owe him. My kid kind of…” She leans closer, conspiratorily holding a hand up. “I got off but… well…”

“Oh no!” You laugh just a bit, and she sighs.

“Mhm. He’s mad. I’ll get drink orders and help bring them!” She bounces off, before running back and helping you mix a few up. “Sukuna just likes to sip on whiskey, Toji it’s beer. Suguru is a little fancy, he likes a nice cosmo - Satoru loves anything that will give him diabetes as you well know. Now Mr. Choso…”

“Who is he?”

“He’s new. He said anything, so I’ll let you whip up something special.” She takes the shot for Sukuna and the beer for Toji and winks. “See you in there, baby.”

“Got it!” She’s giggling as she runs off, someone so upset before you remember, now she’s glowing being with Mr. Sukuna. Seeing the two of them just fuels how badly you want to have that with Satoru, but it seems insane. It seems too fast, but the man had just drank you an hour ago, how can you not go insane?

You mix up a classic rum and coke for Choso, grabbing his drink, Satoru’s and Suguru’s, heading into the huge VIP room, Satoru’s eyes light up bright when you walk in the intense atmosphere. You hand him his drink, smiling, then handing Suguru his, which he winks up at you.

“Thank you, love.” He murmurs, sipping and sighing. “So good.”

“You must be Mr. Choso?” You ask the other man in the room, who smiles sweetly at you, nodding, he’s without a girl in his lap like the other men, a little out of place you notice. “I made a rum and coke, is that okay?”

“It’s perfect, thank you pretty.” You flush at the sweet words from the man, but Satoru is standing and yanking you, making you gasp as he throws you on his lap, to the laughter of the room.

“My pretty bartender.” He grumbles, pulling you close, and you can’t help but giggle as your arms wrap around his neck.

“All yours hmm?” You whisper, he just nods, big hands taking over your waist as they begin talking, it’s constantly impossible for you to focus on shit when you’re in his arms, and he’s taking a blunt from Toji, inhaling it into his lungs, making even that action look sexy.

His lips around a blunt addle your already exhausted brain, reminding you of where they’d just been, making you heat up and shift. “Do you smoke, sweetheart?” He asks softly, coughing just a bit, and you shake your head.

“I haven’t before.”

“You little goody good. Girl scout.” You glare a little, just earning his pretty white grin across his handsome face. “Want a hit?”

“I’ll try.” You inhale the smoke barely, coughing out, and you hear Suguru and Satoru chuckle.

“You’re a horrible influence Satoru.” Suguru teases, you hand him the blunt as he smiles at you. “Don’t end up like him.”

“Excuse me!?” Satoru scowls at his friend, while he inhales the blunt, blowing it into the dancer’s mouth on his lap with ease. “Shit, why didn’t I think of that?”

“It’s hot.” Satoru glares now, and you giggle. “If you did it, I mean.”

“You better mean that. I’ll get jealous.” He pouts as you brush a thumb over his cheek, the scent of marijuana, cigars and Satoru’s cologne filling the air, swirling around you both, so heady.

“I mean it.” You press a kiss on his cheek as Satoru tenses, while Sukuna begins to speak. 

“We deal with Mei, she’s likely collecting debt for the Zenin.”

“I want to deal with her, personally.” Satoru says then, his jaw locked as he grips you so tightly squeezing your ribcage, you can feel his fury at her, making your brows knit with worry.

“Satoru, you can’t go running around provoking everyone without backup.” Suguru says, in between another hit, and Satoru scoffs now, as you feel the eyes of everyone on the two of you in the room.

“We have history.” Satoru mumbles, and Sukuna laughs then, shaking his head, as his girl scowls at his next words.

“Well who hasn’t fucked Mei?” Sukuna says amusedly.

Fucked Mei…

“You fucked Mei!?” You hiss, and Satoru flushes a bit, pulling at the knot on his black skinny tie.

“Maybe?”

“I did too, I think I was eighteen.” Suguru admits next to you, as Satoru stares at them all with an open mouth.

“I fucked her with Shiu Kong, threesome.” Toji says as he shrugs, sitting across from you all, a big hand on each stripper in his lap as they’re holding another blunt to his lips, and he’s exhaling, smirking with that scar on his lip stretching just a bit.

“Okay so everyone fucked this Mei lady, so can we make her stop being a bitch to my friend?” Your friend’s words touch your heart, and you feel Satoru relax just a bit, looking at her and nodding.

“We sure will, pookie, don’t worry.” Satoru says to her, before looking back at you and cupping your face. “But I wanna go alone.”

They try to argue about it, you even try to talk him out of going alone, but it’s no use, when Satoru wants something, he clearly will do it. He’s running his fingers up and down your back when it’s bare, sipping the fruity concoction as the plan to deal with who you’re hearing is the Zenin, which you know a bit about in stories, but it’s all so clearly real.

You had no clue your mom was in with such scary people, shit you didn’t even realize Mei was as scary as she was, and apparently… had slept with the entire room of men aside from Choso. The thoughts that she’s had Satoru make you burn with anger, not at him, but that she had him at all, possessive wild thoughts you shouldn’t be having yet, right?

But how can you not, when he’s fast becoming everything.

You were all alone before he brightened your sad, gloomy world.

“You alright baby girl?” Satoru murmurs to you softly, you blink just a bit, nodding. “Zoning out?”

“I’m just thinking about a lot.”

“About me?” He grins, and you bury your face against his neck, making him chuckle a bit, when the next words make you tense.

“We should take him the fuck out.” Toji’s gruff voice speaks of Naoya Zenin now.

“Let’s take Mei out too.” Satoru says, making you pull back with a gasp, eyeing his feral, insane grin and eyes that are too bright.

“Satoru!” You admonish, earning his cute little pout, like he’s some sweet baby and not speaking of murder. “No killing.”

“Do you know what a mafia is, baby?” You sigh, shaking your head.

“The solution can’t be taking people out.” Choso chimes in, Satoru sighs, leaning back and faking a yawn.

“Boring.” He mumbles, to the agreement of the room. “Let’s try to threaten them.” Satoru says then, and the room all reluctantly agree. “I’ll deal with Mei, Choso can deal with the Zenin before we get Sukuna involved.”

“What why!?”

“You’ll kill him, that’s why. Not that I disagree.” Toji says with a chuckle, and soon the room is dispersing, leaving you and Satoru again, just like that first time, and he’s eyeing you curiously.

“Do you mind if I kill her so much?”

“Oh god!” He’s grinning again, looking batshit insane, as you turn in his lap, straddling him now, watching his expression shift as he holds you in his lap, pressing you against his length. He’s feeling your heat, remembering the sweetness of your arousal all over his mouth, dying to fuck into you. “No killing.”

“For now.”

“Satoru!”

“I’ll try not to?” You sigh then, but that sigh turns into a gasp when he pulls you down further, and you’re grinding against his cock, whining out, his huge hands gripping your hair, lips hovering an inch from you. “I’ll try to negotiate first.”

“D-don’t pay for me, promise?” He frowns then, shaking his head.

“Don’t ask me that.”

“Please, I can’t take charity f-from- mnh…” He’s kissing you again, as you’re grinding on him, and he can’t think of anything but killing anyone who’s ever fucking touched you, your mom included, he doesn’t care.

He needs you to be his.

You’re soaking his slacks, earning his little smirk against your lips, hands slipping up the curve of your waist and hips. “Just trust me baby girl, can you?”

“I do.” You whisper, watching his snowy lashes lower, when his timer starts to go off from his pocket, and he winces.

“Can you get it for me? I hurt.” You laugh breathless, hand slipping into his pocket, making your cunt lift off him for just a moment, as his cock is pulsing, ready to fill your tight little cunt so good he can’t take it. You hand him the phone as he curses under his breath. “I have to go, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, of course!” You go to get up, but he’s pulling you back down, your arms wrap his neck, a hand brushing his snowy locks back then. “What is it, Satoru?”

“A date. Can we go on a date?” You feel your heart race at his words, god when is the last time you have had a date? And with Satoru!?

“Yes! I mean… yes.” He’s got a big grin on his pretty face, cupping your face with his long, slender fingers.

“I’ve never been on one?”

“What!? How!”

“That’s a story for the date, hmm?” You nod shyly, so fucking adorable Satoru can’t take it, the excitement making your tired eyes glitter. “Perfect, then I’ll have it all set for tomorrow, after I… take care of the situation.”

“Without killing.”

“Psh.” You nudge at him, and he rolls his baby blues. “Oh fine, yes. But, a date, you’re really down for it?”

“How couldn’t I be? I’d love to.” You feel a blush heat on your cheeks as he stands you up then, bending low and cupping your face with his huge hands, your own hands grip his wrists, looking up at him, seeing his pupils dilate, feeling the intensity of your emotions overwhelming.

“You deserve a good night’s sleep. And to relax, to have some fun, shit to just… live, okay? I want you rested up for the date.” He kisses your lips so sweetly, before it’s more passionate, and he barely resists picking you up and slamming you right against a wall, fucking into you until you pass out from how hard he’d have you cumming.

“I’ll need my energy, huh?” You tease against his lips, but he’s very serious as he pulls you against him in the room, still cloudy with smoke, but all you can breathe or feel is Satoru.

“You’ll need all your energy, baby.” He tilts your chin up, pressing another kiss, swiping off his phone when he pulls back. “You have yummy drinks to make, don’t you pretty?”

“I do!” He walks you towards the bar, the club is filled to the brim with men everywhere, women dancing, smiling, serving drinks, but Satoru’s eyes are only on you when you take back over the bar, and he leans forward.

“If you need me, you have my number, any time. Okay?” You nod and tuck your hair behind your ear, making his heart ache with affection. “You’re so cute.”

“You’re too sweet.” He leans forward, kissing you again, in front of curious eyes of the club goers and workers, murmuring about the notorious head of the Gojo family with a pretty bartender. You feel just a little frisky, yanking on his tie, deepening the kiss, and he moans into your lips. “Taste sweet.”

“Not as sweet as you.” He’s sighing when he pulls back, he doesn’t want all these stupid responsibilities, he wants to spend every moment with you.

Inside you.

Fuck his dick hurts, and he did it to himself.

“Will you text me when you get home safe?” You ask softly, so caring and sweet you melt him, he brushes his cool thumbs under your eyes carefully, watching you sigh in relief.

“I will. Good night, pretty bartender.”

“Good night Mr. Gojo.” He’s walking outside then, finding Suguru waiting on him once more, smoking a cigarette and leaning against the building.

“Gonna admit you’re obsessed now?” Suguru asks, and Satoru snorts, shrugging a broad shoulder.

“I am, okay, so what? But… Mei…”

“Yeah, I know you want to go alone, but let me at least wait in the car tomorrow when you see her?” Satoru nods, as his friend flicks the cigarette and puts a hand on Satoru’s shoulder.

“I would appreciate it. You really fucked her too?” Suguru has the grace to blush in the dark night, while the two of them lounge in the back of the limo now.

“Right at senior year.”

“Shit me too.”

“Have you two…” Suguru wiggles dark brows, and Satoru grimaces, pulling out a water bottle from the limo cooler and gulping the cool liquid, sighing.

“She tried to suck me and I turned it down.”

“You turned it down, a bj? You!?”

“Yeah.” Suguru’s chuckling, and Satoru glares. “What?”

“You’re down bad, shit.”

“Fuck if I don’t know that.” He swipes a hand across his face. “Blue balls like a mother fucker.”

“Satoru, having feelings, this is a new development.” Suguru gets a smack from Satoru, and smacks him back, as the two of them head to their destination, and for a moment it’s like it was back in school, before the two of them took on so many responsibilities.

Suguru was Satoru’s left hand, without him he couldn’t do all of this. “I do have feelings, I wanted her to just… feel good.”

“I taught you well.”

“Pshh, you’re younger than me? I knew how to eat pussy before you.” Suguru rolls violet eyes, leaning back and pulling out his phone then.

“You asked me for advice, I’ll never forget.”

“Oh whatever Suguru, you asked me for advice.”

“Pshh. She looked… pretty happy though.” Gojo grins big then, patting himself on the back big time.

“Yeah she did. I want her to… always look happy? I know, I know. I’m down bad.” Suguru just smiles, saying nothing, but seeing his friend lit up for the first time in seven years was something he enjoyed. “You’ll help me with Mei?”

“Of course, anything you need.”

“Good.” Satoru starts plotting in his mind then, hoping he can hold back just a bit of the terrible things he wants to do.

He’d do anything for a girl who he barely knows, but wants so badly to know every little part of.

*****

That night, you never get a text from Satoru, it’s late and you shouldn’t call him, right? You’ll seem clingy or weird or…

But you’re worried.

You’re laying in bed, exhausted as you pull out the phone, dialing his number, hearing his hushed whisper. “Hey baby girl, sorry we’ve had a situation.”

“Anything bad!?” You whisper in fear, heart hammering in your chest.

“We’ll be fine, it’s about Sukuna’s girl. But I’m okay, don’t worry about me, you get some sleep.”

“I wanted to know if you were fine or… I’m sorry I…” You’re turning on your side as Satoru leans closer to the phone, stepping away from his friends.

“No, no please. Thank you for checking on me? It’s really sweet and… you can’t bother me, okay?” You exhale in relief, in your past you’ve always felt like… a burden, an annoyance, and just his soft words of reassurance make you tear up.

He makes you ache for him.

“You know what I wish?” You say then, and Satoru’s own heart is pounding at your sexy little voice.

“What is that, pretty bartender?”

“That you were here, in bed. Shirtless.” His cock aches again, and he still hasn’t taken care of it, making him curse softly, hearing your breathless giggle.

“You’re torturing me, cruel, cruel woman. Shirtless hmm?” He’s walking further away, until he’s locked in the bathroom, hopefully out of earshot. “Why do you want me shirtless in your bed, what would you do?”

“I’d kiss and lick every part of your body. Slowly.” Satoru moans then, rubbing his cock over his slacks.

“Shit… You’re gonna kill me, y’know that?” His hoarse voice just brings out more from you, making you feel so daring.

“I’d kiss him too.”

Fuck.

“You brat.” You’re giggling once more, the sound making him smile alone, as he pictures you in that bed of yours. “Just kiss him?”

“Every inch, lots of kisses.” Satoru’s head falls back on the door, as you torture him with images of your pretty lips all over his length, your mouth open wide for his cum, before he fills every hole you have.

“You’ll be making this up to me tomorrow.” He whispers out, lost in the thoughts of you, and you’re snuggling under your blankets, he brings something out in you, this is not something you’ve said or acted like. But with him? It’s like he makes you want to have fun again.

“I sure will make it all up to you.” You’re picturing it, what does Satoru’s body look like, his cock felt huge and…

Fuck.

You’re torturing yourself too.

“I’ll hold you to that you know, all that talk, are you going to be a good girl?”

Good girl, shit, he’s fucking with you right back.

“Y-yes. I will. I can’t wait.”

“Then get some sleep, missy. You’ll need energy. Remember?” 

“Got it. Good night, Satoru.”

“Good night sweetheart.” He hangs up the phone, longing to be with you, but he has to push you deep in his mind for now, focusing, while you fall asleep, not realizing the impending danger surrounding you both, nor how willing Satoru is to fix this for you.

*****

“Gojo, what an unexpected surprise.” Mei’s voice practically purrs the words, sauntering over to him in her fancy office, decorated with the finest gold and blues all over, every inch of it oozing wealth, too much wealth, even Satoru does not go on such a display, and he knows he’s richer than anyone in this city.

“Mei, how are ya?” Satoru puts on an easy grin, he knows how she moves, how to play her, even though disgust fills his stomach at knowing what she’s done to you, he  shuts the door behind him with a resounding click, perching his signature Gucci shades down his straight nose just a bit.

“Been a long time…” She perches on her desk, crossing her legs and tossing back her light blue braids, slightly falling in front of an attractive face. Surely eighteen year old Satoru was all for Mei’s attention, but now it feels wrong to even act as he’s going to, when all he wants is you.

But he knows how to play this bitch.

“Aren’t you looking good, shit.” He whistles a bit, earning her flattered laughter, throaty and full, while Satoru waltzes in, hands in his pockets, until he’s right between Mei’s spread thighs in her business slacks. She raises a thin brow, slipping a hand up and down his tie then.

“You look pretty good yourself.” Mei brushes her hands against his cheek, and he tries to keep a calm demeanor, his own hand sliding up her back, watching as her barriers lower for him. “Miss me so much?”

“I’m here on business, I fear.” His hand entangles in her hair, as his lips hover an inch from hers, his other on her waist, watching as her expression changes, her hips shift just so.

“Just business?” She teases, pulling him closer.

“I need to know about a girl you’re getting money from, Mei…” He’s slipping a hand further up her waist, looming over her on the desk, as she gets visibly turned on from him, nipples pressing against her thin blouse, as he palms her under that dark blue blazer.

“A girl, hmm? Should I be jealous, Gojo?”

“I need you to stop the interest, cut her a break, as a favor for me, hmm? Could you do that sweets?” Satoru asks, voice humming softly, she blinks long light blue lashes, her hands slipping to his belt buckle then.

“A personal favor, what’s her name?” Satoru speaks it then, your name off his lips, making her pause a bit. “What’s she to you, is she so special?”

“I’m asking you to back off. I’ll pay off the interest, just don’t charge anymore, can you do that, hmm? For me?” He pouts at Mei, but her expression shifts then, to one of irritation, her body tensing now.

“You wanna pay her interest? No, sweetie, that won’t do. Her mother owes the Zenin a massive debt and that interest goes to me.”

“Then you’ll get it in your pockets quickly, don’t you love lining them?” His words turn to a low hum, grinning as he brushes fingers down her neck, and she sighs then, eyes icy as they stare daggers at him.

“Who is she to you?”

“A girl I’m taking on a date that’s so tired she can’t keep her fucking eyes open, and so much red bull she’ll have a goddamn stroke.” Mei laughs then, and Satoru loses it, squeezing her throat and cutting the laughter short. “I didn’t joke here, did I? Let me rephrase this shit, I’ll cut off any money from the Gojo family, if you don’t at least back off the interest. Got it?”

She’s pulling at Satoru’s wrist, but he’s squeezing harder, leaning over her now, and seeing a file with your last name right on her desk. But not your first. He pulls the file as he keeps squeezing, blue eyes narrowing as she’s sputtering for breath, not that he could care less. He smirks while she struggles, but then releases her, letting her cough shakily.

“Shit…” He whistles, as he reads through a gambling addiction that makes Toji Fushiguro’s look casual. Mei pulls a knife on him, which he casually knocks out of his hand with a little flick of his wrist, grabbing her wrist then as he bends it behind her, earning her grunt of frustration. “Ah, ah, you’re getting sloppy, what happened?”

“Oh fuck you.” He sighs, clicking his tongue as he holds her down with ease, like it’s nothing when he stumbles further on your file.

Twenty-Five.

Born right here.

How’d he never see you? Three years older than you, he wonders what your life was before, pursuing further to find you had just shy of a full psychology degree. What were you… doing here then, working some admin job and bartending? Did you give up college for this woman?

A woman with a rap sheet that makes him whistle, ignoring Mei’s struggles until she starts disturbing his reading, making him glare. “You’re lucky she is a sweet girl, or you’d be dead.”

“You’re threatening me?”

“Promising. Take the interest or I'll take care of this.”

“It’s not just me, you know it.” He lets go of her then, rolling his eyes as he snatches your files up for himself. “The Zenin-”

“The Zenin are on their last leg.” He smirks then, pulling out his phone, flashing a picture of their leader for her to gasp at. “Did you fuck him too? Aw…”

“What have you all done?” She demands, with horror affixed on her face, a face Gojo did find pretty before, but now it’s all you, and he can’t find an attractive feature on this woman’s greedy body.

“It’s none of your business, but considering the Kamo’s are now with us, you may consider a change of employer, hmm?” He grins now, as she takes off her blazer in a huff, throwing it on the back of her enormous desk chair.

“You’ll pay all her interest right now?”

“Give me a number.” She does just that, it’s nothing for Satoru but he knows you don’t want him to pay…

But he hopes you’ll forgive him for that too.

He needs to buy time.

“She’s not protected as some girlfriend, she’s not your wife or a member of the Gojo family, so they can keep coming after her.” Mei says then, while he transfers the obscene amount of money to her over the phone, and she plops down in her seat, lips curling up a bit.

“Money gets you so wet, doesn't it.” She glares, opening her mouth, he snorts then, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna know, actually. What do you mean by that?”

“If you actually want her left alone by others, not just me, then you’d have to marry the girl, or she’s not in your family.” Satoru falters at that, earning her nasty little smile. “I was the least of your problems, lover boy. But, she won’t hear from me or get more interest on my end.”

“They want her mom. I get that, but why her?”

“Collateral damage.” She says calmly. “It’s what you do too, don’t be mad because it happens to be some girl you want in your bed.”

“That is not all I want.” She blinks a little, standing up once more, coming up to him and trailing her fingers down his body, humming a bit.

“Maybe hate sex would be fun?”

“Not with me, sweets. Maybe one of my friends, I heard you were really catching these high school seniors like Digimon.” He shoves her off him with a grin now, slipping his sunglasses back up, while Mei looks at him furiously. “Kinda creepy, the barely legal thing Mei.”

Her face contorts into a scowl. “Oh just get the fuck out. Go have fun with your little girlfriend, she still will owe us the rest though.”

“For now. Pleasure doing business, Mei.” He winks and dodges a flying projectile, which shatters against the wall, exhaling as he leaves and shivering with disgust with having touched her.

What is this feeling?

He feels like you already are his, and you have a date tonight, it’s brand new, but he loves it, this feeling, the one where he wants to protect you, learn you, and make you feel so good you forget you ever had these problems. He would have paid the entirety of the debt, but he knows that’s too far for you right now.

He checks the time now, meeting Suguru in the car, handing him the file, which Suguru studies for a moment, whistling, his dark brows lowering. “Shit, this is her mom, huh?”

“Yeah. We have a lot more trouble than Mei.”

“How’d that go?” Suguru’s flipping through the file curiously, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes as he reads about you.

“As good as it can be, paid the interest, gotta hope she’s not mad about it, she told me no money…”

“Like you listen to shit.”

Satoru shoves Suguru, but the laughter dies as Suguru pulls up a particular page, where he sees your brother, who Satoru hadn’t made it to yet. “Shit, look at his criminal record. And he owes debts, is she paying them too?”

“Not that I know of. I know she said he begs for money.” Satoru’s jaw locks, studying them further.

“You can’t just kill her mom and brother, Satoru.”

“It’s tempting, they’re trash. But no, a conversation is all I’m thinking, hit the brother, offer him some money, figure out more what’s going on, how they got on the Zenin’s radar.”

“Surprisingly smart.”

“Hey now!” He scowls at a smiling Suguru, as his phone starts blinging, and his face gives it right away.

“She text you?”

“Yes.” He can’t stop his dopey grin. “Almost time for our date.”

*****

“Don’t be mad, pookie, mmkay?” Is the first thing you hear when you step into Satoru Gojo’s limo, and his eyes swoop down your body, hugged in a form fitting dark red dress, showing far too much of your perfect breasts, making his mouth drop open, cock already straining. 

“Mad at what, Satoru?” You ask, but he’s staring at your body, exhaling then, pulling you against his hard frame, making your mind go haywire. “Satoru?”

“Shit, you’re gorgeous. Fuck, this dress…” He’s running fingers down it, swiping the soft velvet, having you trembling in moments.

“Mad at what?”

“Shit…” He’s kissing your neck, a hand gripping your breast, eliciting a cry as his other finds purchase at your waist. “Taste yummy, smell good, look fucking-”

“Thank you, very much but… mnh, mad at what?” He pulls back then, frowning just a bit. “Did it go bad?”

“I mean, as good as we can hope.” He’s taking a breath, pulling back just so, trying to remember what he even meant to say. “Well, I paid your interest-”

“You can’t do that!”

“Baby it’s nothing-”

“But I… you… why…” You’re sniffling then, so touched but also you feel horrible he’s had to do this. “I’m too complicated for you, Satoru, I-”

“Complicated is good. I don’t want boring, yeah? Don’t want perfect. I want this pretty little mess right here, who looks so beautiful I can’t stop thinking of ripping this dress off.” You’re melting, breasts heaving, only making his hands grip them again, you bite your lip not to moan out loud. “I want all of you.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this. It’s not okay. It’s not fair.” You’re shaking your head, and Satoru cups your face now, leaning over you, it’s all him.

And you’re falling for him, so hard, so fast, it’s like falling off a cliff, a free dive with no fucking gear. Feeling more than you have in your entire life, for someone you’re not sure you deserve. Who is little you compared to Satoru Gojo?

“It’s not fair what happened to you, and I’m going to fix it, but for now, it gets that part gone, and that’s something, yeah? I didn’t pay it all, enough to get them all the fuck off you for now. Please, you never have to give it back. Ever.”

“Oh, Satoru…” You’re so exhausted then, it all hits you, all you’ve been dealing with alone, as you lean on him, on Satoru, and he’s pulling you into his arms so tightly, wishing to never let go. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You deserve so much more than what you have. Okay? I wanted to help, please don’t refuse it.” You’re kissing him, over and over, until your back is on the limo, and Satoru could take you then and there.

You’ve never wanted anything more, eagerly yanking on his shirt, deepening the kiss, while you feel his length hot and heavy against your inner thigh, even under his slacks. He gasps a bit for a breath, cupping your cheek, watching your eyes flutter shut in pleasure when he’s got his cock snug against your clit, hearing your every whine, cry and whimper.

“Thank you, Satoru.” He exhales in relief, shaking his head.

“Don’t thank me. I also… may have had to flirt?” You look away a bit, making him turn your face back. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I hated it. Disgusting.” You can’t stop the flush creeping from your cheeks, the fullness of your heart, how he looks at you, with those endless azure pools he calls eyes, so dilated now.

“What all did you have to do?”

“I flattered her, acted like I wanted her.”

“What now?”

“Aw, you’re jealous baby girl?” Satoru whispers, husky toned while his sweet cool breath brushes against your skin, and his hand slides up your collarbone, resting right at the base of your throat.

“That you touched her, yes.” Your admission is so soft and genuine, but you can’t help but express it.

“I choked her.” You glare and he grins. “Not sexually, she wishes, shit.”

“Sexually?” He sees it then, the curiosity in your pretty expression, in your lidded gaze and dilated pupils, while his free hand slips down your body, the other tightening its hold on your delicate neck.

“With you, it would be slow, deliberate…” He’s trailing off as he squeezes just a bit, pressure on your beating pulse. “Get you fuzzy and lightheaded, but never enough to hurt your pretty neck.”

“Mnh!” You’re crying out as you feel it, the pressure increasing, all while Satoru looks at you under those snowy lashes, licking his lower lip when he presses his fingers against you now, slick pooling so quickly it’d be embarrassing- if you could think right now.

“Feels good, hmm?” You nod just a bit in his hold, while his fingers gather all your sticky arousal, and he’s slipping them between your lips, up and down until he finds your hole, aching to be filled. The combination of his squeezing of your throat and his finger now curling inside your cunt are too much, your every sense heightened.

“Ah!” You’re crying out while he works your spot, increasing that pressure, vivid eyes watching your every movement, you’re clinging to him then, arching your hips while everything gets faded, fuzzy.

“You’re so pretty, fuck…” He’s murmuring more to himself than anything, watching the flush of your face as he squeezes, as he hears the clicking sounds of your soppy little pussy, just for him, releasing you for a moment. He sees his hand prints as you gasp for breath, pretty breasts heaving from your dress.

“That was…”

“Intense?”

“Yes but, I’d like more.” You’re burying your head against his chest as you whine out, while he crooks that finger up again, chuckling.

“Adorable, I swear. Want it a little more?” You nod eagerly, neck already sore, and he slips another finger inside you now, curling just so in gummy walls so slick, muscles so tight you’ve got him like a fucking vise. “Cum f’me, would you? Let me watch you.”

You shatter as he squeezes your throat tighter, fingers working you so good, you see fuzz all over, it’s black damn near, like a circle closing on a picture perfect face, with Satoru’s feral face hovering, fading. You scream out silently as he presses your throat so tight, you’re gasping for air while he chokes you through it, making you feel like you’re floating in the back of this limo.

“Gorgeous little neck, so tiny compared to my huge hands, huh?” Your eyes roll back as he thumbs your clit with his two fingers in, feeling all your aftershocks, finally releasing you bit by bit, until you eagerly suck breaths in. He’s pecking kisses all over your forehead, as your numb hands flex, trying to get life to them. “Oh, you really like that.”

You cough gently, rubbing your throat. “I’m apparently freaky.” You look up at him with a pout, and his grin just grows wider, easing his fingers out then with a wet pop.

“Open.” You do just that, sucking your sweet, tangy taste off his thick digit, watching as his nostrils flare from the sight. “Do you think I’m freaky?” You nod, as he kisses your lips softly. “You really haven’t seen shit yet, baby.”

“More freakiness hidden, hmm?” You’re so wet against the thigh that now presses between yours that you can scarcely function, blinking rapidly as your senses are skewed, engulfed in him. “Will you show me?”

“When you’re ready, yes. Are you not very…”

“No, not really.” You admit, you’ve done things but the way Satoru consumes you, touches you like he knows you, it’s hard to compare anything prior.

“You’re not a-”

“No, not that innocent. Do I give virgin vibes?”

“Kinda. It’s cute though.” You huff a bit then, pushing his chest, moving under him and making him groan out.

“I have done things, just they were… nothing like with you.” Your words make his heart hammer, as his cock is straining against his slacks, dying to be surrounded by your heat. “They weren’t anywhere close to what you did the other day.”

“I’m the best at eating pussy.”

“Clearly.” You both laugh, as he kisses down your body, over your dress, nipping and licking your breasts, then lower, feeling your thighs tremble on either side of his narrow hips, your hands entangled in his hair.

God he needs you.

“I want to please you, too.” You say as he’s slipping up the dress high, until it’s up on your hips, and he’s breathing against the pale blue lace of your panties, with a growing dark spot by the minute.

“So eager to suck me off?” You’re a little blushing mess again, when he licks your inner thigh, pressing a kiss on it. “Words, baby.”

“Yes, I want to.”

“And have you?” He’s kissing your other thigh, pulling your panties up so the lips are revealed on either side, making you squeak.

“No, but I’ve watched a lot of…” He pulls up a bit, grinning.

“Go on.”

“Oh man.” You’re covering your face now, hips jerking as he breathes against your pussy, making it pulse.

“Nuh- uh, spill.”

“A lot of porn clips, okay?”

“Naughty girl. Were you doing that before our call?” You refuse to remove your hands, until he bites your panty clad cunt, teeth sinking in until your hands drop, gripping his hair as he smirks up at you. “Gonna answer me?”

“Maybe.” He laughs softly again, tickling you to no end, you’re so sensitive and needy you almost cum from his damn breaths on you, releasing his hair just a bit, trying to calm your breathing.

“Got horny from porn then called me?”

“Got horny from you, then watched porn. Then called you.” He moans then, leaning back over your body, as the limo stops at a light, watching as the leds dance across your skin, your face, making his breath catch.

“You can suck me any time, I just wanted you to relax, not put in more work.”

“Is it gonna be so much work?” You tease, raising a brow, Satoru’s smirk speaks for itself. “It will be fun not work.”

“You’re underestimating him.”

“I am not, I am sure he is…” You’re giggling now as the car moves again, and he’s sitting you both up, brushing a thumb on your lips. “Huge.”

“Come find out then, so eager, huh? You’re slutty just for me?” His whisper excites you, and you can’t help but nod, when his hand entangles in your hair. “Get on your knees then, baby. We have a few minutes before we get there.”

You eagerly do just as he says, fuck you’d do anything he asks, the way he speaks, the way he looks at you, tilting your chin up, his blue eyes bright under his snowy lashes. You unzip him carefully, he watches as you do, as you slowly pull out a thick, veiny cock, so long it makes you nervous now, curved up with a blushing tip, leaking precum.

“You’re-”

“Huge?”

“Pretty.” He blinks then, women have told him how big he is, certainly, he’s a little conceited about it, but the way you look at it, touching his sticky tip with the milky precum and rolling little circles around the ridge, he bucks up in your hand from that.

“Pretty?” He murmurs, as you lap your pink little tongue along his slit, tiny hand trying to wrap his length, eliciting a soft cry from him that makes you ache more.

“Very pretty.”

“Shit…” He’s pulling your hair gently, watching you circle your tongue around his tip, just a bit unsure, torn between fucking into your throat and taking it easy on you, warring as his hands tense, your mouth sucking his tip in. “Oh my god… can you take more, baby?”

You just exhale, slipping more of his thick cock into your open mouth, eyes looking up at him, so sexy his cock twitches against your tongue. He’s leaned back for a moment, eyes fluttering shut, whispering filthy words as he guides you down further, your drool pouring down every vein, wrapped around his pretty cock.

Pretty, yes it was pretty.

“That’s it, sweetheart… f-fuck… t-take it, please, s-so good.” He’s whimpering now, a sound that surprises you from a six foot four mobster, one so conceited and sure, but he’s letting go while you suck him deeper and deeper. Your cheeks hollow when you suck hard, pulling up, and his hips thrust. “Fuck you don’t need lessons, you suck it so good, perfect f’me- ah!”

Satoru’s lost now, in your motions, of a cock he’s been stroking to the thought of you since he met, watching as tears form in your pretty eyes, as your nails press against his thighs, making him hiss when you go deeper. As you all hit a bump his cock is shoved even deeper, while you’re balancing yourself, he feels it, the back of your tight throat.

“Oh f-fuck… there, baby, you’re taking me so well… can you take it if I… fuck this tight little throat?�� You pull back with a pop, shifting your thighs, the friction alone eliciting a cry of pleasure that just makes him crave you more. “It’s okay if not yet.”

“I want it.” He’s lost then, sitting up and forcing his cock in your throat so deep you choke for a moment.

“Breathe out your nose, relax baby.” You do as he orders, Satoru Gojo still in that suit with a pretty cock slamming up your throat, stretching and burning, you feel him thicken inside your throat as the tip hits your uvula, you’re clinging to him, struggling to take more. “That’s it, not even gonna be able to talk, that throat is mine.”

Satoru descends into madness when you’re gagging just a bit, drool making his cock slicker and slicker, while the sounds of you sucking him wetly fill the limo, and he’s so close. The car stops and soon he hears it open, but it’s already too far, one or two more sucks and he’s busting, and you also have no intention of stopping, even as pretty tears smear that mascare.

“Where do you want it, baby?” You pull back as the door has a rap of Kiyotaka’s knuckles.

“We’re here Mr. Gojo.”

“I’m coming…” He chuckles as you giggle, covering your mouth with your palm as you do, and he’s brushing drool off your chin. “One sec.”

“My mouth.” You whisper, so daringly, he blinks before he’s got his cock back in your mouth, and you’re sucking him eagerly, swirling your tongue along every ridge, vein, every bit of him.

“You are going to be such a naughty girl f’me, look how pretty you fucking are like this.” He’s fucking your throat fully now, sitting up as your knees press into the soft mats of the floor, and you’re struggling to act calm, when you’re so nervous. “Pull back a little.”

You do as he says, earning his soft moan.

“Good girl, m’gonna cum, f-fuck can you… take me baby?” His voice is just a quiet whisper, and at your answer- sucking him deeper, he busts his creamy load so much it’s hard to swallow it all. “Oh m-my… that’s it, drink it all, like a good girl.”

You’re drinking Satoru’s milky cum down your throat, bit by bit, gulping him down while he pulses from aftershocks, biting his own lower lip to muffle his guttural groans and soft whines. He’s murmuring your name, over and over, you’re easing back just a bit, licking the rest of him up, saliva and the remnants of his sticky ropes dripping from your lips.

“God, look at you.” Satoru’s pulling you up then, yanking you to sit on his lap, as your eyes lower shyly. “Perfect, fuck I’ve never felt that good.”

“Really?” You ask softly, and he exhales, nodding, cupping your face.

“Is it normal to keep thinking how pretty your eyes are during it?” He’s speaking more to himself than you, brushing his thumbs in circles over your cheeks, which are burning.

“I thought it when you ate me out.”

“Yeah?”

“Your eyes… surely you know how beautiful they are. Also… you came a lot, you know- that was a lot to swallow, Sir.” You’ve got him laughing then, as he kisses your lips, tasting himself on them, and you shift just so, over his cock that’s still glistening with you.

You’re worth every bit of money in the world, worth it all, to have this moment with you, not just cumming - and fuck he needed it - but your laughs, your blushes, your cute little motions. Worth any fight or anything Satoru will have to do in order to keep you safe.

For the first time since he took over at age eighteen, he feels light, he feels so good, to think he’d do anything but spend time with you makes his heart clench. “Think I’m falling, shit.”

“Satoru… please don’t say that if you don’t… it will hurt if you don’t mean it.” You say, tears swimming now, while you press your lips against his again, softer, and he’s slinking a hand up your waist. “Because so am I.”

Satoru’s heart thuds now, gulping, throat dry at the sincerity of your words, not a woman who wants him for his money, his power, his looks, position… no you want him. And fuck he wants you.

“It’s insane.” You say, and he sighs, eyes darting back and forth across your gorgeous face.

“It is, but baby I’m insane, don’t you know?” You bite that lower lip, making him tut, pulling it from the grip. “I won’t say anything I don’t mean.”

“Neither will I, ever. I mean every word… of how much I feel. How my mind is racing, however… well it’s dirty.”

“Is it now?” He’s wiggling his brows, as you laugh softly. “The thoughts?”

“Um…” You’re whispering in his ear, like it’s a secret. “Could you choke me again, when we…”

“Oh… oh. Fuck yes I can. You liked it so much?” You’re nodding against his neck, he pushes your chin up to face him. “Choke you harder?”

“Yes, please.”

“Fuck do we need to go on this date? I can take you home, shit.”

“But you’ve never been on one!”

Satoru sighs, adjusting his cock now, and you eye it, seeing it’s already getting hard once more. “I want to go, I just also wanna fuck this perfect pussy.”

“We have time. No work tomorrow, remember?” He’s sighing, pulling you close against his chest.

“You deserve many more days off. Now, let’s go hmm?” You nod eagerly, ever curious where he’s brought you, when he finally opens the door, the cool breeze hitting both of your overheated bodies when you step out, eyes taking in the beautiful marina, along with a giant, beautiful boat bobbing up and down the water, lit up in the evening with soft white lights.

“What’s this? It’s beautiful.” You hold his hand then, as the breeze gently blows your hair back, and for a moment he forgets all the danger, forgets anything but how you look in that moment.

“It’s my boat. Just bought it.”

“Huh?”

“For the date.”

A/N- hehe- yes he bought a boat for that dattee. Still a lot more to go with these two, but Toru got some relief. This ties heavily into Pour it Up part 6 but I tried not to copy it verbatim and show a diff POV. I hope you all enjoy!!

Taglist #1- @thejujvtsupost @moonchu @thikcems @yenayaps @luvmichu @antisocialinlw @sukunadckrider @gojoslefttoenail @genticcs @sukuxna0 @saitamaswifey @monster-effer @gradmacoco @bounie1 @bestelizabeth1 @alygator77 @arabellasolstice @naina326 @1satoruu @silvarys @feliaeae @jkslaugh97 @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @simp-plague @ladyneisa @distractionforyourthoughts @erintaro @ninikrumbs @yesdere @stargirl-mayaa @wstaley2 @just-lilita @lady-of-blossoms @genshingeeksworld @yaoishipper19 @angryflowerwitch @strawberrysluttt @emochosoluvr @bluebrry05 @trishiepo0 @gina239 @bunheadusa @hazelll-trisk @simperisksksk @jud3thedude @breadsbasket @shhhhhhxoxo125 @gojosoups @starpachinko

[jinkiezzsstuff]

At First Sight PT2

Alastor x doe!reader

PART ONE PART 3

this is a short part 2 to a request, tbh i didn’t think about continuing it before so i struggled a bit and it’s quite short! i’m so sorry gang ;-; i hope it satiates yall if not lemme know what i can cook up for you

Warnings: love sick alastor + reader, ooc alastor, mates/soulmate trope, mentions of reproduction and pregnancy (dw yall i didn’t do the no no there is no pregnancy it’s just mentioned bc it supposed to be gn), short short, swearing, not proof read, hmmmm i think that’s it lmk whatcha think

wee little taglist for the people who asked kiss kiss: @fairyv-ice @chirimeimei

Tucked underneath Alastors chin you laid comfortably alongside him in bed. You’d been awake awhile now tail thumping softly behind you as you watched the demon sleep his smiled soft and barely showing. He laid in pyjama bottoms only chest bare and on display for you. You absentmindedly traced the scars along his torso feeling him respond with goosebumps every now and again.

“Goodmorning my doe,” Alastors voice rang out, killing the silence. It was shocking to hear his static gone and his regular voice out on display, dripped in sleepy sultry. “Good morning my buck.” You reply sickeningly sweet while crawling up to lean over his face, his eyes were lidded now gazing at you with a loving look in his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked playing with the stray hair that swept across his face. “Indeed darling very well. I should be good for several days.” He chirped happily, ears flicking. “We should head down, i need to talk to Charlie.” You say with a grimace.

Last night when Charlie caught you and Al, you felt guilty, you knew Charlie was a sweetheart but you practically abandoned her all day for Alastor, then scared her silly with a deal and sex! Groaning you grab your head while Alastor stood. With a snap of his fingers the two of you were dressed, and that did take a load of stress of you. “Come now my doe, I’ll be there the whole time, no shame and if there is we’ll be ashamed together!”

Alastor seemed pretty bright in his exclamation holding his arm out to you. Obviously you trusted Al you gave yourself and soul to him and only him just last night. So while attached at the arm the two of you trotted downstairs.

Arriving downstairs interlocked you were both greeted by all the patrons already in the living area next to the bar. Charlie was the first to make a noise gasping, meanwhile Angel was practically vibrating in his seat. Just as Angel was about to talk Vaggie interrupted. “You made a fucking deal!?” Screamed the fallen angel, hands thrown behind her as the rest of her body lurched forward. Frowning you bit your lip, of course this was gonna be an awkward conversation with Charlie, but with the whole hotel listening. Even worse!

“Neva mind that Vagina! Let’s talk about the real stuff. How big? Seven? Eight? Twelve?! Ouch-“ Vaggie knocked Angel over the head with the back of her spear. “Yikes alright, twelve is greedy…. ten?” Angel whispered cackling at Vaggie who growled at her. Alastor, obviously unhappy, began to crackle with static, black shadows oozing out from the floor and encompassing the room slowly.

At the sight of Alastor’s figure demonically stretching the room fell silent, you only gazed up at the deer slightly aroused by his stature and the way his antlers screwed out like branches. “You’re quite the sight.” You say dreamily, barely even noticing you spoke to begin with, Alastor’s head cracked down to you. Coming back to himself Alastor hummed out adoringly, petting your head but wanting to kiss you, unfortunately that was a step too far for him right now.

“Uhm anyway, YN, can you please tell me about the deal?” Charlie begged worry on her face as she looked to you and Alastor. You felt the guilt crawl at you again. “I… well I’m not sure why but there’s just this pull i have to Alastor, he asked me to be his i said yes i…” You veered off feeling too embarrassed by all the eyes, thankfully Alastor pulled you in theatrically waving his microphone around, taking the attention off you.

“Well this lovely doe was just made for me you see? I’m perfectly capable of protecting such a divine creature and though I don't doubt your ability, princess I'd feel a lot more comfortable being the one to do so.” Alastor fired off sounding like a proper radio host as he did so. Charlie looked confused but then perked up happily.

“This is thee perfect redeeming quality Alastor, love is so pure! This is great!” As Charlie felt giddy, Vaggie felt suspicious eyeing the red demon. “So what did you even sell- what was the deal?” You hummed tapping your finger to your lip; well you didn’t know, just that you gave yourself to him.

Looking up to Alastor for help here he happily obliged. “Worry not you angry little woman,” Alastor replied, pinching Vaggies cheek, her angrily pushing him off. “The contract was nothing greater than marriage.” The entire room, yourself included, was surprised at this. You knew this was a soul binding contract, but for him to make that connection on his own was well to you sweet as ever. Your tail flicked happily behind you as you looked to Alastor who returned to your side.

Charlie was as equally as happy as you were, but Vaggie and Husk kept within the same boat of apprehension. “Why so suddenly?” Asked Vaggie again, but Alastor shrugged her off. “I’m unsure dear, just that i couldn’t resist this little doe. Like fate.” Alastor pondered meanwhile you briefly seethed at Alastor for referring to Vaggie as dear.

“Maybe it’s like some soulmate bullshit between deer?” Angel pipped up, putting in his required two cents. Husk groaned at that, but Charlie squeaked jumping up. “That is totally possible! It happened with my dad! Well, y’know in the beginning.” Charlie chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear. Alastor shook his head rapidly a soft laugh echoing out of him.

“No way dear, how is that possible?” He mocked bopping Charlie atop the head with his mic, you again weren’t happy hearing him call another demon dear, but you let it fly. “Well you both are deer, could it be instinctual?” Charlie reasoned her pitch, giving away her uncertainty.

You hummed looking up towards Alastor to see him already looking down to you. “I think Alastor and I would need to talk about it privately before we have a group conversation about it. It’s kinda of embarrassing.” You admit already tired of the discussion. Charlie however didn’t like the idea of not having an answer, so with a plan in mind she turned to Vaggie. “Vaggie can you take them to the library, maybe look some stuff up online? We need to figure this out.” Charlie asked giving Vaggie a look that conveyed this was more of a do this rather than a can you do this.

Nodding her head Vaggie looked at you, who looked at Alastor. Alastor shrugged and muttered he didn’t see the issue, so long as you were safe. So you and Vaggie headed off, meanwhile Charlie calmly asked to speak with Alastor in private.

Alone in Alastor’s radio tower, Charlie sat on one side of the broadcasting table while Alastor sat behind it, tunes playing out of him. “So Al,” Charlie started breathing out a deep breath. “Can you please tell me what’s going on with the deal, listen i can’t have them get hurt! I’ll even make a deal.” Charlie said sadly gazing off, she didn’t want to make a deal, but she would.

Alastor watched her, and pitied her odd behaviour. Resting his chin on his hand Alastor sat quietly for a moment, Charlie waiting with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “It was nothing malicious that i can assure you. Although, i’m not sure what happened between them and myself, I felt pretty agressive in my feelings to protect them. Of course that private moment between us should’ve stayed private,” Alastors words were stern as he glared down at Charlie who shrunk bashfully in her seat.

“But suppose since you know i will confess in that moment of intensity, i did the only thing I knew how to do to my dear. I’m not particularly good with emotions, and so I simply ensured I’d have them with a deal.” Tapping his nails on the desk Alastor kept his composure but inside he was scolding himself for even letting that much truth out. Charlie seemed to like the sound of that though, nodding her head in agreement.

“So you won’t, and you don’t have any plans to hurt them?” Alastors ears pinned back subconsciously, he didn’t enjoy being accused of cruelty when it came to you, and he didn’t know he could be any more truthful. “My dear i swear, on my mother, not a hair on their pretty doe head, will ever be hurt by me.” Holding his right hand up, head high Alastor watched as Charlie eased into a smile. Nodding at him.

Rejoining the crew downstairs Alastor and Charlie were shocked to see you and Vaggie had returned. “How come you guys are back so quick?” Vaggie turned at the sound of Charlie’s voice, eyes bugged slightly. “Yeah you won’t believe what we found.” Vaggie said handing Charlie a book about demons and mating. Charlie didn’t seem too keen on the book ‘uhs’ immediately falling from her mouth.

You stepped up, opening the book to the checked marked place. “It’s species dependent on how mating affects someone, in this case Doe’s are more of a rarity in hell meaning it was an instinct for the two of us to kinda ‘mate’ or ‘bond’ to one another, as if we had to worry about going extinct.” You scoffed watching as Charlie glazed over the words while listening to you. “Weird. It must be because you’re a hellborn and an angel, so technically you can reproduce.”

A record scratch sounded out from Alastor, the lot of you looking towards his stiff figure. “Don’t worry Al, we’re pretty sure you’re still unable to.” Charlie hushed to him, before giving you a look that told you, she didn’t really know that to be true. You weren’t worried though, almost a hundred percent certain that he would not be able to have children. “Welp, at least now we know that’s a thing,” Angel sighed from the background, Vaggie glaring at him.

Pulling you into his side Alastor grinned his poise returned. “Look at us figuring stuff out why wasn’t this just the teamwork we all needed, good job.” Alastor applauded slightly condescending, but Charlie was happy with it nonetheless giving two thumbs up to you and Alastor.

[mejaemin]

i ♡ my girlfriend - lee donghyuck

wc: 1k

summary: a continuation of one of my caramel!haechan hcs, where you take care of him while he’s drunk

warnings: not proofread, alcohol, being drunk, nothing else!

an: somehow this came out to be not as fluffy as i wanted, like the request asked, but is still longer than intended??? im a wittle confuzzled guys.. anyways enjoy my first set of fake texts !!! i hope i did a good job (ignore the timestamps, this is set past 11pm in my mind)

(caramel!hyuck masterlist here! ʕ ᵔⰙᵔ⠕ʔ)

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

your phone begins ringing, and you pick up mark’s incoming phone call. “hello? mark, you didn’t have to call, i’m already-” you’re interrupted when his camera turns on, revealing your boyfriend instead of the one you were just speaking to.

“hiiiiii girlfriend! i miss you soooo much, mama… please come get me, there’s scary women looking at me and i want to be with you now..” his face takes up the entirety of the screen, purple lights casting shadows over his tanned skin and pouted lips. you can see a glimpse of his ‘i heart my girlfriend’ shirt at the edge of the screen, and it makes you smile softly.

“umm, okay, baby, i’m on my way. i’ll save you.” it takes everything in you to not go over the speed limit once you get in your car, a surge of jealousy flowing through your brain, but if his reaction was anything to go by, you don’t have much to worry about.

“you’re already on your way? really?! i love you girlfriend, please hurry! but not too much because i can’t have you crashing and dying..” he trails off, looking up at the boy who’s shoulder he was resting on and whispering, ‘markie, look, my girlfriend’s on the phone with me.’ you can’t hear much but you’re sure he’s had enough of donghyuck, so you call his attention once again.

“okay, hyuckie, i’m sure mark wants his phone back, so why don’t you hang up the phone, okay? i’m almost there.” at this, his face lights up, and he starts rambling about his excitement before the phone hangs up abruptly.

with a heavy sigh you park your car outside the bar and make your way in. you’re sure you stand out very well, messy hair and sanrio pajamas being a stark contrast between the put together outfits of other patrons.

making your way through the crowd towards the seating areas, you see your boyfriend sitting in the booth with his friends. funnily enough, mark sees you first, eager to get rid of the clingy, annoying boy.

he shoots up, leaving hyuck’s head to slip off his shoulder and hit the back of his seat. once he’s awaken, then he immediately gets up as well. mark helps him up through his stumbling, guiding him to your arms.

“hey,” he sighs. “he’s clearly very…” instead of finishing the sentence, he just gestures to him. throughout the whole time mark was speaking, hyuck was leaning into your shoulder mumbling things you couldn’t even understand.

“yeah, i can tell.. anyways i’m sorry you had to deal with him..” you smile awkwardly, having to pry your boyfriend off your body to make your way to your car.

“yeah, it’s chill. get home safely, okay?” he nods, waving to you before turning back to the table.

typically it would be a struggle to haul a drunk man to your car, but donghyuck is so clingy that all you had to do was walk by yourself and have him follow. when you put him in the passenger seat he wastes no time in kissing you while his seatbelt gets put on.

“thanks for getting me, mama. i was really so scared just now. ugh, being perceived by other women is just sooooo nasty!” he drones on dramatically, sighing heavily as he sinks back into the seat.

you make your way around the car, getting in the driver’s seat and starting the car. “oh yeah? aren’t you lucky i saved you then, hm?” you turn to him once again, pinching his cheek lightly before starting the drive back home.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

with all the strength you can muster, you finally haul hyuck up to your front door, quickly unlocking it and letting him in.

“ooh yay! we’re in mama’s house..” he drones on, stepping into the house and happily observing the decor.

“yup! now, hyuckie, do you wanna shower or just get undressed.” you turn to face him, pressing your hands to his pink cheeks.

“get undressed? hmm, i like the sound of that…” he’s smirking, his eyes in the shape of crescents.

you roll your eyes, turning around to guide him into your bedroom. it would be stupid to even respond to him, so you choose to instead ignore him. once he’s in you sit him down on the bed, instructing him to remove his clothes while you get him water.

when you come back in your room, hyuck has already met you at the doorway, stripped down to his boxers. he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly as he walks you back to the bed. before he can drag you (without knowing his own strength) onto the bed, you set his glass and painkillers on the nightstand. finally, you fall forward onto his chest, picking your head up to kiss his birthmarks.

“you seriously took so long just now. does it really take that long to get water? i literally could’ve grown old and died in that time.” he pouts, wrapping both his arms and legs around you.

“oh i know, hyuckie, i’m so evil, but i had to get the stuff to take care of you. don’t you want to be taken care of?” you ask, twirling a piece of his curly hair between your fingers.

“hm… i guess that is really nice..” he trails off.

“okay, then let’s get up and clean you up, okay?” you offer, pushing yourself off of him and leading him to the bathroom.

you already did your own routine prior to picking hyuck up, so you really just stood there for emotional support while he (clumsily and half-assed) washed his face and brushed his teeth. you already decided that a shower would not be best right now, so after he finished up you went straight to bed.

flipping up the fluffy pink covers, you lay down first before inviting hyuck into your arms. he slips under as well, but before he fully lays down he grabs one of your many plushies and brings it with him. trapping it in between your bodies, he gets comfortable and finally is able to rest, happy in your arms. unfortunately for you, you won’t be having much rest for the next few days due to hyuck’s tendency to milk your care until it’s dry.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[gudfornuthin]

Unexpected Comfort

Season 4!Diego x fem!reader, (past) Five x reader

! SPOILERS AHEAD !

! MINORS DNI !

Summary: after finding out the news about Lila and Five’s relationship, Y/N needs to get away from it all. Who knew she’d find comfort in the one other person broken too?

Word count: 2.65k words

A/N: ayooo. I wanna thank everyone for the support I received from my Five fanfic, it means the world to me that people read and enjoy my writing. I’m definitely thinking about ideas for a part 2, and I also have some requests I need to complete, but for now this lil thing popped into my head and I had to make it. My sweet Diego deserved so much more. There’s fluff, there’s angst, there’s a lil bit of smut (I’m trying to get better at writing that lol) so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Those were the words that came out of Five’s mouth before Y/N stormed out of the house, leaving behind the shocked faces of the Hargreeves siblings.

Five had cheated on her. With Lila. Diego’s wife, the mother of his children. She felt like throwing up. They’d created a life together, seeming to forget all about the life they had here, in the real world. Five tried explaining how a few hours to her had been years for him and Lila, but Y/N wasn’t having it. She couldn’t imagine giving up on a relationship she’d spent so long working on, like it meant nothing at all. At least they weren’t married with kids. She doesn’t want to think about how much this is killing Diego.

Having left the house, ignoring the calls from the family, Y/N continued walking for what seemed like hours. She wasn’t familiar with this side of town, and the dark streets all blended together. Had she already gone this way? Was there a bus stop she could seek shelter under for the time being? The night was getting colder and she was finding it hard to catch her breath, the tears still flowing. She knew she couldn’t continue on for much longer.

After walking a few more blocks, Y/N finally spots a bar/diner, the lights still on inside. Better than nothing, she thinks, as she slowly makes her way towards it, in desperate need of a drink.

The diner is quiet, only a few patrons scattered around, either drunk or on the verge of passing out. The bar tender nods in acknowledgment when Y/N sits on one of the bar stools, asking what she wants.

“I’ll just have a beer.”

The bar tender rolls his eyes. “What kinda beer?”

Y/N shrugs. “The cheapest one you’ve got.”

He wonders off to sort out her order, as she rests her head in the palms of her hands, closing her eyes and trying not to sob like a baby. The pain in her chest still lingers, as she can’t escape the images of Five and Lila, and the life they had made together. The life that should’ve been hers. With everything going on, she’d almost forgotten about the world ending, again. But that was surprisingly the least of her worries at the moment. She just wanted to scream, and punch and kick anything that got in her way. She needed a cigarette. And she doesn’t even smoke.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

A voice sounds off to the side of Y/N, as she slowly opens her eyes. A beer bottle stands in front of her, and she turns to her left, spotting Diego in the seat next to hers. He looks worse for wear. Red eyes, prominent frown lines, and a pouty lip.

“You look like a kicked puppy,” Y/N mumbles, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Diego replies in a gruff voice, grabbing for her beer and taking a swig.

The pair go quiet, listening to the soft tune playing through the overhead speakers, dwelling in their own thoughts. The two of them had never exactly been close. Since Y/N joined the family she’d always gravitated more towards Klaus and Alison. Frankly, she didn’t understand why Diego was here with her. Maybe because they were both dealing with the same situation, with both their partners being the main focal point. Or maybe he was just in desperate need for a drink too, as shown when he downs the rest of the bottle. Y/N alerts the bar tender, putting up two fingers to ask for a second round. Hopefully she can actually have some this time.

“Was I a bad husband?” Diego finally speaks up, breaking the somewhat awkward silence.

Y/N glances his way, unsure of how to respond.

She clears her throat. “I dunno if I’m the right person to answer that,” she scratches at the label on the beer bottle. “But from what I saw, you were pretty good at it.”

He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “And you’re also a good dad. I can’t imagine how hard it was, going from one apocalypse to another, to just living a normal life. Pretending none of it ever happened. You didn’t let that get in the way of taking care of your kids. They know you’re a good dad.”

She notices the tears forming in Diego’s eyes and looks away, knowing he wouldn’t want others to see him cry. She sips her drink, the burning sensation hitting the back of her throat.

“For what it’s worth,” Diego starts, “you’re not a bad girlfriend.”

“I never thought I was,” Y/N bites back, her tone harsher than she wanted it to be. “But what are you supposed to think when the love of your life admits to having an affair?” She laughs bitterly. “With his fucking sister in law!”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” Diego says, rubbing incessantly at his eyes. “Just tryna make you feel better.”

“Well you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

They bask in silence again, both too stubborn to apologise for snapping at each other. They know neither of them are in the wrong. But the wounds are still fresh, and it doesn’t seem like they’ll heal anytime soon.

Almost an hour passes, along with 9 or 10 bottles of beer between them, when the bartender finally tells them it’s closing time. They both get out of their seats, leaving the bar and standing awkwardly outside in the cold, Y/N shivering having left the house without a coat.

“You cold?” Diego dumbly asks.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Well done, Sherlock.”

Diego looks as if he’s about to say something in retort, but chooses not to. Instead, he silently slips off his jacket, handing it over to her, insisting she takes it before she can refuse. She does so, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’. They continue standing outside the bar, watching the occasional car drive past, lighting them up every so often.

“I can’t go back there,” Y/N says. “Not yet anyways.”

It was a stupid thing to think that this could all be avoided. She’d eventually have to face Five properly, let him explain fully what happened during that time he was away. But she couldn’t. She doesn’t want an explanation, or an excuse. She just wants it erased from her memory. To forget about it all. To forget about Five.

Diego puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood to figure out that shit show tonight.”

He pauses for a beat, then briefly glances at Y/N. “There’s a motel not too far from here. We can grab a couple of rooms, take the time to get some rest, and figure all this out tomorrow.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nodding in agreement, and following Diego to their accommodation for the night.

***

The pair arrive at the dingy looking motel, booking two rooms next to each other, and muttering quick goodnights. Y/N can feel the exhaustion taking over, as she sits down on the bed, and yet the thought of falling asleep makes her anxious. She can’t remember the last time she went to bed alone. It was always Five right by her side, comforting her if she had any nightmares. Which had become more and more frequent the past few weeks.

She tries distracting herself by turning on the tv, flicking through empty channels and purposely avoiding the news. She takes a shower, scrubbing off the physical and metaphorical grime. It helps her feel slightly better, but still she’s wide awake. She walks laps around the room, which isn’t much considering the bed takes up most of the space. And yet she still can’t sleep.

Her mind wanders to the man in the room next to hers. Is Diego having the same issues as she is? Or has he completely worn himself out to the point of passing out for the next several hours. Is it too forward if she goes over there and asks to stay with him for the night? He could end up giving her a weird look and slamming the door in her face. Or he could see a woman, sad and distressed, and know she’s just in need of someone to comfort her. The risk is worth the reward.

Y/N leaves her room, stumbling slightly over her own feet, the alcohol starting to take effect. She steadies herself, standing in front of Diego’s door and knocking. It takes a moment, but he finally opens, shirtless and hair a mess.

“What’s up?” He says, his voice gruff.

Standing in front of him now, Y/N can’t help but feel stupid. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her problems right now, not when he’s still trying to figure out his own. The only thing on Diego’s mind is most likely Lila, and getting some much needed rest. This was a bad idea.

“Uh,” she shakes her head. “It’s nothing, no. I shouldn’t have disturbed you, I’m sorry.”

She begins to walk away, trying not to fall over, until Diego’s voice calls her name. She turns, seeing him standing half way out of his room, a sad expression on his face.

“Neither of us really wanna be alone right now,” he says, motioning slightly for her to follow him through the door.

She waits a second, unsure if this was the best idea. Now feeling as if they were both about to cross a barrier that neither of them could walk back through.

Taking the plunge, Y/N silently follows Diego into his room, closing the door behind her. She suddenly felt nervous, unsure as to why. Diego is already back in bed, getting comfortable under the covers, ready for a much needed sleep. Y/N looks at the bed, then towards the small couch, not knowing which one she’s welcome on.

“Diego…”

“It’s fine,” he rolls over, not looking at her. “You can build a pillow wall if it’ll make you feel better.”

Y/N nods, not wanting to admit how glad she was that she could sleep next to Diego tonight. She’d feel this way about anyone at the moment, right? It’s got nothing specifically to do with him. Her mind is racing, as she climbs into bed, hoping to fall into a deep slumber as quick as. She doesn’t build a pillow wall.

***

Barely an hour passes before Y/N is woken up suddenly by a sound. She sits up in bed, eyes bleary and watery, looking around the room with squinting eyes. The bathroom light is on, shining through the cracks, and Diego is no longer beside her.

She hears the sound again, a soft whimper, barely audible. It’s coming from the bathroom, and she can already guess who it is. She slowly scoots out of bed, tiptoeing on unsteady feet towards the door, knocking slightly. No answer. And the noise has stopped.

She knocks again, trying the door handle at the same time. It budges, as she gradually pulls it open. The sight was heartbreaking. Diego sits in a curled up ball in the corner, covering his face, and desperately trying to stop his heavy breathing. He doesn’t acknowledge Y/N’s presence, as she moves over to him, crouching down. She gently grabs his hands, pulling them away to see his red, tear stained face.

“I’ve lost everything,” he whispers, breaking Y/N’s heart more than it already was. “I feel like my life’s over.”

Y/N strokes his hands, trying her best to soothe him in anyway that might work.

“I have no purpose without her,” he continues. “I try saving the world, but I couldn’t save the one thing that matters the most to me. I’m useless.”

“That is not true,” Y/N finally replies, hating these thoughts running through Diego’s mind. “Her actions are not a reflection on you.”

Diego begins to protest, but Y/N quickly shuts him down. “I know how much you care. Sometimes I think you care a little too much. But that just proves how good of a husband and father you were. You did nothing wrong. It’s all on her. And Five.”

She chokes out the last part, almost forgetting about her own problems. They’re both going through this, together.

Y/N doesn’t even realise she’s now crying too, holding her hand up to her mouth to muffle the sound of her sobs. Diego reaches out, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, the pair needing comfort from each other more than anything.

She moves her head back slightly, kissing Diego on the forehead, then the cheek, then hesitating at his lips. Her mind feels fuzzy, as the alcohol in her system still lingers, jumping between the pros and cons of what she’s about to do. Diego makes the decision for her.

The kiss is soft at first, his moustache tickling her upper lip, the sensation of it weird but not unpleasant. She wraps her arms around his neck as he puts his hands on both sides of her face, deepening it into a full blown make out session. Y/N opens her mouth, allowing Diego to slip his tongue in, eliciting a quiet moan from her.

Their current position is uncomfortable, as Diego sits pressed up against the sink with Y/N crouched down in front of him. He pushes her back slightly, so they can both stand, never stopping the kiss. The room feels hot, as they walk out of the bathroom and aim for the bed, Diego sitting down on the edge with Y/N straddling his lap. She quickly removes her top and bra, drawing the man’s attention to her breasts. He moves away from her lips, traveling down until he’s eye level with her chest. He takes one in his mouth, sucking harshly, while his hand massages the other.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N sighs, throwing her head back.

She grabs his hair, pulling a fistful of it, forcing Diego to suck harder. She moves her hips back and forth on his crotch, desperately wanting to get out of the rest of her clothes.

As if reading her mind, Diego pulls back, moving them both higher up the bed, quickly removing his pants as Y/N does the same. Now completely nude, the pair become a sweaty mess of body and limbs, wrapping themselves around each other, and making sounds the other occupants in the motel can definitely hear.

Diego’s thrusts are meticulous, as he hooks one of his arms under her leg, pushing in and out, knowing all the right places to make Y/N scream out in ecstasy. He kisses her lips, her neck, her chest and her breasts, not wanting to leave out any part of her. He makes her feel wanted, admired, needed. Like he can’t breathe without her. It feels good. They carry on into the night, and early morning, for a moment all their problems don’t exist anymore.

***

Y/N wakes up first. Her head is pounding, her mouth is dry, and there’s a dull ache between her legs. She grumbles, the memories of last night rushing back to her in an instant. Some good, some bad, and some unforgettable. A small part of her is consumed with guilt, knowing what she did could be seen as hypocritical.

But as Diego’s strong arm wrapped around her waist pulls her closer to his chest, snuggling into her neck, that feeling washes away. In some selfish way, they both needed this. An eye for an eye, as most would say. It’s not going to end well, and she knows they’ll have to eventually deal with the consequences the same way Five and Lila did, but for now, the rest of the world can wait a while. Y/N turns around, moving impossibly closer to Diego, the man who made her feel wanted at a time where she didn’t think she was.

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?” 

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?” 

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

sevika x f!reader

this was written for a request by @moonylvs ᜊ about sweet but secretly strong reader. also this is heavily inspired by laufey's vibes.

tags: fluff that's it i guess haha

you weren't someone interesting. another one of those semi popular zaunites singers. performing your jazzy lovey dovey songs couple days a week in a bar. for sevika you were a background noise as she came and went for another round of drinks, a game or a more of a casual business meeting.

it's not like she didn't notice. it, probably, was impossible to ignore your presence, always sticking for an hour or two after your shift, chatting with your friends. it seemed like everyone was at least acquainted with you. you were a real social butterfly, flying lightly between tables, paying attention to everything the visitors had to say. sevika even shared a word with you the first time she came and you made sure to introduce yourself.

cute. all that she thought. nothing more really. and if you were a little more pushy with her, the overall sweet image of you would've turned annoying quickly.

another day, another evening at the bar. sevika chose to spend it with the group of friends after work, catching up. though there was nothing much to discuss. the week was relatively calm for all of them. sevika's eye wondered, scanning the rest of the patrons as she was half-listening to her friend's story. her gaze got caught on you in the passing. already finished with your set, you were lounging at the bar counter with the glass of your favorite cocktail in hand, talking to some guy. nothing new around here too, sevika thought. as hours passed, she continued to look around occasionally, wishing to go home and end this boring evening.

finally, something caught her interest. your frame was becoming more dense, little high-pitched giggles that were reaching her ears gave off strained tones every time sevika slid her gaze your way. she didn't paid it much attention at first. who knew how you reacted to your dates, maybe it's just an anxiety. now, though, it was pretty clear you didn't want to be there and the man wouldn't get a hint. no one else seem to notice your discomfort to come save you, but it's not really her deal. your fault for having no spine to tell the guy to fuck off.

her calm evening seems to come to an end when she notices the man slides his palm up your shin. sevika sighs and stands up begrudgingly. damn her sense of justice.

"sevika, where'er you going?" her friend calls out, making her turn to reply.

she has no time to do so though, because a heavy thump breaks bar's chill atmosphere. sevika's head whips around. and there you are, standing with eyes full off rage above the unwelcome companion.

"are you insane?" the man screams, holding onto his jaw in pain, stumbling to stand up.

"not my problem you don't understand human language!" you raise your voice.

sevika doesn't have much time to think everything through, her legs already on the way to you. she grabs guy's shoulder roughly when he tries to reach for you.

"back off, the woman said no" as he realizes who's speaking to him, he mumbles something bitterly and hurries away, too afraid of silco's second in command.

sevika's attention now on you. "you okay?"

"yeah- yeah, sorry." you shake your hand, something hurts from the punch you gave the man. one of the waitress, your friend possibly, runs up to both of you, fussing over, suggesting to use the stuff room to check over yourself.

"you good. maybe gonna bruise a little." sevika gives her verdict and lets go off your hand. "he's one of the finn's, those guys have metal all over. probably had his teeth or jaw done."

"thanks again." you say, wiggling your fingers. "i'm sorry to cause a scene."

sevika can only huff out. you just got harassed and that's your response?

"didn't know you actually had it in you." she says instead. "that was a nice hit."

"ah- my older sister taught me." you laugh embarrassed.

sevika walks you home that day, to "make sure you won't get into another trouble" as she says to you and herself. you share stories on the way, mostly about your siblings. "we use to quarrel a lot and i was the youngest so i always was losing fights, until my sis showed me some moves." it makes sevika laugh genuinely, imagine you as a child arguing with your brothers and sisters.

and that's where it starts for her. she can't stop thinking about you. sevika doesn't understand how a woman like you can hold so much gentleness and still have that edge underneath. her memories wander to that fire in your eyes.

weeks pass and she finds herself dropping by more and more, waiting to spend some time with you. it hits her one day, when she comes into the bar only for one of the employees to immediately inform her you don't work today, that she might have a problem. (it's called a crush, but she's too stubborn to call it that.)

a month goes by and she does nothing with it. either too busy to think about her feelings or spending her days in doubt. there's not a chance you with your bossa nova voice, denim overalls and sweet smiles would choose such a harsh and rough around the edges woman.

it all comes to an end one day. catching sevika alone, when her friends went out for a smoke (and, yes, she stopped since you mentioned you don't like smokers much).

she sits on the sofa, playing with an ice cube in her glass, when a shadow covers her and she raises her eyes, you standing over her, looming, your fist diggs into the hip, like you're some angry kids cartoon character.

"so? how long do i have to wait before you invite me on a date?"

sevika chokes on her drink a little, surprised. there's that fire again, brows creased, displeased, maybe even angry. sevika takes a moment to catch her breath, more because of the way you look and not her drink.

"yes... i-" she literally doesn't know how to react and stumbles over her words. she tries to compose herself. "i was actually about to-"

"good then." you don't let her finish, looking more like you're about to lecture her than be happy that something in your relationship moved. "cause girls started to make fun of me for running around you. hope you're free tomorrow evening."

sevika nods but you don't see it, already off to the little stage, to play the next songs.

a chain of laughter rings out, the waitresses run off as sevika turns to glare their way.

[thebarontheabyss]

hi love!! hope you're doing better, we miss you <3<3 please please please don't put unnecessary pressure on yourself, you should put your wellbeing before our entertainment! your IF is genuinely so good already and shows how talented a writer you are. as a perfectionist, things are never going to be perfect, and i know you're worried about people's interest waning, but that's okay because it's going to happen even to the best of games! pace yourself, and take as long as you need :)

Omg, this is so kind! ❤️ Thank you.

Honestly my reasons for taking a break are so dumb I’m kind of embarrassed to share them, but my therapist did say I should be more honest about my feelings with people lol, so maybe this is a good opportunity to just lay them out in the open. Or… puke them.

First of all, I’m sorry for disappearing on y’all like that.

I was dealing with a nasty combo of starting a new job and recovering from a year-long depression.

This game kept me going for a long time and gave me a reason to get up in the morning. I discovered an amazing community here on Tumblr, and I genuinely appreciate every single one of you who took the time to play TBOTA. You gave me air when I felt I had none.

Ironically, now that I'm recovering, I'm starting to have self-doubts about myself, my writing, and the game. Ultimately, I want it to be published, but I’ve really struggled to get people to read it beyond Tumblr and the small, yet incredible, reader base the game has here.

Which is understandable, I didn’t exactly picked the hottest and most popular genre for these types of games lol, and I SHOULD be thankful for what I already have…

But I was also, as Katya Zamolodchikova once said, “bombarded by a cacophony of demonic voices in my head telling me YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH”

Wow this is getting longer than I wanted.

Anyway, the point is, I just feel like updateing here is a time I could spend working on the update, which I’m working on but very slowly atm. I am trying to pick up my pace, and thank you for providing me an opportunity to update because I didn’t know how or what to say.

So… to all patrons who are waiting for the next update… I won't disappoint. Finishing this game is something I’m going to do for me, to prove to myself I could, first and foremost.

And I’m so thankful for each and every one of you who joined me along the way to the Abyss.

Esh ❤️

[one-and-a-half-threat]

Dear Adam— A Short Story

(I can’t remember if I’ve posted this on my blog before! I might’ve posted it sometime last year— I’ve posted it in a community but not on here I’m pretty sure. So please enjoy :D)

~~~

Dear Adam,

It’s been three days since we’ve learned you’ve gone missing.

Mom is blaming Dad for encouraging you to join the search party. She said something about how she saw stories that some of the people who go looking for people lost in the canyon get lost themselves, that it’s too risky and stuff. But you were looking for your best friend, and I think that’s honorable. I just wish the outcome was different.

I wish I could have gone with you, but Mom would have lost her mind. And I’m sorry I couldn’t keep your secret for very long, but if I hadn’t slipped up about where you were, she never would have called you, and we might’ve never realized that you’d lost your phone.

Nobody will tell me anything, they keep saying that I don’t need to be concerned with any of this because it’s an “adult matter”. I hate being patronized, it’s not like I’m a baby. I’m fourteen. And so, I’ve been forced to eavesdrop.

I did a little research online though– it was stupid of your friend to have wanted to go camping in that canyon anyway, with how common mudslides are over there, but I’m not reading anything on the news that says there was a mudslide recently.

I’m really just doing anything I can to put my mind at ease. A deepdive into the statistics on how common it is for missing people to get found, eavesdropping on conversations I’m not supposed to hear, writing letters to you in hopes that you’ll actually get to read them someday. Hannah invited me to stay at her house for a while, but I told her no. I can’t be distracted.

Tomorrow I plan on going to the community center where the search party was organized, and I’m hoping they’ll have some information. If they do, I’m hoping that they’ll actually tell me.

I’m not giving up on you. Please hang on.

With love, your sister,

- Charlie

~~~

Dear Adam,

It’s been six days since we’ve learned you’ve gone missing.

The community center refused to tell me anything without a parent’s permission, so I guess I’m out of luck with that.

I heard Mom and Dad discussing what to do with me; I’ve been going to school, but I’m falling asleep in class and I guess some of my teachers called home. Dad suggested I go to Grandma’s house until Mom starts to feel sane.

Maybe I should go to Grandma’s house, at least over there I won’t have to deal with Mom. I feel bad talking about her like this… I know she lost her son, but I lost my brother. Doesn’t that mean anything? Maybe Grandma will make me feel better, I think she’d understand why I had to keep your secret from Mom. I feel like Mom’s mad at me for not telling her that you left. Any second now Mom and I will explode at each other, and then I’ll really have to get sent to Grandma’s house. I guess I’ll bide my time.

With love, your sister,

- Charlie

~~~

Dear Adam,

It’s been ten days since we’ve learned you’ve gone missing.

Mom and Dad sent me to Grandma’s house. When she opened the door for me, she had ice cream waiting on the table.

Grandma tried to comfort me while I inhaled the ice cream. She said, “You know your parents are just doing what’s best for you.”

“What they think is best for me,” I muttered. Then I sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I know you're stressed.”

“They won’t tell me anything. I know they don’t want me to stress, but I’m already stressed. I just want news– any news will be good news.” I glanced at her. “Will you tell me anything?”

Grandma hesitated, but I could tell she felt bad. “I’ll tell you that they found Adam’s friend.”

I almost jumped out of my seat. “Was he okay?!”

“Dehydrated and disoriented, but alive.” She fidgeted with the tablecloth. “I promised your mother that I wouldn’t give you any more news that might upset you, so I’ll leave it at that.”

“What? Wait–”

Grandma interrupted me. “I said that I’ll leave it at that, young lady.”

I felt defeated, but I was grateful that I had learned anything at all. I figure that I can get little bits of information out of her slowly, so that she doesn’t really suspect what she’s doing. The biggest downside behind not staying at home is that I can’t eavesdrop on Mom and Dad, but maybe that was their plan.

It’s good they found your friend… it kind of makes it so your efforts weren’t in vain. I heard from Hannah at school that another search party might be organized, but for you this time.

My teachers at school have begun to be nicer to me. My biology teacher let me drop a failed quiz, and my English teacher let me sleep in class. It feels weird being given special treatment, even if people are just trying to help me. I don’t like it. Hopefully it will be over soon, because they’ll find you. Someone will. I love you, and I’m not giving up on you.

With love, your sister,

- Charlie

~~~

Dear Adam,

I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since you’ve been gone, I haven’t written in a few weeks. Time has started to blur.

Grandma’s been surprisingly tight-lipped while I’ve been here, so I haven’t been able to learn much. I don’t even have much to write about now, I just miss you a little more than usual today.

Actually, I know what I’ll do. I’ll put down a list of what I know so far about your case. My sources include spying on our parents, interrogating Grandma, and Hannah telling me what she’s heard from her older sister.

Your friend got high while out camping with his girlfriend, and wandered off in the middle of the night for miles. He fell down a ravine and was stuck for a week, but he was found by members of his search party. He hit his head and broke some bones and he was dehydrated, he’d been surviving off puddle water. He was in the hospital for a few days before they let him go home.

When you went to join his search party, some people said that they saw you straggle away from the group on the second day.

You told me not to tell Mom where you were because she doesn’t like your friend, and you told me to tell her that you were going to visit our cousins or something. I accidentally slipped up on the third day, Mom called you, you didn’t answer. We checked your location and realized you didn’t have your phone.

The cops think you ran away. When they told Mom that, apparently she kicked them out of the house.

I heard Grandma talking to Mom on the phone about possibly pulling me from school for a while. I can’t be pulled from school, Hannah’s the only one keeping me sane right now. At Grandma’s house I’ll be totally isolated.

I’m losing my mind.

I swear to God, if they pull me from school, I’ll run away. Then they’ll have two missing kids to worry about. I’ll find you myself, and we can go home together. Maybe then I’ll finally be treated like a person.

I’m not giving up on you, and I’m not giving up on myself.

With love, your sister,

- Charlie

~~~

Dear Adam,

The police found some of your hair stuck in a tree. When I learned that from Hannah, I just so happened to get pulled from school that afternoon.

I’m doing it. I’m sneaking out tonight. I know you’re out there.

I can’t write anymore, I have to get packing.

I’ll see you soon, and then we’ll both be okay.

With love, your sister,

- Charlie

Please be okay.

~~~

Dear Mom,

If you’re reading this, it means Grandma realized that she didn’t know where I was, and found an envelope on my bed.

It’s okay, I wasn’t kidnapped, I ran away. I’m going to find Adam. Please don’t try to find me, I’ll come home when I can bring Adam home too, and he can tell me everything that happened himself.

I’ve packed food and water and a first-aid kit, I have money, I have a whistle and a knife, I’ll be okay. No need to try and track my location, I left my phone on Grandma’s kitchen table.

I didn’t tell anybody where I’m going, so there’s no need to ask around. Or do, I don’t care. You don’t seem to care about my feelings anyway, why start now?

I will find my big brother and bring him home. Then you can ground me until I’m thirty, but at least Adam will be home with me.

I love you, Mama. Adam and I will see you soon.

With love, your daughter,

- Charlie

[love-toxin]

Ellie i want astarion to fuck my mouth

im SO sorry queen i had to make the meow meow a lil emotionally vulnerable while im at it pls forgive me 🐸

(cws: gn!reader, vampire fuckery, bg3 spoilers, oral (m! receiving), teasing, possibly ooc astarion bc im only starting act 2 LOL, jealousy sex, deepthroating, a touch of feral/rough sex, facefucking, astarion is so in love it makes him look stupid <3)

word count: 3.9k

Once again, an evening spent with your mind somewhere else is interrupted by something you weren't expecting. The fire gleams from the pit and washes warmth across your face, a glow cast over your skin as you sit with your fingers white-knuckling a cold mug. Your companions are off on their own save for Scratch, who despite being a bit furrier than the tavern's normal patrons sleeps quietly at your feet. It barely took any convincing to let him in considering the rather stellar reputation you've earned yourselves–not to mention you're sharing a spot around the hearth with a couple frizzy-haired barbarians and a Tabaxi bard strumming out a tune on her lute. All seems peaceful, the noise just relaxed enough that you can let your mind wander about all manner of things. Ponder all sorts of worries you have yet to deal with on your adventure.

But it seems you're destined for an interruption. The back of your neck prickles from nowhere, a chill slithering coldly down your spine…from the corner of your eye you spot him, his pale hand vanishing behind a door on the second floor of the inn.

He's watching you. That's your cue, his methods of distraction always seeming so trivial and out of the way–he could always just come over and tap you on the shoulder. But Astarion likes the chase and isn't much of a fan of sincerity, so it's only natural for you to pass your half-empty mug off to one of the barbarians, get a bumbled shout of gratitude and a slap on the back, and slip away from the night's bustle of the tavern to thump your way up the winding stairs. All four of the rooms have been rented out by you and your party but one will sit empty tonight–aside from your gear, you're fairly certain your room will be unoccupied as you find other sleeping arrangements.

Tap tap. Just in case there's danger looming too close to comfort, you and your partner have a particular signal. Just as your knuckles come away from the door the tapping echoes back, tap tap, and you smother a grin as your fist closes around the knob for you to step inside.

The oak door thuds behind you at once and clicks softly as the latch falls in place. Nothing but the ire of a god or a drunken ogre could interrupt you now….but there's not much to interrupt if there's only one of you here, and as your eyes sweep the simple room you don't spot hide nor hair of your darling creature of the night. You've got a teasing remark on the tip of your tongue, ready to let loose-

"Don't. Move."

-But before you can even take a breath, there's a blade's edge digging into your throat and a cold, lean body pressed up against your backside. Effectively caught between a rock and a hard place. Prey. Astarion's whispered commands, however deep and punctuated they are, only send shivers of delight through you rather than true fear–and you find yourself struck with a dumb grin, not at all immune to the soft touch of his lips as they graze your tender neck from behind. He's got his arm pulled so snug around your waist it feels more like the grasp of a lover than a robbery, but that's because it is.

"Light on valuables, huh?" You tease over your shoulder, your hands braced against his arm as it holds the knife so dangerously close to your pulse point.

"You aren't. Show me what you've got, or I'll look myself." He murmurs back, breath cool as it puffs shallowly against your skin. It's somehow sweet when he tries to be so hard-to-get with you–maybe, you wonder, he doesn't yet realize how attached you are to him despite all you've been through already. Enough that you don't feel the bite of harsh, real danger in your peripheral, which sooner leads him to loosen his grip and push you forward with a palm on the base of your spine–all while tugging the knife out of the way, of course. If you asked him, he'd say it's because it would be a waste to spill such divine blood all over the ground.

As you turn yourself around to face him, you come eye-to-eye with the glaring tip of the knife yet again. Astarion is half-dressed, a bit disheveled, looking as though he's on the cusp of needing a drink again. Those carmine-coloured eyes echo some deep, violent desperation, one that shakes his voice as he commands you with total sincerity to strip.

"Will you join me?" You ask, your voice tinged with adoring hope. It irritates him, hope. Usually, at least. Usually it doesn't rub him as wrong when you're the one with hope in your heart, but evidently tonight is different if his scoff is anything to go by.

"That depends." His gaze flits away as he worries his lower lip between his teeth, not as careful about nicking it with his fangs as he usually is. Something surely must be wrong if he's acting so strange, especially since nothing has happened lately that's seemed to upset him…at least not that he's told you. It could be something else entirely, or something you don't have any idea about. Once he meets your eyes again, the hand he's gripping the dagger in lowers slowly. It was just a prop, after all–never a real threat. "...So long as you don't forget who you pledged your love to. Me. I won't stand for all this…this nonsense I've seen of late."

You cock your head in reply with a raised brow, questioning and curious of what on earth he could be referring to. Astarion rolls his eyes but it's most assuredly a gesture to mask how weak your sincerity makes him, your honesty painfully boring but, at the same time, endlessly endearing. With a sigh he tosses the knife aside in an arc, the handle flipping over blade for it to fall perfectly on the tip, sunk half an inch into the table by the bed. He's got his attention locked on it for long enough that the shuffling of fabric is what turns his head back towards you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips on instinct as he watches your clothing slip off your positively tantalizing figure.

"We're gonna have to pay for that, you know." Whatever you're saying goes right through both ears, the way your giggles shake your shoulders being all that he can focus on right now. He can barely tear his eyes away once you've wiggled out of your bottoms, and you're swift to remind him of his stare when you cheekily throw the travel-worn trousers in his direction. But all he does is grab a handful of them and press them to his face, not soaking in the scent as much as the undeniable warmth from just coming off your legs. They're only an introduction, however. They're tossed right back at you without pause, and fall to the floor in a heap that Astarion carelessly steps over to get to you. To get closer. He can never really get close enough, ever.

Even an inch away from you, though, your love does nothing to close that last shred of distance between you. Where he was eager to touch you just a few minutes ago, now he keeps his hands down like he's nervous about grazing you with just his fingertips. But despite that you can clearly see how he keeps eyeing your lips, so if he won't meet you the rest of the way, you simply have to do it for him. A quick peck on the chin is too much yet not enough–he endures a noticeable quiver through his body that he tries to stifle, but he can't resist raising a hand to your neck and tilting your head higher, just enough that you won't miss this time when he plants his mouth on yours. Deeper this time, much deeper, with his tongue making an appearance to slither from a cold embrace to your unbearably hot one.

You'd love nothing more than to take it further right here, right now, but there's something stopping Astarion that you'd like to get to the bottom of. Just as he's getting a little lost in your kiss, his eyes shut and fangs scraping at your delicate tongue as it moves with his, you break it off with a warm hand pressed to his chest and bring him back to your unspoken question.

"Azzy, what's wrong?"

"Don't call me that," He snaps back suddenly, brow furrowed in immediate annoyance. He doesn't move away though–clearly you're a bit too enticing for him to rethink the embrace he has you in, nor the fact that you're bare and warm for nobody else but him. "So childish. Or did you simply forget my name already?"

"I could never forget you. Now tell me what's wrong, Az. You're acting weird."

This time, he just shoots you a glare that could kill you on the spot. It's damning, his fury terrifying enough written so plainly on his face….but it also stirs up something within you that won't be sated by words alone.

"Last time, darling. I'm warning you. And it's nothing. Just…" A shake of his head sends his perfect curls flying about, each one falling back into place more perfectly than he's coming across right now. "...I wish you had been around when I was alive. That's all."

"What do you mean?"

"The others are all…alive. Breathing. Warm. Some of them look at you like–like you aren't with me. Like they could sweep you off your feet without even a thought." He says it with so much defeat in his tone, so gently with so soft an edge that you almost can't hear it with the muffled sounds of the tavern under your feet. It's rare to hear him sound so…sad. It's a bit odd to think, but he often comes off younger than he is when he speaks this way. "Maybe, if…if I was with you, then…" He huffs, flinching away from your hand as it grazes his cheek. Yet, within a moment, he's turning back and nuzzling his face into your palm like he can't get enough, his hand coming up to brace your delicate wrist as if he's afraid you really will pull away from him. "...If I was with you, maybe I would never be what I am now."

"But I like who you are now." You insist, the smile slowly returning as it creases the edges of your lips. "I love you, Astarion. I mean it, I always will. Forever."

"Forever is a very long time, my sweet." You shoot him that naive look like you don't really get the gravity of what you're saying. You don't, on second thought–you haven't suffered through two immortal centuries like he has. "...Fine. You love me? Prove it, then."

His tone grows dark, as does the once-vibrant colour in his eyes. Something swirls about behind them like a shadow in the water of a blood-red lake.

"On your knees."

Huh?

"I said," The air grows hot around you despite the chill of his body on yours, a purr rising in the back of his throat as he pushes very gently on your shoulder. "Get on your knees."

And with his command hanging in the air, you follow so obediently you give him a pleasing shiver down the length of his spine and back. You sink down to the floor in one long, fluid motion, barely breaking eye contact as you brace yourself against his pale thighs. They don't even need your touch to come undressed, his pants falling with his thumbs hooked into the waist and tugged down just as easily as you did. He wastes no time in stepping out of them and kicking them away, but he doesn't really have the option to when you're already mesmerized by the image of what lies beneath–once the tip of his flushed, heavy cock sprung free of catching on his belt, you had your gaze glued to it like it's the first time you've ever laid eyes on him.

"I'll never get tired of this view." He smirks, all pompous and smug with no idea of the test of self-control he's about to face. Because although you may be the one beneath him, where you belong in this scenario, the haze over your eyes as you stare openly should be enough of a tell that your mouth is already watering. Astarion's gentle humming hits your ears as he takes himself in hand, tugging out a few slow strokes for your entertainment before he settles on holding it by the base, and guides it down towards your lips. He's so pale everywhere else that the ruddiness of the rubbery head is almost uncanny, but the pale pink blush that spreads throughout gives his flesh such a delicate look that you can't help but dive right in.

One slow, tentative lick up the tip, and Astarion has it written all over his face–he isn't going to be finished until you've got some bruises, that's for sure. You try another and he finally gets a grip on your head, fingers woven through your hair to keep you steady and to calm his trembling hands. Those soft kitten licks are always his weakness, each one a bit braver and deeper but peppered with hot little kisses in between. You press them all down the shaft and back, smearing the stiff flesh with spit and giving him a tongue bath that feels like it never ends–not that he wants it to, though. Those shaky breaths overhead are a telltale sign otherwise.

"More," He purrs, half-needy and half-demanding in the same breath. You kiss over his knuckles that still grip the base of his shaft, and can't help but smile up at him as he quietly taps the head against your lips, tap tap. Twice he knocks and begs silently for entry, and soon he releases a sigh from the depths of his belly as you swallow him down and welcome him in. "Show me what I deserve."

Astarion certainly doesn't need to tell you twice, he barely needs to tell you once. As soon as he's settled snugly where he belongs, he lets go of the grasp he had and watches in awe as you swallow. Every inch he thinks you can't take more of disappears inside your mouth, slid further and further until he starts to curve into the bend of your throat and loses the last vestiges of his willpower. All his strength saps into you like his teeth on your flesh–where he stole your power in your blood, you take it back just as easily with a flick of your tongue and the incessant squeeze of your throat.

"Getting impatient? Already? We've only just begun, love." You can feel the heat of his eyes shift as they turn further downward, no clothing able to serve as a boundary to hide the needy grind of your thighs together as you kneel. The reaction of your body to his rather lewd commentary doesn't help you either, and in one sweep of his gaze over your exposed figure he can see everything you're thinking like it's written across your skin in ink. "Don't stop rubbing those legs together. Show me just how badly you want me, darling."

It might be more embarrassing if you didn't know Astarion had seen it all already, and that he would most definitely be seeing much more of everything below in the future. The fact that you trust him with those fangs around all your sensitive areas is touching…and it also means he trusts you enough to be a little rougher when you're returning the favour. You've degraded yourself to a humiliating extent by being with him, by getting down on your knees for him no less, and with him wrapped so tight and cozy in your throat he's got a look like he's ready to make himself at home.

With a moan slipped in between the pauses, your beloved curls his thumbs down behind the shell of each ear, his palms laid flat against your temples so he won't let go so easily. The drawing back is easy, his cock parting less and less of the space inside until he's barely brought it back to the tip–but just as you're getting in a taste of his salty sweat and bitterly rich arousal as it sits heavy on your tongue, Astarion flashes you a wink and braces your face for impact as he thrusts back in. Your heat coddles every inch of him and shakes loose a string of raspy moans from his chest, while the scrape of your nails against his thighs and your soft, squirming tongue pressed flat against his girth only has him burning hotter. The first time is a tight fit for sure, but as he enters into a steady rhythm of pulling out and gliding past your sweet, stretched lips, each buck of his hips grows smoother and it gets easier with time. Sooner than either of you expected, you barely have to focus at all–you can sit nicely and let your attention wander up to his lusty gaze, idly suckling at whatever he manages to stuff inside for as long as he's able to keep it there.

"I know it's on your mind already, but tell me I'm beautiful, my sweet." Astarion croons like a cat to a mouse, speaking so sweetly like he isn't still ravaging the most tender areas of your throat, and fucking away any possibility of you speaking properly for the next little while. And he shows no signs of stopping, your squeaky, muffled moans as he grinds the heft of his cock against your tongue too delicious for him to think about it. But eventually he does, managing somehow to pry himself off of your beautiful, fucked-out, spit-slicked face to give you a chance. "Go on. Speak."

"Please," You croak, head hazy and your face dark with warmth. "You're so beautiful, Astarion, please. I love you."

"Will you love me forever?" You nod, the answer barely a hair's breadth from your swollen lips.

"For eternity."

Astarion takes a moment, a pause that lasts a lifetime or more, but the genuine joy that starts to spread across his smile could keep you alive for a century of centuries. It's not one you see often or ever see, but that makes it just as precious as any gold or treasure you might come across in your lifetime.

"...Eternity it is then, darling." One of those cold hands moves to stroke your hair, his touch fleeting yet his grip tight with desire as you lean in for a kiss–not on his lips, but rather the tip of his dick, of which is absolutely soaked by your influence…and of his readiness for the end, as you can see by the veins pulsing up the sides and the whole length twitching with anticipation. You can feel those little spasms through your tongue as it meets his slit, Astarion's chest heaving and fangs glinting as he gives in to the urges to nestle himself back inside. As much as he wants a proper kiss, he'll get one as soon as those frantic hips slow completely instead of picking up speed as he meets your delectable heat again. He could be using you for his pleasure alone for another two hundred years, and in your endless desire to please him you're not sure you'd oppose it–you know for a fact that once the centuries had passed, Astarion would be spending twice as long with his head down between your legs.

"One day, I'll tear that wretch of a vampire's heart out through his stomach," Astarion growls out of nowhere, suddenly sounding completely feral in the span of a moment. The ferocity with which he's fighting the tightness of your throat increases too, thought not much more than he already was–if you touched your neck you would feel the bulge of him sunk so deep he can see it, the rise and fall of that soft flesh tightening the knot in the pit of his belly. "-And we won't ever spend a day apart. I swear."

All you can do is ride with the pace he's offering, your throat cinching tight like a coinpurse the more he rams it with the full strength of his hips, nails digging into your scalp as he batters you rabidly without ever losing his grip. Soon, his query of "Ready, darling?" barely meets your ears, your attempt at not choking on each thrust and somehow sucking in a breath here and there too important for your survival.

And in a matter of moments, you're granted reprieve while also left hollow and empty at the same time, Astarion's fist yanking you back by the hair as he sucks in a huge, deep breath into his lungs. The twist of his other hand stroking himself down to the last few beats comes close to your face, your soft gasps for air the perfect background for your name to trickle out of Astarion's mouth–and with such a deep moan it rattles you through your blood down to your bones, you kneel and wait eagerly as your partner lets everything go for you. His balls tighten and squeeze as the pressure of that knot inside him snaps, and he watches with a devoted gleam in his eyes as you wear every rope of pearly cum he milks out for you in that orgasm that shakes him to the core.

"Look at that," He murmurs, voice nearly as wrecked and raspy as yours will be by tomorrow. "Painted like a canvas fit for the gods. Gorgeous."

If he could, he would save this image of you in a frame forever; your sweet, smiling face marred with the essence of him, your hair pulled back by his sweaty fingers but your eyes filled with so much love. Love, genuine and sincere, your giggles loopy and tired as you come down from the high, yet without any post-sex remorse that he fears each and every time you climb into his bed with him. It stays the same when he cleans you off and persists even once you kiss him, knees so wobbly you fall back into the sheets with the slightest push. You won't ever let him free, kiss after kiss pressed to his cold mouth as he climbs over you. Your ankles hook over his waist before he knows it, your smile desperate to be wiped off your face again once he chases that heat for the second, third, fourth, fifth, tenth time, until the sun rises and you're reminded of the downsides of entertaining a lover who never needs rest.

You might tell him you love him again when morning comes, despite the exhaustion tugging down your eyelids and the sweat pouring down your aching back. You probably will, knowing how naive and sincere you tend to be even when you shouldn't. Even so, this time…Astarion might not be able to pretend he doesn't feel exactly the same way.

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

I decided to write a little something that was a little...self indulgent~

Should you want more of my own personal desires in your writing, just request the House Special in your message~

Title: Mostro’s New Toy

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, m!Reader

Contains: dark themes(dubcon, kidnapping), contractual agreement, bondage, blindfolds, mouth covering/gag, free use kink

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

It had been a week since your end of the bargain was fulfilled. Though you had no magic for payment, Azul had stated he would figure something out and not to worry about it, so after meeting your end of the deal, you were starting to get fidgety when a week had passed and yet nothing had happened yet.

You were rushing to your next class, cursing yourself for being late because of Grim’s antics and for looking away from him for a moment. You started to cut across the courtyard when an arm grabbed you from the bushes. You were about to scream for help when a white gloved hand silenced you. More specifically, it was the duct tape under the hand that kept you quiet, allowing your attacker to hold you firmly in two arms.

“Eaaasy, Shrimpy. No need to get loud~”

The nickname and voice was more than enough to at least solve the question of who was doing this. You muffled out his name, any struggling soon subsiding knowing you weren’t in any actual danger.

Though you couldn’t see, Floyd was giving a dopey grin. “Just here collecting some debt. Azul’s order’s. Time to pay up~”

Retrieving a bottle from his pocket, he shattered it against the ground, pieces flying as smoke surrounded you two, teleporting you back to Octavinelle.

———

Floyd stood with you still in his arms, the two of you now present in front of the Mostro’s manager, Azul in his VIP room. Jade stood beside him, as though ready to act if necessary.

“Terribly sorry for the scare,” Azul started, speaking from behind interlocked fingers, “but you see I’ve figured out the payment I desire from you.”

You tried to speak, but the tape remained firmly in place, only muffling your speech. Azul merely carried on, as if you weren’t trying to object.

“Oh no need to worry about it! Truly, this is the best thing you could give! Jade? If you’d please.”

“Yes, sir.” Jade began to step over to Floyd, the two of them giving the other a look that seemed to be one that only twins could understand. He opened his jacket, retrieving a bundle of deep green rope that was concealed in an inner pocket. Floyd spun you around, holding onto your shoulders and looking down at you with a threatening gaze and speaking in a serious, menacing tone.

“I’d stay still if I were you, unless you want to be squeezed.” It was that look that screamed “try it”. If you moved, be it trying to run off or even just a muscle, you knew it wouldn’t end well. Jade then grabbed your arms, pressing your wrists together and wrapping the surprisingly soft rope around them. He tied them off in a way that didn’t hurt but kept your wrists firmly together, effectively now leaving you at the mercy of the tweels before you.

“I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, but I’ll tell you anyway, out of the kindness of my heart.” As Azul spoke, a strip of cloth covered your eyes. You were now blind, mute, and unable to fend for yourself in anyway. “I’ve decided your body will be perfect payment. I’ll have you situated in a way where patrons can come in, and use you the way they see fit. The blindfold is for confidentiality, of course, and the tape? Well that’s just for show. If they want to take it off they can~”

You’d be lying if you tried to object. The idea sent a heat straight to your groin, and you could feel a pressure at the zipper of your jeans as you hummed softly.

The brothers were already working on you, leading you into a new spot before pushing you down to your knees. The positioned you like a doll, spreading your legs open before unbuttoning your pants to reveal a partially hard, boxer covered phallus.

“Heeeeeyyy~ Little Shrimpy here is already enjoying himself~ You get off to the idea of this~?”

Hearing it out loud, especially from Floyd, only embarrassed you, and you shook your head to deny it.

“Such a thing is hard to deny when the evidence is right there, (y/n).” Jade’s voice sounded like velvet, smooth and calm. “It’s clear you’re quite aroused by this. There is no shame in admitting it.”

You shook your head with a small “mm-mm”, denying it, but deep down, you knew that lie wouldn’t last long, as Jade was right.

“Now boys,” Azul’s footsteps thudded against your ears as you heard him walk over. “I think we should find out if our new attraction is ready for the guests. What do you think?”

“Oh I get first dibs on Shrimpy?! I wanna test him out!” Floyd sounded all too excited by the idea, and you were already wondering what someone like him would do.

“Mmmm!” You let out an uncontrollable whine, but it went ignored.

“Oh please, Floyd. You’ll ruin our new toy before he even has a chance.” A small laugh laced Jade’s voice. “What if we tested him out together?”

“Wonderful idea!” Azul was more than willing to allow such a thing, his footsteps starting to soften as he stepped to the door. “I’ll be back in an hour. Try not to break our new plaything before I get back.”

“Yes, sir./Yeah, boss!”

The door opened and closed, and you were now alone with the brothers. Thought you couldn’t see them, you could feel their predatory gazes on you before their hands made first contact.

This…will be exciting…~ ❤️

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 7

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

"Look on the bright side: it could have been a glass of Cuba Libre or red wine... Mojito stains so much less!"

Alessia’s comment made me smile. I was now in her room, curled up in her arms, seeking comfort to erase the memory of that disastrous evening.

“What a nightmare. Why did he drink so much? He was fine an hour before!”

“He ran into an old friend, and I’m sure they reminisced over countless cocktails.”

She was laughing now, that laugh I loved so much.

“You know it’s not funny for me! Tomorrow, well technically today since it’s already 2 a.m., I’m supposed to meet her. I’ll have to apologize, grovel even, and just thinking about it makes me want to cry!”

I pouted. She leaned in, kissed me, and set about making me forget that night in her own way.

The next morning, I arrived at the office at 10 a.m. My morning mission was simple: tidying up. The second was dealing with my hangover and relentless headache. Our two interns were already at work, and Alexia arrived shortly after, with pastries and the newspaper under her arm.

“Good morning, you! I brought breakfast! We’re in the local paper!” she announced cheerfully.

I’d already seen the article, complete with a photo of us with Lucy. The final paragraph mentioned the incident but omitted any details about the argument or the mojito.

“Yeah, and about the ‘incident’... She’s going to be thrilled,” I said sarcastically.

“Do you think she’s mad at us?”

“Oh, of course not. I’m sure she loved being called names with a mojito splashed in her face!” I replied, dripping with irony.

“I mean, it was Philippe who messed up. I spoke to him this morning, and he was really embarrassed. He couldn’t reach you…”

“I have no desire to speak with him today! Seriously! I’m supposed to see her soon. I already sent her a huge apology email, tried calling—no answer. Her only response was an email, no greeting or anything: ‘The meeting stands.’ So, Philippe’s regrets are the least of my worries!” I replied, exasperated.

I was more nervous than ever about the meeting tonight. Alexia tried to lighten the mood by teasing me.

“Well, Miss Cocktail Bar Idea, this one’s on you! Own it!” she said, winking.

“Oh, and the whole idea of having the Mayor come was yours! And yet, it’s me who has to bear the consequences tonight!”

It was nearly 7:30 p.m., and I was running late. But since she was always late... I wore my dark sunglasses, still nursing my headache. The day felt endless: cleaning up, paperwork, and now this meeting. I just wanted it to be over. 

When I got near the house, of course, this time she was punctual, waiting by the door. I took a deep breath and plastered on my best smile. She watched me approach with a dark look, arms crossed, colder than ever—a far cry from how she’d been just 24 hours ago on the terrace. Back to square one. The dragon had returned. 

With my most convincing smile, I greeted her.

“Good evening.”

She responded icily, offering only a handshake. I had to address last night’s events now.

“Listen, about last night, I...”

“I don’t want to talk about it, or about your idiotic drunk friend, or about being publicly insulted and covered in mojito, or the fact that you didn’t warn me he’d be there, knowing how things stand between us.”

Her words came out in a torrent.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I probably should have warned you. But it wasn’t certain he’d be there, and besides, you see him regularly at city council meetings without any issues. Last night, the alcohol got the better of him. I know he’s truly sorry and...”

She cut me off again.

“Of course you should have warned me! You only cared about the publicity you’d get from my presence!”

I tried to keep my calm.

“Honestly, you were invited as a client, not as the Mayor. Yes, your being the Mayor brings journalists, but it’s not because…”

“Don’t patronize me! You’re a little manipulator who can’t even manage her drunk friends!”

I was boiling inside. Her eyes, so gentle yesterday, were now weapons piercing through me.

“Alright, I’d like to see the progress on the renovations now, if it’s not too much to ask!”

The rest of the meeting was filled with a heavy tension. She was critical, nitpicking everything and nothing—about the size of certain tiles, the wallpaper, the dimensions of specific rooms... I was tired, exhausted from lack of sleep, from this relentless headache, and from her constant jabs. I just wanted this endless day to be over. I stopped listening.

“Ona! Are you even listening to me?”

In a very polite, distant tone, I replied.

“Excuse me. I don’t think this is going to work anymore.”

She seemed taken aback by my reaction. I continued.

“I understand that after last night, you’re upset. But I think every time you see me, you’ll be reminded of all of this. We can’t keep working together. All the plans are done; I can pass the project on to a colleague I trust. She’s excellent. This won’t cost you anything, and I’ll even cover the new tiles as compensation.”

I said it matter-of-factly. Alexia would probably kill me. But I was at my limit. I was done with this back-and-forth, this constant game of tension and provocation. She looked utterly shocked. I pulled out a paper, offering it to her.

“Here’s her website so you can see her work. I’ll handle all the arrangements and the handover.”

“But I didn’t ask you to leave!”

Her brows were furrowed, concern showing for the first time.

“No, but honestly, that’s the message you’re sending with how you’re treating me. I’m not blaming you. I think you’d be more comfortable with someone else, and since Alexia isn’t available, I suggest this. I’ll get back to you this weekend; my colleague will call you shortly. The work will continue smoothly, no issues. Have a good evening, Madame Bronze.”

I turned to leave, but then I felt a firm grip on my right arm, pulling me back. 

“Don’t go, Ona. I want you to stay.”

Her expression had softened.

[highly-flammable]

IDK about y’all but I was having a quite a bit of fun watching Cami and Klaus antagonizing each other during 3x11 and 3x12. It was pretty hot. Of course a lot of it was stressful or heart-wrenching too, and I was kind of frustrated at the characters, but they were hot. Sorry, not sorry. Had the ship not had a bunch of loud and irrationally hateful antis, there would have been furniture-breaking angry makeup sex after that whole fiasco lol

And I swear some CK antis are way more pressed about the chess piece incident than Klaus ever was. Cami stealing the white oak might be a big deal and Klaus wasn’t wrong to be mad at her, but her headspace was still understandable. She rightly pointed out that the possibility of death that Klaus and his siblings only faced when there was white oak at play was what she had to face all day, everyday. And she used to think Klaus could protect her from anything in the world, but she got kidnapped while he was still in the city, and by the time he found her she had already been compelled to kill herself. She had to slit her own throat and die while he was right next to her, sleeping. If that wasn’t a bucket of ice water on the notion that he could protect her from everything and she wouldn’t have to do anything for herself, what would be?

She did take a hard line when she stole the chess piece, but before that, well-intentioned as Klaus was, he was repeatedly patronizing and antagonizing her. Bless him, he was trying to help. It was a lot coming from Klaus. But it wasn’t enough. He expected her to snap back into her perfectly rational fearless form after that kind of a traumatic event and intense metamorphosis, so that they could just get on with their lives. And the more she would act out, the more he would react instead of trying harder to de-escalate the situation. He was right that she shouldn’t have the dark objects, but while Hayley’s mentality was that Cami shouldn’t have them because she might wrongly use them, Klaus himself was thinking more in the vein of “Cami’s gonna go and be reckless and get herself killed so I must hold her back”. My girl deserved two days of getting to throw a tantrum and others properly trying to calm her down, okay? She had been doing that for them for two years.

To be fair, I think it’s quite difficult to counsel people who you consider to be wise and who you are used to being counselled by. We see Klaus and Hayley both struggle with this. It ultimately took Vincent to help her out because he had the necessary emotional tools to do it, which the others lacked.

Anyway, Klaus was more hurt at the fact that she couldn’t trust him to protect her and guide her. He wasn’t even that bothered after Aurora stole the chess piece, aside from the fact that Cami almost got killed. He was having a drink with Elijah and being sassy at the end of 3x12. He literally never even brought up that whole thing to Cami after 3x12. In 3x15 he went to her and tried to make peace, and did not mention that issue once. Fortunately Klaus’ character had more sense than the average anti and knew he couldn’t blame everything on Cami, like taking the chess piece was her mistake but Aurora’s doings were not her fault, the same way Aurora kidnapping Cami, and getting her to drink vampire blood and slit her own throat, all due to her possessiveness over Klaus, were not Klaus’ fault.

[starry-blue-echoes]

I found this old snippet 90% finished in my drafts so W O E, 2k words of Tonio being my favorite character and Mr.Giovanna slowly understanding that he is not in fact Giogio's father anymore <333

(also tw for implied/referenced child abuse since Giorno)

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

Tonio noticed the second the man approached Giorno’s table.

His customers knew better than to do so. They knew the boy was under his personal protection and it was best to steer clear. A greeting hello when the boy arrived, a brief exchange of conversation, an offered treat or trinket was of course allowed, but approaching his booth while Tonio was not present?

That was not common.

In fact, by the time Tonio made it out of the kitchen and to the dining area, the man had gathered quite a bit of attention from the other customers if the glances being cast his way were anything to go by.

The man was practically looming over Giorno’s booth, all but boxing the boy into his seat and talking in a low voice so as to not be overheard. Tonio couldn’t even see Giorno from his spot.

Tonio did not like this.

He did not like this one bit.

So plastering on his best Customer Service Smile, he approached.

“Excuse me sir,” he spoke up, keeping his voice light and pleasant. “My apologies, but at this establishment you must wait to be seated.”

The man turned to face him, not moving away from the booth and instead attempting to slide a softer, kinder mask over his features.

Hm.

It was sloppy, Tonio couldn't help but note. Sure the facial expressions were… passable, he supposed, but his body language was all wrong. Maybe spending so much time amongst the real dangers in Italy had made him a bit of a snob, but honestly this was laughable.

“Ah, you misunderstand sir, I’m not here to eat, though I have heard good things about this restaurant.” the man waved him off with what was supposed to be a lighthearted chuckle that only succeeded in feeling patronizing. “I’m here to pick up my son.”

“Oh?” Tonio responded with a slit tilt of the head, and a cold, cold feeling slipped into his gut. “You’re this boy’s father then? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Step father, technically.” Mr.Giovanna explained, the veiled insult sailing clear over his head. “His mother already had him when I stepped into the picture, but I see and love him as my own.”

His smile got tighter when he saw Giorno, kind, smart, shy Giorno who loved frogs and ladybugs and the color pink and listening to Tonio talk about recipes, flinch.

“I see.” was all he offered.

Tonio knew so little. So, so little. Part of him knew it was purposeful. That he was giving himself plausible deniability. An empty comfort.

But he knew enough. He’d always known enough. More than enough really.

And now it was looking him dead in the eyes and spitting in his face, daring him to lie down and take it.

“Well, it’s getting late. We’d best be getting back to the house before your mother starts dinner. Come along, Giorno, you’ve taken up enough of this man’s time.” 

How long has he been standing idly by as he’d seen Giorno hurt? 

How many times has he knowingly allowed Giorno to return to that sorry excuse of a family? 

How many times has he merely nursed his injuries instead of doing anything to stop them from happening in the first place?

Well no longer.

“Actually, sir.” he interrupted. “I have some…. concerns I’d like to speak with you about.”

The man froze before slowly turning toward him.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes and he not very subtly squared his shoulders to make himself look bigger.

“Oh?”

How funny. The man thought he was intimidating.

Tonio had done a bit of asking around about Giorno’s family when the boy hadn't been present. Nothing too nosey of course, just the standard gossip that was floating around which he generally got quite a lot of. 

And the results of his findings were quite fruitful.

Mr.Giovanna had a temper and was somewhat quick to anger, and he’d had a few dealings with the underworld, but that was as all. The man wasn't anyone important nor did he have any connections whatsoever.

He was just a simple, ordinary, powerless man.

A man who in the long run wouldn’t be able to do a thing to Tonio.

Tonio did not normally like taking advantage of his position, of the power he had at his fingertips. The near crippling fear of entrenching himself further and further into this world always had held him at bay, but in this moment he was more than willing to make an exception for this.

“Yes.” he made a slight show of stepping slightly closer to Mr.Giovanna and the booth seat, closer than was socially acceptable and a clear challenge to the man’s current proximity to Giorno. “And in all honesty, I’m not quite certain I feel comfortable allowing you to leave with this boy.”

“And for what reasons would that be?” Mr.Giovanna was openly glaring at him now, trying and failing to loom over a man who had a few centimeters on him.

“I notice things, Mr.Giovanna.” Tonio spoke, keeping his words clipped and flat lest his rage bubble over. “Giorno has been a patron in my restaurant for well over a year now, and I am not nearly as blind or stupid as you appear to think of me. I may be a chef, but I am also very familiar with the practices of medicine and the healing processes of the human body.”

Sometimes Tonio loathed this skill of his. Of seeing the way people moved and being able to pinpoint exactly what was wrong, of seeing the lethargy and careful movements and stiffness and knowing of the presence of bruises or cigarette burns or broken skin.

(In a bitterly comforting way, Giorno had always liked that part of him. Of their shared skill. He said it made him feel less alone and less strange)

Mr.Giovanna simply sneered at him. “And why exactly are you paying so much attention to little boys?”

His rage surged at the accusation, howling and throwing itself against the cage he’d locked it inside, only made worse by the man’s smugness as though he’d just won and Tonio would back down.

Oh how he longed for his butcher’s knives. They cut through skin and muscle like warm butter and would so easily make short work of the man before him.

“You know very well that is not what I’m talking about.” much to his dismay, his calm mask had begun to crack at the edges, his voice growing more tense and taught with every prolonged moment. This man was managing to slide through every crack of his carefully constructed walls in ways the most vile, loathsome mafioso couldn’t, and all with hardly more than a few words.

This needed to end soon. Before Tonio did something he would regret. For Giorno’s sake.

“I am not going to allow you to leave this establishment with this child unless you can offer me a reasonable explanation for why he comes here with bruises every single week, and that is final.” 

A lie of course, he wasn’t letting Giorno go anywhere with this pathetic excuse of a father, no matter what excuses he scrounged up.

“Well I don’t owe you shit.” he snapped back, forgoing excuses and even denial of the accusations completely. At the very least, it seemed Tonio was getting under Mr.Giovanna’s skin just as badly. “I am going to be taking my son and we are going to leave. Giorno, come here right n-” but as the man tried to move Tonio out of the way and make a grab for the boy, Tonio grabbed his arm in an ironclad grip.

The man froze, surprised either by the strength or by the audacity.

Tonio’s expression didn’t falter.

“I think it would be best for you to leave, sir.”

For a second all was calm.

And in the next, pure fury overtook the man’s face.

The punch was quick and powerful, and Tonio barely had a moment to realize what was happening before he had both hands on the booth table to support his weight with a blooming pain in his jaw. With one of his hands he hesitantly brought it up to test the area, but while it would undoubtedly bruise and was rather tender, nothing felt broken or severely damaged.

Tonio should have seen the punch coming, but alas, hindsight is 20/20. He partially expected a second blow…. but it never came.

In fact, Mr.Giovanna was being awfully quiet.

His grin which had temporarily been chased from his face found itself sliding back into place once more.

It seemed the man finally noticed. Now that their conversation had reached a small pausing point, it was likely that much more obvious, but Tonio still couldn’t help but internally chuckle at the man’s horrendous observation skills.

It was dead silent in the restaurant.

The clicking of silverware, the murmur of conversation, the footsteps of the waitstaff, all of it had vanished into thin air.

And as Tonio stood back up to his full height, one merely needed to glance around the room to see why.

Every single customer and staff member was staring at them.

And not one was happy.

Expressions ranged from murderous fury to offended disgust to cold disapproval. Weapons of all types were in hand: knives, firearms, utensils, even a few Stands had joined the fray.

Sometimes being neutral felt like a curse, but in this moment? In this moment Tonio had never felt freer.

Because everyone respected the rules inside Trattoria Trussardi.

And those who didn’t……

“You’ve broken the rules, Mr.Giovanna.” Tonio spoke, a grin still on his face. Only now he let the pleasantries fade away. Now, he let his grin stretch wide and manic, filled with teeth and not quite reaching his eyes.

To an outsider, it was downright predatory.

And Mr.Giovanna, finally realizing the lion’s den he had stumbled headfirst into, froze.

But Tonio did not care.

Not one bit.

He nudged the man to the side with the back of his hand, and didn’t even resist the urge to wipe it on his apron afterwards. He’d need to wash his hands later, wouldn’t want the food suffering from whatever filth that man possessed.

“Giorno,” he asked quietly, his body relaxing and growing soft at the bright, vibrant hope sparkling in the boy’s eyes. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

Giorno’s eyes widened, growing glossy and shiny yet not a single tear spilt.

“I would.” he said in a hushed whisper, as though the words would break if he was too rough with them, and in Tonio’s heart the only regret he felt was that he hadn’t done this sooner.

He gently grabbed Giorno’s hand to tug him away from the booth seat with as much gentleness as he could, leading him toward the back door that led to the stairs up to his apartment. Giorno’s hand was so small, yet it clung to Tonio’s like a lifeline.

He would call Doppio later tonight to help with the paperwork, of course after Giorno had eaten and gone to sleep. He had more than enough spare funds for the shopping trip that would be required tomorrow, but it would also likely be best to ask if there was anything Giorno wanted from his now-ex-parents house. He’d likely have to rearrange some furniture upstairs, Giorno would need his own room obviously, maybe cash in a favor or two to help, and of course possibly transferring schools which meant even more paperwork-

But that was tomorrow. Tonight, he got to look forward to a nice, calm dinner that for the first time since inviting Doppio in wouldn’t be alone. 

And just as he nudged Giorno through the door…

“Marco.”

“Yeah Boss?”

Tonio liked Marco. A good head on his shoulders, a competent host and waiter, had potential for a manager position, always called in ahead of time if gang work interfered with his schedule, and on the rare occasion things got out of hand he was good at regaining order.

“I’m temporarily waiving the ‘no violence’ rule.” Tonio said. “Make sure nobody breaks anything important and if things get too noisy, see to it that it’s moved elsewhere.”

Marco’s eyes lit up with an emotion he didn’t dare to place, but his face remained stoic. “‘Course, Boss.”

Tonio looked back to the restaurant, his eyes soft and smile warm in a way that did not match the manic and horrifying implication of his words in the slightest.

“You have 30 minutes. Try to keep the mess to a minimum.”

The future looked bright and Tonio felt happy.

[yanderecandystore]

Angst ᐛ. So imagine y/n is fully aware of what the beldam is about. I'm talking from the very begining but kept coming back since they felt so alone. And at some point y/n just walks in, plots their head in the beldam's chest, tearing up after a particularly bad day and is just like. "You know, I know what youre gonna ask... About the buttons. I know its just a way to eat me. But to be honest just hearing yoinsay 'i care about you' is making me consider the offer. Pathetic right?" Would the beldam make it a quick kill or would he not want to eat them anymore? Of course if you dont feel comfortable writing this thats fine too.

The reason why I always take too long to write anything about Male Beldam/Belsire, is because I always fear making something that people won't like especially since it's my most liked story-

But after rereading the story I realized it really isn't all that good X'D I feel like it could have been a lot better if I had put more time into it.

I'm sorry for taking so long to write this, but I really don't want to leave you guys hanging especially since I do really like the idea of a "twisted" ending sort of thing. Thank you for requesting this!

It's very short, but I hope I can talk more about it because I do wonder how Y/n will deal with this new life.

TW/Tags: Mentions of: Gore; death // Arachnophobia Warning // Scotomaphobia Warning (Reader is now blind) // Manipulation // Human flesh consumption (not from the Reader) // this is very short sorry // not proofread lmao (headaches) // Reader is very unresponsive to the things that happen around them.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

A peek at the keyhole [Yandere!Belsire x GN!Reader - A short Oneshot]

It was during dinner that you decided to seal the deal, he was acting strange… He was starving and you were sure of it. Which was funny because you never saw him eat, now that you think about it.

He doesn't understand where you got that knowledge of how he behaves or of what he consumes- Maybe it was just a lucky guess based on his desperate need to keep you "unaware", always giving a poorly disguised lie about himself.

Who was he? What was he? What did he want? He was your best friend, silly. He was your other friend, and all he wanted was to be with you.

Lies, lies, half truths. He was simply too shady for his own benefit, too obvious for his own good.

Or perhaps he really liked this back and forth between you two, after all- What proof did you have of anything? You couldn't trust his words, yes, but what else did you have to go with?

Just that sinking feeling in your stomach whenever he was near you, whenever he tapped his fingers impatiently because you were just oh so curious about him!

It was adorable, really. Infuriatingly adorable.

Because it didn't matter how much you knew about him, or his "real intentions" with you- You always came back for more. His words of reassurance coated with thick honey and distributed with a soft, calm tone of voice that was just as patronizing as it was endearing.

Treating you like royalty every time you came around and yet always keeping you at arm's length when it came to learning more about him, but did any of that even matter?

You were being taken care of, wasn't that enough? You had friends with you, an adoring handsome fella that wasn't shy at all about treating you more than a friend, if you wanted him to. There was clear favoritism and although common sense would have told you it was a massive red flag, you couldn't deny it was quite refreshing to be regarded with so much love.

The fun will never end, he said. It could go for as long as you wanted, forever even if you agreed to stay with just a little, tiny condition.

He didn't have to explain it in detail for you to instantly agree with him, you cling to him already aware of what your fate would be. A bad day was all he needed for you to accept it in a heartbeat? He could have done this a lot sooner than.

It was just you and him, standing in the kitchen as you hugged him, burying yourself in both a need for contact but also out of embarrassment- Shame of throwing yourself away to the unknown without second thought.

It took him by surprise at first, although not ideal he still met his goal sooner than he expected- Only a couple of nights spent with him and his creations, with only a few fabulous events in between.

Of course he couldn't go TOO wild with his attractions, after all you didn't need a spectacular show to be lured in, you just wanted to be heard and included.

" … Oh dear… Pathetic? Why? There's no reason to feel this way, you made the right choice… "

He wanted to still reassure you of your actions, but it was hard hiding the eagerness in his voice.

He held you tightly, cooing you gently despite your unisseanes and uncertainty.

It was mostly so you wouldn't see the illusion breaking, so you wouldn't hear the sounds of your other friends turning into dust… He simply couldn't keep them for much longer, and now he didn't need to.

It's a shame they couldn't warn you of your mistake sooner, it's a shame that everything he creates reflects his adoration to the people he lures in. If only they could warn you to not let him do this, that it wasn't really worth it.

" Come… It'll be quick, don't worry. " He led you with his hands, which were feeling colder by the minute, sharper than before. Thinner than before.

The lights of the house were starting to lower if not fully turn off behind you as you only focused on following him to his little workshop. You felt the stairs lose their solidity after lifting your feet, each step turning from wood to web quickly.

You were actively following him to your doom, you knew that, and as much as you wanted to you couldn't run away now.

He opened the door to the attic, the only thing that seemed intact in this empty and dark place- It was as if the house was starting to disappear the higher he went, and as you followed him there was no need to keep the rest of the house.

He was trying to be economical here, too many things to keep magically attached and realistic all the time- With no break for lunch.

The attic was the only thing that seemed actually real for you, stepping inside you felt the old floor creek. It was old, moldy, but somehow always well kept, as it was one of the only real things in this void he took care of.

It was his favorite place in the house.

" You can go sit on that chair over there, but if you would like to choose I have a great variety of colors and types for you to pick. " The voice that held warmth and youth to it was also disappearing and being replaced with a dry throat, a rougher tone and a lack of discernible emotion behind it.

You could only tell there was impatience by the constant tapping of his fingernails on his board as he showed you all the possible options.

Classic black like his? Baby blue? Chartreuse?? His constant tapping made you feel like a ticking clock taunting you to pick a color already-

You just pointed to the one color you liked most, hey, who wouldn't want to have their favorite color as their eye color? Although, it wasn't really eyes. Just buttons.

He hummed while giving you a soft smile.

" I'm glad you made a choice for me, I would have been too indecisive. Ah, but they're perfect for you..! You're going to make me so jealous, doll.." It was a joke, or maybe a compliment. It was hard to tell if his monotonous voice was out due to boredom, anger or was his voice like this in general.

Well, he didn't seem mad?? It was hard to understand him and to be honest you were getting very nervous. You sat down in the tall chair, its pastel colors did little to nothing to calm you down. Was this really a good idea?

" Are you ready?... It'll be quick I promise… Although… "

He grabbed your face, trying to be gentle as he inspected your panicking eyes.

You didn't understand what was going inside his head, you couldn't tell what he was planning to do and you weren't sure if his touch was starting to freak you out or sooth you.

" … It'll be fine. I'll make sure of it." He sighed before kissing your forehead, so you wouldn't forget he cared about you.

It was agonizing.

You don't know for how long you stayed out, but you remember your brain blacking out after he sewed the first one in.

You're not sure how you even survived through him stabbing your eyes with a needle- Hell, were you even alive at all?! You couldn't see anything, so either he successfully closed your eyes or you were dead.

No, you probably weren't dead yet, your headache just as bad as your entire face- Raising your hand slowly to touch your face you could feel your eyes covered by thick cloth, it was slightly wet.

Slightly touching and pushing like that caused you to feel immense pain, you immediately stopped- It was still fresh so of course it would hurt like hell.

You were sure that you felt the shape of the buttons underneath the cloth, however.

Your ears buzzed as you tried to regain some of your strength, as you tried to get out from your torture chair you forgot how tall it was- Missing a step and crashing down to the old attic floor with no one to help you.

Falling sure felt like falling! The floor sure felt like a crusty old floor! Yep, you weren't dead.

Your head was aching so badly you weren't sure if what you heard was real or not, but you were sure you heard some commotion coming from downstairs.

It was loud enough to muffle your little accident.

The voices below were followed by painful screaming that lasted for a few minutes after complete silence. A chilling sensation settled in as you started to wonder if the screams you heard felt familiar to you in any way.

You carefully started to get up, slowly you started to consider if you should go back to the tall chair or just make a run for it- But to where? You couldn't see anything!!

You considered taking the cloth off- But you didn't want to feel the pain that came from it. You needed to let it heal after all. Though, you doubted that you would be able to see anything with freaking BUTTONS in your eyes!!

Was it too late to regret your decision? It seemed like it.

You walked around trying to feel your way, where was the door again? You were sure you were on the right track… Your hand went from old wood to a nice clean carpet- Wait- Wasn't the house entirely destroyed? Shouldn't it be a spider web here?

Or, well, everywhere?

The fur of the carpet fooled you as you felt your hand squeeze something very soft that squeaked and scurried away from you. A rat.

" I'm sorry!- " You whispered to him, but he didn't appreciate your attempt at escaping, he squealed as he ran down stairs alerting his owner that you were awake.

Well, shit.

You would have screamed if you were able to see the heavy thing that came up the stairs in such a hurry, it didn't help that although you couldn't see him, the sound of metal hitting the walls and the floor made you highly concerned.

What the fuck was that-

" You shouldn't have left the room without telling me. " The same monotonous voice, although he didn't sound so exhausted like he did before- Not as hungry, you assumed.

" Come, let me help you. " You could hear him approach, as if he was wearing high heels it was hard to not hear him coming closer.

And you couldn't help but feel like distancing yourself further, his boney fingers didn't help you feel any more relaxed- They were sharp and cold, it felt like pure needles taking your hand and pulling you up.

" You need to rest for a little longer, doll. But you can't heal with an empty stomach right? " He guided you with his hand, you felt sick at the mention of food.

He helped you get down the stairs by holding you bride style, and you almost cried at the sensation of his hard and cold skin, you trembled at how those same needles would gently squeeze your skin-

One wrong move and they would tear your skin apart.

He helped you sit in a chair, you assumed you were at the kitchen's table by now.

Was this your end…? Was he really going to do this now??

…. No. He was just cooking something, presumably for you. It smelled of omelets and orange juice, it was simple but it was a very nice scent.

This kitchen reeked of blood, however. Instinctively you took your hands to cover your nose, and probably your mouth as well since you weren't sure if shouting would be a good idea right now. He hates loud noises.

" Don't worry about it, it was just a pesky guest who didn't take no for an answer! I'm sorry for the mess. I'll clean it up after you eat. " A more upbeat and sweet voice, the same one you were more accustomed with. Reassurance and comfort all tied with a smile you were more familiar with.

Approaching you with a plate in hand, and a juice glass in the other.

" Don't worry, I didn't put any of the nasty stuff for you. Just eggs and lots of love. The spoiled food is for me. " He kissed you on the cheek, it felt like being touched by porcelain.

He handed you the fork, but you weren't sure if you wanted to find out if he kept his word or not.

He killed someone here, didn't he? Those noises you heard when you were up in the attic plus the smell of iron coating every inch of this kitchen sure weren't just coincidence. He… He wouldn't force you to eat someone, would he?

Who was it?... Who was it..?!

Was he referring to the person as "spoiled food"?

" Doll. I told you to not worry. There's no meat on your plate, I'm a bit selfish when it comes to sharing food. I'm sorry but there's nothing left of them for you, if I knew you wanted to try I wouldn't have been so careless- "

" N-No, it's… It's fine! I'm just… I can't really see anything…" You tried to not sound as terrified of him as you were, heaven knows you shouldn't feed any monster your own fear, it's what they live on.

" …. Aw… You're blind, I'm so sorry! I forgot about that. " He started to laugh as he slapped his forehead about forgetting something so crucial, silly him!

You weren't sure if he was being honest about forgetting that, but you sure as hell knew by the way he snatched the fork from your hand and how he seemed to drag his chair closer to you that he was probably very excited to do this.

" Say, ah~! " You knew he was having fun when he pinched your cheek to make you open your mouth.

Well, yep, those were just eggs. I mean it was a very tasty omelet but that was it, the orange juice didn't taste any different. Probably a little too sweet, but that's it.

It was probably due to the pain you were feeling in the front of your entire face that made you very much NOT interested in eating, or maybe it was the dripping sound and the smell of blood. The thought that somehow you were sitting possibly next to a murder scene, and/or a body, and the murderer was feeding you, made you very unease.

" Try to not think too much about it, it's just the way things will be for now… Isn't it so much better this way too? We will be able to spend so much time together and I just need you to stay in the attic whenever we have "guests" over. Do you understand me? "

" With just a little bit of magic I'm about to make the house more comfortable for you, to cook you meals endlessly and I can even make you a few more outfits. I'll be sure to make the house more appropriate for a human like you. "

He petted your head after you finished the plate, kissing your forehead and letting the dishes in the sink.

" Now, let me help you get up, we'll need to give you a bath and put you in more comfortable clothes, and then we can lay down. I'm sure you're still very tired after our little surgery. "

He helped you get up and walked you towards the bathroom… You couldn't help but feel worried about what you were doing.

Wasn't this all you ever wanted? To be adored by someone who treats you so well? Didn't you feel glad you accepted his offer?

Were you a bad person for wanting this?

Well, you didn't want THIS as in- Him eating people- All you wanted was to be with him for longer…

Why did you feel really scared whenever he touched with the same gentleness but none of the softness his skin used to have? You knew running wouldn't be a good idea since you couldn't see anything, and you didn't know the layout of the house well enough to memorize where the little door was...

Right?

" You're so stiff, my love! Are you scared of walking around your own house? I promise I kept everything intact, it's my house as well you know… And besides I'll always be here to guide you while you still recover. " You felt him nuzzle his hand against your neck, cold, hard. You wondered how much he changed now that he didn't need to pretend to look a certain way for you.

Maybe it was best to not know.

" … You're so silent right now, it almost feels like I have been running my mouth for hours! I didn't know you were such a silent type. " He teased, while kissing the back of your neck gently.

It was probably your lack of spatial awareness, but he somehow seemed a lot taller- As if it took some effort to lower himself down just to kiss you.

" My head… it hurts so much.."

" Aw, I know, love, I know. It'll take a while for you to feel better but it'll be so worth it… I'll help you learn new things, like how to feel the vibrations in my web, it'll help you "see" better. Or how to read braille, or how to walk around the house carefully, or how to tell someone is planning on running away during a conversation. "

He poked the sides of your stomach, an action that was supposed to be just couple's teasing but was actually quite terrifying and painful considering how sharp his fingers were.

" You couldn't be any less obvious love. I'm sorry if I scared you, I couldn't resist. " And yet he didn't sound irritated or annoyed, it could be that he was just pretending to not care… But he sounded more amused than anything.

" I'm just teasing you, doll! Come on, don't look like that, I'm just in a good mood! You know I can't stay annoyed at you. Let's hurry up and get you cleaned, alright? "

As he carefully started to shove you inside the bathroom you wondered if he didn't mess with something in your head alongside your eyes.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[roguishcat]

Conversations with a vampire - part 6/10

Story summary: A story told through a series of conversations between Astarion and child Tav, tracing the slow and steady progress of trust and friendship.

Chapter warnings: underage drinking, mentions of attempted sexual assault, self-blame, some canon compliant violence.

Chapter summary: Astarion's typical night is disrupted rather unexpectedly by Tav as she tries to deal with trauma in an unhealthy way.

Setting: Set before the events of the game.

Word count: 2.4k

A/N If you want to be on the tag list for this story or any others, feel free to send me a message or leave a comment.

The Flophouse was especially rowdy on this fine, warm night, if he said so himself. Patrons singing lewd songs and shouting, toasting whoever was paying for their drinks with much enthusiasm. The bar was already surrounded by a sea of drunks clamoring for attention as the bartender poured frothy ale expertly, maneuvering swiftly and swatting hands out of her way. The dim light of flickering candles and oil lamps, the distinctive odors of stale drink and greasy food, the tang of sweat, created an unmistakable atmosphere. It would be overwhelming to many, but not to him. These were his hunting grounds, and Astarion was more than familiar with the ebb and flow of bodies, the hushed conversations between the less-than-reputable types, the loud cheers and enthusiastic shouts of older men regaling their friends with stories from their youth.

Astarion quickly scanned the crowd, clocking in on a nervous tiefling clutching her friend’s elbow like a lifeline. She would do nicely.

“Hey everyone! Drink up! All drinks on me!”

He snapped his head to the side, in the direction of that unmistakable, annoying voice. And indeed, it was Tav at the bar, waving her arms over her head, drinking, and making a spectacle of herself. She looked like it wasn’t the first drink of the evening either, judging by the flush of her face and the slight wobble to her stance. Astarion knew that spawn could not realistically get headaches, but he was sure he could feel one coming on when he saw who was throwing the gold around and attracting too much attention to herself. He moved in her direction slowly but deliberately, dodging elbows and clammy hands.

“Astarion! Hey, it’s my friend!” she squealed in delight, almost falling in her haste to move towards him.

He steadied Tav, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Sorry everyone, this one is finished for the night.”

Ignoring the patrons’ protests and drunken threats, he half-coaxed half-dragged her out of the tavern. She didn’t put up too much of a fight, still clutching the bottle in her other hand as she followed him.

Pushing the door open, Astarion marched out into the back alley with Tav in tow, the girl stumbling gracelessly over the threshold.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” he hissed, putting his hands on his hips in a gesture somehow reminiscent of one made by a disappointed mother.

“Really? I don’t see you in a year and the first thing you do is scold me?” she giggled, taking another swig from the bottle. “Yuck, this is disgusting. Why do people even drink something so horrid? And damn, it’s chilly out here. Or maybe the room was just too hot?” She laughed between gulps.

If she found herself to be terribly amusing, he did not share the sentiment. Nor did he like to be stuck nannying her.

“Argh, sit down. You are cut off,” he grabbed the bottle and poured the wine out before she could grab it from him. “Wouldn’t want you to become a drunk, would we?”

“And why not? I’m already a little shit, a bitch, a bastard child. I think a drunk tops that list rather nicely! And anyway, don’t be such a grouch, I’m celebrating!” she plonked down beside an empty, overturned barrel, propping herself up against the wall.

“And what would that be?” Astarion sighed.

“Why, three nights ago I killed a man.”

She giggled again, but this time it sounded forced and a little manic.

Astarion waited for her to settle down before speaking. “I think I need a little more information than that.”

Tav exhaled with a kind of strangled, pained sound and seemed to visibly deflate after he spoke. She looked up at the starry sky, looking very pale in the moonlight. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the slight shaking of her fingers, goosebumps spread over her exposed arms. Her hair was cut off, uneven, as if someone hacked at it mindlessly. Come to think of it, this was the first time that Tav was not perfectly dressed and groomed. She was wearing a white sleeveless shirt, plain navy trousers and simple leather shoes rather than her usual finery. No wonder she did not stand out at the tavern.

“He is- was a regular at Sharess’ Caress. I saw him around before, sometimes outside in the street. I usually try to stay out of the way during the day, but occasionally I have to leave my room. I bumped into him once accidentally as I was leaving, apologized, and walked away. Since then, his eyes always followed me. He asked about me, was told that I don’t work there and that I am too young anyway.”

She paused, pulling her legs closer to her body, and resting her head on her knees. “I know it’s my fault. I could have asked a servant to bring me something, but I guess I just had to be independent, had to show I can do things for myself.”

She stopped for a moment and took a shuddering breath. “He followed me into the cellar. I just wanted to get something to eat without making anyone fuss. I mean, I am old enough to do some things for myself. And I- I didn’t hear him walking in behind me. The man swayed a little, as if he was drunk when he shut the door behind him. He didn’t smell drunk, though. Oh, no. When he pushed me against the shelves and tried to force my knees apart with his hand, his other hand squeezing my throat, he was very much sober.”

Tav licked her cracked lips and hugged herself. Astarion felt a little sick listening to her because he could guess where this was going. He was not sure if he wanted her to continue, but perhaps it was good for Tav to say this out loud. So, he pulled himself together and resolved to listen to what Tav had to say. If anything, this was his way of repaying her for standing up for him against the other spawn.

“I crashed into the boxes to my right,” she went on, “he loosened his grip. I- I saw a knife sticking out of the block of cheese and lunged for it. He pushed me down and tried to grab me again, but I kicked him in the face. I don’t think he expected this much resistance, wasn’t used to anyone struggling against him.”

“And then I was on top of him and I stabbed him, over, and over again,” her eyes were wide and she was breathing hard, looking forward but at nothing in particular. “I could hear someone screaming, didn’t realise that it was me. People came running, I was pulled away from the body. Someone forced the knife out of my hand. Then I screamed more and more, and I struggled and kicked. They made me drink something and then there was nothing.”

Her breathing was still labored, her short nails dug into her skin leaving crescent marks.

“When I woke up, I was back in my room. Breakfast and newspaper waiting at my bedside table. As if nothing had happened. If you are interested, the headline that day was ‘A wealthy merchant’s body found in the river mauled by an animal.’”

Astarion looked at Tav. She seemed so young, so fragile. It was difficult to believe that in a fight-of-flight scenario she chose fight. Who would have thought that Tav, the sweet, annoying, silly child that she was, was capable of defending herself against a much older and stronger assailant?

“There it is. I killed and got away with it. No consequences. No regrets. Because truth be told, if I could go back, I would have done exactly the same,” she said fiercely.

Astarion knew that she did what she had to do. She did what anyone with any sense would do. Yet, judging by the hollow, haunted look in her eyes, in spite of what she said, Tav did not look like a person who was certain that they had made the right decision.

Tav shook her head, as if trying chase away the lingering mental images. Astarion looked at her hair. The beautiful blonde hair that was ruined now.

“Ah, that’s my handywork,” she ran her fingers through the disaster that once were beautiful locks. “I am done with them dolling me up every day. No hair, no playing dress up, no reason for them to come into my room,” she said harshly.

“Well,” Astarion paused, choosing his next words carefully, “whilst this style is definitely a statement, I could neaten it up a little. Make it less obvious that you are not cut out for a career in hairdressing.”

“Okay,” she breathed out, “the scissors are in my bag. I kinda grabbed them and just shoved them in there before heading out.”

“Hoarder,” he joked weakly, taking the scissors out.

Astarion worked silently, being careful not to touch her any more than was required. It was quite surprising that she allowed him to do this at all. Then again, according to Tav they were friends.

 “I am never having sex, or getting married,” Tav said suddenly.

“I thought you were going to marry me. Tsk, so much for you keeping your promises.” He joked halfheartedly, but purposefully ignored the first part of what she said. There was no way he was discussing the birds and the bees with anyone.

Tav scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I dreamed of it when I was like twelve. I’m older now. And definitely not so naïve.”

She looked at him from underneath her long, light lashes. Astarion glowed under the moonlight, an ethereal being, beautiful and untouchable, unmarked by change and time. He was handsome, complicated and dangerous.

She didn’t want dangerous. She wanted simple and safe.

She must have said it out loud because he laughed, a sort of barking humorless laugh.

“My dear child, I promise you will find the silliest, richest oaf to marry. He will allow you everything, hang onto your every word, and count his lucky stars that you chose him.”

Astarion looked over his work. It looked much better than before, a kind of boyish pixie cut, which suited Tav, with her high cheekbones and large blue eyes. Her face was looking less and less childlike each time he saw her. It made him feel a little melancholy, seeing the inevitable changes and knowing that more were to come. 

“There we go, looking almost sophisticated,” Astarion handed her a pretty mirror lined with sparkly stones that he discovered in her bag as he rummaged about earlier.

“Thank you,” she exhaled, giving her reflection a quick glance before putting the mirror away. “I still look like crap, but have to admit, my hair looks good.”

“But of course, what else did you expect?” he scoffed. “My own hair is always impeccably styled.”

“That it is. Always just so. Really eye-catching,” she gave him a ghost of a smile.

Astarion sat down, folding his long legs under him. The two listened to the dissonance of sounds coming from the tavern, mixing with the noise coming from the streets. Life went on, their personal tragedies and struggles so unimportant, almost nothing in the grand scheme of things.

“Astarion, why do they do this to us?” Tav spoke softly, picking at the loose skin near one of her nails. She didn’t have to explicitly state who she was talking about. Astarion knew well enough who she was referring to.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said. “They have power, and we don’t. And those with power can do whatever the hell they want. You will do well to remember that.”

“I suppose you are right,” she scrunched her nose and scowled. “But it isn’t fair.”

“You silly thing, if this world was built on the shaky foundation of what is fair or not, it would have crumbled long ago. It is idiotic to think otherwise. Life is about seizing control and taking what you are owed by force. By rising so high that no one can reach you.”

“Perhaps,” she allowed, “but sometimes, when I am feeling particularly low, I wonder… Just wonder if my life would be different if they finally decided that I was useless enough that they could just toss me out. They, whoever they are, clearly don’t give a rat’s ass about me. So, maybe, just maybe… they will let me go.”

Astarion sincerely doubted that. He knew full well what it was like to be a plaything in fate’s hands. Masters did not just give up their slaves or toys. If they did not serve one purpose, there would always be another. But perhaps on some level Tav knew this too.

Astarion did not particularly enjoy this conversation, did not like the direction that his own thoughts could take, but he was somewhat grateful that at least she did not cry. He hated when someone cried around him. He did not have any emotional or mental capacity to deal with such displays.

“I hate it. I hate this ugly bitterness I feel. I worked so hard not to give in, not to accept the darkness that keeps calling to me. But it just keeps getting harder and harder,” Tav rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and yawned.

“Tsk, again with your cryptic remarks,” he clicked his tongue. “But if you must think of this at all, think of it as growing up, losing your naivete. But, unlike many, you haven’t lost your kind heart. That you should try to preserve. Gods know no one showed me any kindness before you came along with that healing potion.”

Astarion was not sure what compelled him to say this. Perhaps it was her honesty, the raw emotions. In a way, the similarity of their situations. Them not having any control over their lives, being tethered to places where they were neglected and abused. Yet, he almost immediately regretted saying the words. Luckily, Tav was asleep, having given in to her exhaustion. He was not even sure that she heard what he said. It didn’t matter though.

Astarion took an embroidered handkerchief out of his pocket, slipping it into her brocade bag. Rising, he lifted her up and held the lanky teen close to his chest.

Had she been so thin before? He wasn’t sure, didn’t really notice until now.

Time to take her home. Or at least the only place she could call home.

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

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