#test tag 28

[crimeronan]

my tests all came back basically normal 💕 i am no longer disabled. love and light

[roguishcat]

Augustarion Day 28 – DILF (MNDI)

It is not August and my being this incredibly late in posting this can hardly be called 'fashionably late'. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this humble, smutty offering as we get a glimpse into Astarion enjoying himself and having fun with his love!

Rating: 18+ (MNDI)

Pairing: Astarion x female Reader

Set in Act III

Tags: smut, piv sex, fingering, breeding kink, fluff, Astarion being a brat, Astarion in love and unapologetic about it.

One-shot, 3.5k words

❤️Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think! ❤️

Apparently drinking a stupid amount of alcohol with random strangers at taverns occasionally came with significant advantages. In your case, you won a bet and were granted a once in a lifetime opportunity - to see into your future.

You didn’t tell the others. Perhaps you were being cautious. Or perhaps you were being selfish. You were sure that they would want to see the aftermath of the fight against the Absolute. As you would, if anyone else came to you and claimed that there was such an opportunity.

But the odd creature, whoever they were, warned you that it would be unwise to see a significant event, lest you accidentally altered your actions in any way and that would affect a pivotal moment and alter your future in a potentially devastating way.

Therefore, you decided to keep your secret close to your chest for the time being, opting to see what would happen 10 years from now, hoping that you and the others would still be alive then.

So, taking a deep breath, you said the incantation and waited. You felt a warm breeze against your face and opened your eyes. You were at a beach. No, at the beach. The same beach where the Nautiloid crashed.

As soon as your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw Astarion in the distance, shirtless and standing in the sun. A sceptic would say that there was no way that this could be happening, that there was no way for this to be Astarion. That the possibility of him being out in the daytime and bathed in sunlight was impossible.

But you were certain that it was your vampire that was slowly, leasurely strolling in the midday sun. You felt it with every fibre of your being.

This was Astarion. Barefoot and shirtless, his eyes trained on something that you couldn’t quite see, the lines of his face soft.

You felt your eyes fill with tears at the wonderful sight. Did that mean that you would somehow figure out a way for him to walk in the sun? The possibility, and perhaps also the hangover, had you feeling a little dizzy.

“Dad! Look what I’ve found!”

You turned around and saw a little girl, five or six if you had to guess, sprinting towards Astarion as fast as her legs could carry her and then all but crashing into him.

Astarion turned fully to look at his daughter and you saw him holding a baby in his arms, all sweet little curls and toothless smile.

Your heart squeezed as you looked at the three. Astarion smiled and said something to his daughter as she held up her prize. You took a cautious step forward and then another, mesmerized and wanting to see more.

Then he looked up and you could swear that he was looking right at you. Astarion was even more handsome, if that was possible. Same lightly muscular frame, but he seemed to have gained a little weight. He seemed healthier and you swore there was some colour in his cheeks. Astarion looked content. Confident, relaxed, happy.

The man smirked and it made your heart flutter in your chest. It felt as if he wasn’t looking through you, but actually at you. Luckily, he seemed to be the only one paying any attention to you. The little girl was now attempting to climb up his leg and into his arms, hating that she was being ignored and being quite insistent about getting attention from her father. No paternity test needed, she definitely got Astarion's attitude.

“Sweetie, what did I tell you about climbing daddy like that?” you heard your own voice and snapped your head sharply in that direction.

“Not when he is holding my brother?”

“That’s right.”

And then you saw yourself approaching Astarion. You could not make out your face, but there was a definite roundness to your body and a waddle in your step. Did that mean you were pregnant?

Apparently this Astarion was a man on a mission to populate Faerûn with his progeny. He followed your line of sight and smirked, silver curls bouncing as he lifted his chin up and gave you a self-satisfied grin.

You felt yourself being pulled away, but he didn’t break eye contact. Before you disappeared, you could have sworn that you heard him say, “This isn’t a goodbye. But rather a see you later, darling.”

You woke up with a start in your shared bed, Astarion, your Astarion, rising as he felt the sudden movement.

“My dear, is everything alright?” he asked with concern, brushing a lock of your hair out of your face. “I found you passed out on the floor earlier. You had me worried.”

“Peachy!” you squeaked, pulling the blanket higher in an attempt to cover your face. “Why would you ask?” you laughed awkwardly. You have always been a terrible liar, you didn’t know why you even bothered.

“Oh, no reason. It’s just you can’t look me in the eye and your cheeks are flaming red. You can’t be embarrassed over getting plastered at the tavern. Out with it, did you have a naughty dream?” he trailed a hand down your thigh and squeezed. “And spare no details, I want to hear every gory, depraved thing that goes through your mind.”

“No. Nothing like that," you waved him off. "But it was lovely. And of course you were in it.”

“Oh, did I sweep you off your feet?”

You were not really sure how to explain it. Would he get annoyed that you were offered to see your future and chose to see something so inconsequential? But you didn’t want there to be any secrets between you.

“I sort of… saw our future,” you started, knowing that he would demand to know more.

“Come again?”

“In a nutshell, won a bet and got to see the future. Not much else to it. And I- I didn’t want to risk screwing anything up by seeing how the battle against the Absolute goes, so I just decided to see what will happen 10 years from now. I saw you. And our children and you…”

“Oh? And how do I look 10 years from now? Beautiful, I imagine.”

“You look so happy. And intoxicatingly handsome, of course,” you sighed dreamily, unable to quite let that image go.

“Well, I never thought that I would be jealous of myself, but I guess here we are,” Astarion chuckled and pushed you gently before crawling onto the bed. “Just means that I have to try much, much harder, if I am to keep up with competition.”

“So… you are okay about the children part?” you looked at him from underneath your lashes. “I thought you hated children, you complain about them enough,” you blushed as Astarion played with the ties of your nightgown, gradually loosening them as he twirled them around his dexterous fingers with a thoughtful look on his face.

“I complain about you taking in a stray after stray, yes. But being a father,” he paused a beat, “I never thought about it, admittedly. Not with the tadpole, constant fighting and near-death experiences being pretty much an everyday occurrence. But now that I am thinking about it… I wouldn’t mind it. With you, that is.”

You felt him pull at your underwear with his other hand, as he wiggled out of his own with impressive speed. Even when you were pressed for time in the past, you couldn’t remember ever seeing Astarion strip with such urgency.

“Wait! Now? As in, right now?” you panicked as it sunk in and his hands began their assault on your clothing. Your vampire seemed to have arrived at the conclusion that he would most enthusiastically start procreating as of this moment, and your sleepy self did not understand his intentions until he was literally on top of you.

“Yes,” he growled.

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Astarion!”

“Well, from what I heard of dhampirs, it is quite an undertaking that will require a rigorous routine. So, think of this as practice, us getting ready. And it’s not a race dear, it’s a marathon. One might say-”

You covered his mouth with your hand, because clearly Astarion was not done talking and him talking was usually just a way to distract you so you would drop your guard enough for him to pounce.

“But the others- hey!”

You felt him nip at your hand and quickly withdrew.

“Are not here and will not come back for a while, we have all the privacy we need. And anyway, you got me all worked up with all that sweet talk only to leave me feeling all blue? Oh, my sweet, have mercy!”

You probably should have said no. Because Astarion realistically had no way of knowing when the rest would be back. He wasn’t even putting much effort into making the lie sound convincing, just looked at you with a cocked brow and a subtle, infuriating smirk. You realised that although he was very much good to go, Astarion was holding himself back, waiting for your consent. Always waiting for you to tell him or show him that you were on board and a willing participant. You lifted yourself up enough for your lips to touch his, tongue darting out to tease his bottom lip. Astarion deepened the kiss, holding your head up with one hand as the other brushed lightly against your neck.

His mouth left yours and you whined at the loss, making him chuckle.

“So, I’m assuming this is you saying yes?” Astarion went lower, curls tickling your skin.

“Okay,” you moaned when his fangs grazed the swell of your breast and his tongue found your nipple, every lap of his tongue delivered with a self-satisfied hum.

“Tell me more about what you saw. I’m curious what would make one ‘intoxicatingly handsome’.”

“I- wha?”

He wanted you to talk? Like to actually form coherent sentences at a time like this? Because your brain was currently in standby mode and you wouldn’t be able to manage much unless it was yes, please and yes, yes, more!

But apparently that was not an option. Judging by Astarion’s reaction, he very much desired you to tell him what happened in every detail. It wasn’t the first time he wanted you to talk during sex. But usually it was along the lines of narrating what you were doing to him or pleading, moaning for him to do more to you.

"Why?" you asked.

"Why not?" he shot back with a cheeky smile.

That twist of his lips was downright evil.

“I am curious,” he admitted easily, fingers skimming along your hipbone, the touch featherlight and playful. “And I would like to satiate my curiosity, just as you, my sweet, would want to come out of this sated. All it would take is some words. Such a little thing to ask of you, all things considered.”

This was torture.

You tried pushing your hips up, but he effectively trapped them under long, splayed, playful fingers.

Astarion found that if he just stared at you long enough, you would fidget and eventually give in to his demands. He was not wrong.

“…fine,” you grumbled, crossed your arms over your chest  and looked away from him huffily, which only seemed to amuse Astarion more.

“And don’t start from the end. I want to know everything. Be a good girl and you will get your reward. Now get on with it, dearest!”

You looked at him carefully and what you saw made your heart melt a little. Astarion’s eyes were bright with genuine curiosity and you couldn't help but indulge him.

“I said the incantation, stating that I wanted what will have happened in 10 years. And the next moment I was at the beach.”

“The beach? As in the beach where we crashed?” he frowned.

“Yes. And I saw you almost immediately. You were cradling a baby who was you spitting image. All sweet downy curls,” you smiled softly, wistfully. “And our daughter, from what I saw of her, looks so much like you too.”

You were glad that they took more after their father. Truth be told, you never felt yourself to be attractive enough to be with someone as beautiful as Astarion. You knew that he loved you, saw something in you that you yourself could not see. And that was enough.

Sensing your wandering thoughts his teeth bit your bottom lip hungrily and sucked, making you cry out ever so softly.

He released your poor, abused lip. Because he wanted nothing but a little taste.

“And what were you doing, my sweet? The future you?”

“I am not sure, I saw myself very briefly. Just as I was being whisked away. But I swear that I was pregnant.”

“Mmm.. two children and one on the way. You fertile thing. How good of you to allow me to have my fill of you. But then again, no matter how well you hide it under those coy smiles and pretend protests, out of the two of us you are the voracious one.”

You were about to protest, but whatever you were about to say was cut off by a moan as he pressed his thumb against your clit. With a practiced motion Astarion rubbed lightly, applying more pressure as he felt you squirm. You gasped and arched against him, the action pressing your breasts to his chin.

He pressed a kiss to one and then and promptly bit a nipple, lathering it with saliva and blowing softly until it peaked out obscenely. Satisfied, Astarion brought the same attention to the other breast, thoroughly enjoying the way you came undone for him.

Desperately, fighting against the intensity of his onslought, you pushed at him, wanting his mouth away from there, onto other, more responsive places.

You didn't want him to stop, oh no. You just wanted more.

"Please..."

And then his lips were on yours again – biting, tasting, conquering.

"Please what, my sweet?"

'Please' was a pleasant word, Astarion reflected. It framed the current situation nicely. He was pleased, and you were very much wanting, needing him to please you too.

You would have to beg a while longer, he settled, even as he moved up your body and rolled his hips, brushing sensually against the part of you that was weeping for his attention. Being a benevolent, generous lover, he could not leave you wanting. One finger teased you, soon joined by another, his thumb not ceasing its ministrations.

“Tell me how much you want me, what should I do to you. Tell me, darling,” he coaxed you, pumping his fingers into your centre, making you jerk and gasp under him.

When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he slipped them out, drumming his fingers against your hipbone in a mock display of impatience.

You arched your hips up but Astarion stopped you in place, leaning over you with an uncompromising, teasing look on his face, while you stammered and blushed, looking for words to tell him what you wanted so much.

“I- I want you to have me.”

“You know that is not all I’m looking to do.”

“And I -I want you -I want to have that future with you,” you admitted. “More than anything.”

“Yes,” Astarion hissed, satisfied by your answer enough to roll his hips against yours and snake his hand down to tease your clit again, “you are mine, love. Our future. Our children. We will have it all.”

Astarion’s other hand gripped your waist, fangs pricking the sensitive skin of your neck. There was no sound of protest when he tilted your head back further and pressed his lips to your neck harshly, needily, feeling your pulse.

“Yes,” both a reply to his unspoken request and a confirmation of his words. You felt a sharp sting and then welcome numbness as he drank, rutting against you with shallow moans as he sought some form of relief.

He gulped your blood down greedily, relishing in the taste, his hand teasing your entrance as you lifted your legs, moving them to brush against his waist and down his sides.

Astarion’s lips softened against you and he drew back, panting and looking at you through lust-filled eyes.

“You sweet, generous thing. Obeying me so completely. Gifting me with such promises. I believe it is time I’ve delivered on mine.”

Astarion pressed you harder against the bed, pinning you down to make sure you were helpless against his restless hands and lips on your body. You quivered with want, the flush of your cheeks bringing a purr of satisfaction from him. 

“Astarion, please-  Astarion!”

“Yes, that’s right. Say my name. I want to hear you scream my name as you come.”

He withdrew his fingers and you followed him with a whine at being denied your release, seeking relief.

“Oh my dear, I would very much like you to come with me buried deep inside, if it’s all the same to you,” he chuckled and aligned himself with your entrance. As fun as teasing you into a delirious state of want was, he could not hold off much longer, wanting your warmth.

He drank the vision that you were in. Your lips were slightly bruised, hair mussed, a thin trickle of blood oozing slowly down your neck to stain the bedding. You looked delightfully wrecked and he was nowhere near done with you.

His length pressed slowly into you. You gasped softly and just before your body stopped writhing beneath his, he thrust into you. Your inner walls clenched down on him shallowly and his eyes fluttered close with a hiss of pleasure. Slowly, he began to thrust his body in and out, his head falling forward, lips pressing against the fresh bite marks on your neck.

Soon your bodies fell into a pattern and your soft mewls once again filled the room, Astarion’s name falling from your lips in broken harmonies.

“Yes,” he gave a low groan and spread your legs wider without breaking his stride, “say my name.”

You felt the coil inside you tighten and then snap as you came, Astarion thrusting into you roughly as he fucked you through your orgasm.

As he felt you release a shuddering breath against his collarbone he paused briefly, tilting his head forward to kiss your forehead, your temple, your hair. You lifted yourself up enough for your lips to brush his.

“I love you, Astarion.”

“Say it again," he began moving slowly.

"I love you," you breathed out, Astarion picking up speed.

"Again," he groaned, giving a hard thrust.

Between soft moans you gently murmured, “I love you,” pressing your lips to his ear, running your fingers along the tip. And that was enough to send Astarion over the edge. With sloppy, inelegant thrusts he came, groaning into your shoulder as he rode out his orgasm before falling still.

He clutched you to his chest, perhaps a little too hard, and kissed the crown of your head. He didn’t say it back, but you knew that he felt it too. He did say it before, the night that he took you to see his grave, the night when he told you how much your relationship mattered to him. And you knew that these words might not come easily to him now that he actually meant them.

You yawned and closed your eyes, content to stay like this a little while longer.

“Oh fuck, these two are fucking again!”

Your eyes snapped open.

“Astarion, you said that they wouldn’t be back!” you hissed, pushing him as you tried to pull the covers up to preserve some modesty.

“Well, excuse me! It’s not my fault that they decided to barge in without knocking!” he complained, levelling Karlach and Shadowheart with a look and a sneer. “Honestly, some people have no manners at all!”

“It’s a shared room, they live here too!”

“Yes. Although at such moments I miss the relative privacy of camping in tents,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and walked out, closely followed by guffawing tiefling.

That evening all your friends pitched in and got you two a separate room. It was for the best really. Although Astarion was not exactly a details person, once he set his mind on something he pursued it obsessively.

You have given him much to look forward to. It seemed that your adventures were only just beginning. And Astarion did not know when and how you two would actually manage to do all that you saw in your little cheeky look into the future.

But Astarion knew one thing for certain. You were a lot of fun and he looked forward to spending his life with you.  And fucking you relentlessly because the idea of you being pregnant with his children made him feel things that he had never once in the past thought he would feel.

Tag list: @ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk

@anukulee, @preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck

[drvirgus]

Mute!

Non-Idol! Hanni X Mute! Reader

Description: Life as a mute girl in university: How does Y/n navigate her life, especially when she has to work on a project with her crush, one of the popular kids on campus? Can Y/n find a way to express her feelings?

Warnings: Trauma; strong language; kys/kms jokes; insults; bad family 😔 (kind of abuse?)

Tags: Non-Idol AU; Smau; College AU; strangers to lovers?

Ft: Newjeans; Yuna (Itzy); Felix (stray kids); Wonyoung (ive); Yeji (Itzy); Hyunjin (Stray kids)

Status: Finished ✅

Taglist: Closed

A/n: I’m not mute or met any mute person in my whole life. I do not want to offend any person with my story. It would be nice if you (if you’re mute or know a person that’s mute) could write me if I did something wrong or share your experience to make this story much more believable.

a/n: I’ll often use Ryujins face to represent Y/n 😌🤝��

———————————————————————————

Profiles: My Models; The protection squad;

01. Stop sign

02. mp3 player

03. she‘s hot 🔥

04. announcement

05. you ask him

06. any more questions?

07. She‘s deaf…

08. a Relief

09. desperate

10. stalking

11. 3 minutes of happiness

12. Coffee

Bonus: Coffee & Food (fully-written)

13. It wasn´t a Date

14. Missing (1)

15. Missing (2)

16. Mood swings

Bonus: Cold Hands (fully-written)

17. Dumb Hanni

18. are we?

19. Confusion

20. Suffer!!!

Bonus: double Date (fully-written)

21. Who’s Yeji?

22. sleeping over?

23. am I a choice?

24. MINJI!!!

25. Sleep over

Bonus: Sleep over (Fully-Written)

26. Minji’s pv acc

27. am I different?

28. huh?

29. best idea 💡

30. kiss?

31. You’re so dumb

32. Spider-Man

33. MINJI!!! (2)

34. Boundaries

35. Jealousy

36. Apologize

37. how was it?

38. I won

39. a day with Haerin

40. Plan

41. Recordings

42. project

43. thanks

44. hope

45. Trauma

46. Trip?

47. Elemental

48. Bus ride

49. Mission failed…

50. Bravery test

51. helpless (1) (fully-written)

52. helpless (2) (fully- written)

53. you saved me

54. rizz god

55. come over

56. lost chance

57. Spider

58. Yeji

59. Are you jealous?

60. another movie

61. I’m trying

62. Yuna and Minji

63. the day of day

64. I’m so dumb….

Bonus: I‘m so dumb (fully written)

65. blocked

66. 🤟

67. teach me to drive

68. unexpected

69. engaged

70. Hopefully

———————————————————————————

Taglist: @sixflame438 @saysirhc @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @somedaydream @wonyoungssi @gtfoiydlyj

[piastrisun]

assist, then kiss.

pairings: george russell + assistant female character.

summary: when lewis’ bails on dinner, his assistant ends up sharing the evening with his teammate. what was supposed to be a casual night turns into an accidental setup.

faceclaim: laura harrier.

notes: named protagonist.

LONDON, ENGLAND. FEBRUARY 10.

liked by georgerussell63, username and others

lewishamilton dinner with the lady before the season starts. wonderful night as always.

tagged rhode

view all comments

username that’s my wife

username1 lewis or rhode cause it could be any of them

username both

username2 i’m obsessed with them

username3 what’s the deal here i’m new and i don’t get anything 😭😭

username4 rhode is lewis’ assistant and close friend!! they hang out almost all the time off work

rhode well deserved dinner for being the most wonderful assistant ever

lewishamilton true, very much deserved

username5 they’re so sweet

username6 glad you had an amazing break!!

georgerussell63 see you on track, mate!

georgerussell63 and see you on the garage, rhode

rhode 🫂

SAKHIR, BAHRAIN. FEBRUARY 27.

rhode added to their story.

replies to your story

georgerussell63 oh hello there!

rhode 👋🏾

georgerussell63 reacted ❤️ to your message

lewishamilton no hey lewis

rhode the 44 cap says it all

lewishamilton ☹️☹️☹️

rhode but

username how are you going to look THAT good on a casual selfie

liked by alex_albon, username and others

georgerussell63 testing done! thanks to the team in bahrain and back home for all the hard work. and hello to rhodie for sneaking in my selfie.

view all comments

username1 let’s goooo george 🩵

username2 “rhodie” is so cute

username3 am so delusional i think they’d be a really good couple

username2 fr they match each other’s vibes but it’s never happening

username4 my fave f1 model

rhode hey george 🫶🏾 ♥︎ liked by author

lewishamilton 🕴🏻

MARCH 01.

RHODE’S CHATS: LEWIS HAMILTON & GEORGE RUSSELL.

RHODE’S CHATS: LEWIS HAMILTON.

rhode added to their story.

replies to your story

georgerussell63 posting a picture where you look stunning while i look like that should be a crime

rhode that’s just how you look on the daily basis

georgerussell63 JAIL TIME DESERVED

lewishamilton 👀👀👀

lewishamilton stop leaving me in seen

rhode thought you suggested me to flirt while you bail?

lewishamilton i have an eye for this stuff!!!

MARCH 20.

APRIL 03.

APRIL 28.

rhode added to their story.

replies to your story:

lewishamilton if you two aren’t a match then i don’t know what love is

rhode i’m going to hold your hand when i say this…

georgerussell63 out all of the awful pictures you took of me, this has to be one of the WORST

rhode not my fault you look like you’d ask me if i have games on my phone 😭😭

georgerussell63 MATE???

MAY 10.

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and others

rhode a few moments of the past few weeks. swipe for a surprise. <3

tagged lewishamilton, georgerussell63

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username i was like aweee most beautiful dump and there’s george

username2 she’s not serious at all 😭😭

username4 why was i expecting a normal picture of him since they were together yesterday

username3 how does it feel to live my DREAM

username4 travel the world, being hot and funny?

username3 no, being friends w lewis and george

username5 ok that’s fair

georgerussell63 OH COME ON

georgerussell63 never gonna get pass that moment i see

rhode true, nothing you’ll ever do will be as good as you recording alex

alex_albon thanks for keeping him humble, he needs it

rhode 🙏

username6 alexrhode interaction????

lewishamilton now you owe me one! i’ll wait for my fruit basket right here

rhode you’re gonna die waiting

lewishamilton 🙃

rhode please don’t fire me

georgerussell63 added to their story.

replies to your story:

rhode IM CRYING WHAT IS THIS

georgerussell63 you know what it is, pure hate

rhode omg you’re obsessed with me

georgerussell63 i wanna throw a rock at you

rhode that’s the best you came up with??? AFTER TEN MINUTES

georgerussell63 yes please don’t judge

username at this point you two should turn your accounts into hate pages of each other 😭😭

alex_albon big dumbass energy except it’s not energy but a fact

georgerussell63 thanks!

alex_albon ur welcome

rhode added to their story.

replies to your story:

georgerussell63 are you trying to flirt with me right now

rhode no, we are at work!!!

georgerussell63 technically i don’t work with you ☝️

username9 dream work? more like dream girl

liked by username4, landonorris and others

georgerussell63 already planning my next visit, not with rhode though. 🗺️

view all comments

username5 I CANT WITH THEM

username6 they’re so funny together, i bet lewis regrets introducing them

rhode i'm choosing to ignore the caption AND that you tried to make me look bad… you really are incapable of posting with a shirt ON

georgerussell YOU TOOK IT so whose to blame 🫵

username imagine they are together and we are making fools of ourselves

username2 IMAGINE OMG

rhode well yes! ♥︎ liked by author

username3 £;&:&:& WHAT

username4 i just fell at my knees

liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton and others

rhode forgot to mention. but we do love each other, i swear!!!

tagged georgerussell63

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username lewis setting them up by accident might be my favourite thing ever

georgerussell63 and she takes good pictures of me, don’t hate on her!!!!

rhode literally no one did

georgerussell63 i did 🫣

rhode i’m done with you

georgerussell63 no you’re not

rhode you right

username LMAOOOO they’re so funny

username2 the relationship i deserve

username3 us not realising they were together because they are always joking it’s so george 😭

georgerussell63 fun fact: i love you!!!

rhode WOAHHHH, did you know that i love you too?

username4 that’s it they’re my parents now

lewishamilton my favourite couple by far! 🖤

rhode thank you for dumping us that night, but don’t do it again

lewishamilton yes m’am 🫡

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[lollybliz]

There is technically a limit it's just very Very generous fjdjdksk

so i have a mildly popular “reblog and put in in the tags” post going around and its. very clear how many people don’t know how to interact with a tumblr post

so, first of all, tumblr’s culture has changed a lot in the past couple years. there’s a genuine community effort to not start any drama, and ironically a lot of the current hostility is an effort to keep things calm. there’s also a change in how people interact with posts, so if you haven’t been here in a while please skip down to the tags/replies/reblog with text section.

for newcomers: you should be reblogging posts about as liberally as you would like something on twitter. if you only like stuff, people will think you are rude/a bot. you’ve probably heard people talk about “cultivating your dash,” and thats because this platform is 100% centered around your dashboard. trending matters less, unfollowing and blocking in order to shape your dash into it’s best form is widely accepted, the majority of the content you’ll find and interact with will be because of your dash, and the only way to put things on your dash is to reblog them. tumblr users are deeply distrustful of algorithms and have largely turned off the “see posts your friends have liked” function (i recommend you also turn of the various algorithms in settings → general settings → dashboard preferences).

so, once you’ve reblogged a post, there’s three ways to add content to it. the tags, replies, and reblogging with text. all of them have different connotations

the tags: an inside voice. originally they were meant for organizing your blog (and they’re still used for this), but they’ve also morphed into a way to share thoughts that aren’t funny/insightful enough for non-followers to be interested in. when in doubt, put your comment in the tags

replies: basically talking to your friends in class. your followers have no way of finding your replies (they don’t pop up on the dash, nobody gets notified except for the original poster) so chances are, only the person who made the post is gonna see your comment. it’s for quick one-offs that you’re okay with other people overhearing, but really is only made for one person. they’re like a public dm

reblog with text: an outside voice. you’re getting up on a stage in town square and entertaining people. make sure it’s funny or insightful— bottom line, add something new to the conversation. you should use this the least

general rules of thumb: 

when in doubt, reblog. people will judge you if your blog is only personal posts and you only interact with other content by liking it.  

the only things people will judge you for reblogging are personal vent posts. leave a like to give a little virtual hug

if a post is asking about your personality/opinions (i.e: tell me what’s the last tv show you watched, that kind of thing) put it in the tags 

also if you see a nice edit, gifset, or art, reblog and say something nice in the tags! it’s that nice sweet spot of common enough that no one will notice but uncommon enough to make the artist’s day

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 12

TITLE: Like Throwing Petrol on a Fire

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Hyunjin can't get either his or your clothes off in time for him to fuck you. Unfortunately, he has to resort to and put up with another method.

TAGS: pre-established relationship, dry humping, swearing, poor Hyunjin can’t help himself (also both reader and Hyunjin are mentioned to be at the club but there is no alcohol involved with this story)

KINK: Dry humping.

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604

🩷🩷🩷

-

It was meant to be a good night out for you and Hyunjin, which it was to begin with. You, him, and a group of friends all collectively decided to go clubbing together for the first time in a while. However, later in the night, Hyunjin would find himself in a predicament that he never would've been able to climb his way out of.  

What started off as innocently taking you to the dance floor, turned out to be the worst decision he had ever made. 

Had you not been pressing your ass against his hips for the entirety of the night, Hyunjin wouldn’t be where he is now; sexually frustrated and pissed off because you were teasing him in public. The fact that you knew and felt that he was getting hard, yet continued to grind on him was enough for Hyunjin to take you by the wrist, and pull you with him to the bathroom. 

Sneaky, public, bathroom sex would’ve been ideal for you both at the club – had it not already been full to the brim with other occupants already going at each other. It was either that or go home, and Hyunjin is not one to muck around when he’s horny.

He gets desperate, almost borderline agitated when he’s in the mood because he can’t fuck you.  

Seeing him like that always makes you want to tease him, but you know better. Teasing him means pure punishment for you and Hyunjin has a very creative mind so you always tread carefully around him when he’s in that state. He could deprive you of his body for an entire week or fuck you every day if he wanted. He’s just full of surprises. 

But now and then, Hyunjin becomes so needy that punishments and rewards don’t even cross his mind. That instance just so happened to occur at the club.

Having been so frustrated with not being able to find a decent place to fuck you, the pair of you needed to go home. Alleyways and narrow streets weren’t going to cut it for him, not when there were too many people loitering around. 

So Hyunjin led you back to his car, jumping in and nearly racing off. To make matters worse for him, you decide to test him by palming over his already hard cock. He couldn’t bear the strain he felt against his pants regardless of the small easements of pressure you were giving him as he drove you both back home. 

His head presses back into his chair, trying with every ounce of strength to keep his eyes on the road, “baby, why can’t you wait until we get home?” 

“Because I need you now Jinnie,” you mutter, taking advantage of the state that he’s in. 

Hyunjin does his best to ignore your answer as he turns the last corner onto the street of the house. He eventually slows down and pulls into the driveway to park. As he gets out, he’s thankful that it’s pitch black and everyone in the neighbourhood is asleep, otherwise they would’ve easily seen how hard is. 

“Keys,” you say to him. 

Hyunjin is already on it, barely saying anything as he pulls the house key out of his pocket with a shaky hand and unlocks the front door. The second it’s open, it’s Hyunjin’s game now. 

He pulls you in by the wrist, slamming the door, and backs you right against the entryway table with such force that it dents the wall behind it. There’s no making it to the room, let alone the lounge at this rate.

Hyunjin helps lift you onto the surface of the table, hoisting your legs up just to push and spread them for him to slide in between. Even just feeling the heat in between your thighs is enough to give him some relief, but not the kind that he's craving. 

“I need you…so bad baby,” he groans, pressing his hard, clothed cock into your pussy. 

The friction for you is incredible against your clit, but you do feel for Hyunjin who can’t do much when he’s in formal black slacks. All the while one of Hyunjin’s arms wraps around your lower back so that he can grope the other side of your body while the other hooks around and digs into your thigh.

“Yeah?” You ask, allowing him to continue to fake fuck you while his face is buried in your neck. He can’t even think straight enough to try to take his pants off.

Hyunjin groans, his voice raspy yet hurried, “fuck, I-“

“You know I’m ready for you, so wet for you Jinnie,” you egg him on even further. “Just want you to fuck me.”

His moans are exasperated and breathy, he always sounds beautiful to you when he’s like this, “I can’t – fuck I’m gonna cum…”

You’re not surprised given that you’ve technically been teasing him for the past hour now. So now all you can do is sympathise and let him do what he needs to. 

“It’s okay,” you assure him, breathing just as fast as he is. “Just cum for me.”

Hyunjin’s hips stagger out of their pace, continuing to thrust his dick repeatedly until he has to bite down on your shoulder to suppress the loud moans that are straining out of his throat. Not even a few seconds later, Hyunjin is rocked with an orgasm that has him gripping tightly onto your body, nails digging into you.

The pace of his thrusts slows down after his breathing reaches its peak height. Hyunjin has forgotten what it felt like to not cum inside you for once. It reminds him of the time when you first got together and were scared to take each other's virginities so only dry humping really made the cut. It still feels good, but not as nearly as glorious as busting a warm load inside of you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin sighs.

"Feel better?" You ask, carding your hand through the back of his black hair.

He looks down in between your legs, seeing the hairline-like, sticky strings of cum that connect from his clothed dick to your damp underwear. Hyunjin can barely tell if it's from him, or if that's just because you're wet. Maybe it's both. Either way, he finds it hot.

"You drive me crazy you know that?" Hyunjin says to you, leaning back in to snuggle his face into your neck once more. “Now I have to get hard again to fuck you.”

[wongyuseokie]

Better Than Me | Lee Seokmin; SMAU

Summary: You and Seokmin have been dating for a few years, but now you're the star of a new drama with your co-star Rowoon, which makes Seokmin insecure. Seokmin tries his best to be supportive and understanding, but sometimes it's too much, and you're both unsure if your relationship can survive the jealousy and fights.

Pairing: Idol! Lee Seokmin x Actress! Female Reader

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕ implied smut | ♥ completed works

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Idol AU! and Actress AU! Content Warnings: swearing, angst, jealousy, crying, mentions of a sprained ankle lol. Mentions of sex, food and snacks and Dispatch being public enemy number 1. Featuring the ever so handsome Rowoon. Also unnecessary Rowoon slander from Seokmin.

Smut Warnings: Mentions of multiple rounds and scratching.

Author's Note 1: thank you to the lovely @gyuwoncheol and thank you to my resident Seokmin lover @the-boy-meets-evil and my lovely wifey(s) @bitchlessdino @multi-kpop-fanfics ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ thank you guys for hearing me go on and on about this <3

Author's Note 2: This series will be released in 2024! (and yes i'm reposting this because the tag system was bothering me).

Author's Note 3: This is all fiction. ❤️

Authors Note 4: I know you're too humble, but this story would not exist without @gyuwoncheol I've wanted to make you co-author because you've inspired and helped me SO MUCH. But you won't let me, but I need you to know how much you mean to me. Thank you for being such a safe space for me to outlet and share updates and ideas. But importantly thank you for always making time for me. I adore you, my love. 🩷🩷🩷

Let me know if you wish to be tagged in this, I will only tag those who have their age visible on their profiles and are 18+.

Updates will be made daily.

Part 1: Tall Ass Rowoon ✔️ Part 2: Access Code ✔️ Part 3: Wires ✔️ Part 4: Fuck Dispatch ✔️ Part 5: #concerned ✔️ Part 6: Slutty Eyes ✔️ Part 7: Overworked PR Team ✔️ Part 8: Spiteful ✔️ Part 9: The Brightest Star ✔️ Part 10: Therapist Shua ✔️ Part 11: Emotional Support Teddy Bear ✔️ Part 12: Drunk On You ✔️ Part 13: Twice a Week ✔️ Part 14: Sweet Lies ✔️ Part 15: Hell ✔️ Part 16: Not Okay ✔️ Part 17: Test ✔️ Part 18: Hell 2.0 ✔️ Part 19: Irreparable ✔️ Part 20: Returned ✔️ Part 21: Locked Out ✔️ Part 22: Time Machine ✔️ Part 23: Lukewarm ✔️ Part 24: Fractured ✔️ Part 25: Hell 3.0 ✔️ Part 26: Last Chance ✔️ Part 27: To You (written) ✔️ Part 28: Forever ✔️ Epilogue ✔️

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved. Tag List: @dkluvrsclub @wooahaeproductions @seokgyuu @stayinhellevator @aaniag @the-boy-meets-evil @hoeforhao @here4kpopfics @ressonancee @seungkwansphd @tomodachiii @shadowyjellyfishfest @kyeomooniee @allmyl0ve17 @soupbinlily @randomworker @gyuminusone @onlyseokmins @strawberryya @meowmeowminnie @woozixo @jeonghansshitester @multi-kpop-fanfics @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @imprettyweird @shuasunshine @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @gyuhanniescarat @thepoopdokyeomtouched @joonsytip @hrts4hanniehae @highvern @buffhoshi @huening-kawaii @wonwoobestboyy

I'm tagging folks who I think would be interested/ have expressed their interest hehe)

[nicoleheichou]

synopsis: when your acting careers start to pick up you and your boyfriend zoro both decide that it's better to go your separate ways. you didn't want to, but you knew he was right. fast forward to a couple years later, when you're finally starting to heal, your friends score a deal to shoot a movie together with your ex and you're starting to think maybe you haven't really moved on.

¤ warnings: tiny anime spoilers, fluff, not too much angst, alcohol use, i'll add more if i need to.

¤ disclaimer: i don't own any of the op characters, the pictures i use are just for reference so you can see what I'm imagining, yn looks how you want her to look. i try my best to use the opla cast as face claims.

¤ taglist is open. i'm only going to have 50 slots. if you don't tell me your name is changed and i'm unable to tag you i will take your name off and open up the spot for someone else.

¤ starting: february 28, 2024

¤ updates: wednesdays ~ 6pm MST

¤ 🖊 = writing portion

yn's group | zoro's group

kingofthepirats

i needed a break

that's classified

don't know how to feel

she won't leave

fingers crossed 🤞

a win is a win

girl dinner

stick to acting

hate to admit it

game night

friends? 🖊

aye aye captain 🫡

too late for us

summer of 2020

testing...testing...

welcome to the family

happy birthday

can't be weird

for a little bit 🖊

so whipped

a sad day

that's my girlfriend!

what about him?

no bullshit 🖊

so worth it

fear for @prettygirlyn

can't sleep? 🖊

only one who knows

spell it out for you

for the plot

don't lie to me

ha. ha. ha.

only one i want

bless you nami!!!

caught!

he did what?!?!?

passenger princess

starts with l and ends in uffy

can't trust anyone

here lies this conversation

moving too fast 🖊

currently having fomo

i hate you

different kind of special

officially off the market

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 28: Blurred Lines

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

The world tilts as Astarion’s grip slackens, and you’re weightless, teetering at the edge of oblivion. Your heart—a dead, useless thing—manages to throb with phantom desperation as you realize he might actually do it.

He might actually let you fall.

The Styx churns below like a living wound. The current writhes, eager to claim another victim, and the sound it makes—a low, insidious hiss—finds its way beneath your skin. An acrid smell rises from the waters, promising agony, devoting to strip you of every piece of yourself that you’ve managed to hold onto.

Even if you wanted to fight, even if you had some clever plan tucked behind your teeth, there’s nothing you can do against the inevitability of gravity.

Against the inevitability of him.

Your mind scrambles through memories, trying to find some hint, a sign that you missed. You think of your time together, the fire that burns between you—sometimes love, sometimes hatred—always a dalliance with danger. You think of the quiet moments, the words unsaid between touches. They meant something, right?

What if it never meant anything at all? Maybe it really was all just a game to him, as he has claimed innumerable times. Now, here you are, the fool pensile on the precipice of obliteration, thinking you could somehow reach him again and pry out the remnants of the man you love from the hollow, heartless shell that’s taken his place.

What will it take? Astarion's grip loosens further, and you can almost feel the moment you slip through his fingers—the moment where everything ends, where everything is erased. Will you forget him, forget all of this, if the waters take you? Would that be a mercy? Would that be the release you’ve been chasing?

No. A primal terror flares in your chest, burning hotter than the infernal winds that scorch Avernus. You don't want to forget. You don't want to lose everything that makes you... you. The memories, the pain, the love—they're all I have left. A broken, twisted part of you still clings to hope and believes there’s a way out of this. There has to be. You didn’t survive the mind-flayer tadpoles, the Absolute, the Netherbrain, and everything in between just to lose everything now.

Did you?

And yet... there’s that other voice whispering insidiously in the back of your mind. What if this is all that’s left? What if you’re just clinging to a ghost, a delusion that died long before you had the courage to admit it?

The panic wraps around your thoughts like a clamp, and your hands claw at Astarion's wrist and arm, but his strength is unwavering. Your vision blurs as you look up at him, seeing that dangerous glint in his eyes—a hunger, a power, a cruelty that you thought you understood, but maybe you never really did.

It’s funny, in the bleakest way, that after all you’ve endured, it’s this that undoes you. Not a battle or a blade, but his indifference. A choice he could make without a second thought, or maybe he’s thought of nothing else. You can’t even tell anymore.

Astarion's grip loosens an unbearable fraction. Every inch of you rebels against the plunge into nothingness below, and you pull your legs up, toes curling with the instinctive, useless urge to find purchase, but there’s no ledge, no handhold, nothing except the awaiting maw of the river.

You look around wildly, your gaze snagging on mirages that aren’t there, desperate to conjure someone—anyone—who might wrench you away from this declivity. There’s no rescue waiting, no ally in the depths, or salvation in the heights. It’s just you and Astarion, and the narrow bridge of his fingers wrapped around your neck.

“Just... just do it, Astarion.” It’s a ragged demand, desperate and raw, slipping through clenched teeth.

You’re not even sure what you’re asking for. To end this? To make it quick? To make him prove that he truly doesn’t care?

He says nothing, his expression a mask of cruel delight, revelling in your surrender. The silence stretches until his grip shifts again—just barely, just enough to make your stomach lurch, to send you one heartbeat closer to that waiting crimson maw.

And you swear you’re actually falling.

Astarion’s grip disappears as he pulls you back with a violent jerk, sending you tumbling like a discarded plaything. You skid across the jagged terrain of Avernus, rocks biting into your skin as the impact jars your bones. You scramble to right yourself, only to find him standing there, staring down at his own hands as if they belong to someone else entirely.

“What the fuck was that?” he mutters, turning his arms over as though searching for answers hidden in his flesh. “You think this is some kind of game?” he snaps icily. “You provoke me, push me, and then expect what? Mercy? Compassion? A bloody saviour?”

You try to interject, but his words drown you out. “You’re utterly foolish, you know that? Like a moth flitting towards a flame, completely unaware you’ll get burned. It’s astonishing, really. How many times do you need to learn this lesson?”

“You’re making this far too easy for me,” he continues, more to himself than you. “Do you want to be erased? Is that what you crave? I can certainly oblige, darling. You toy with my emotions, and cling to this pathetic hope that I still love you.” His voice falters, falling over the words with none of his typical eloquence.

Astarion’s rage swells, turning him into a whirlwind of motion as he paces back and forth. His elegant frame moves with a predatory grace. “You truly are insufferable!” he growls, gesturing wildly as if the very air around him is to blame for your audacity. “Do you ever stop to think, even for a moment? Or is your brain too muddled with delusions of grandeur?”

He whirls to face you, eyes flashing with a treacherous light. “What do you expect from me? Do you honestly believe I care enough to save you from your own stupidity? You’re acting like a child, and it’s frankly exhausting. Yet, here I am,” he continues, a hint of self-loathing creeping into his tone.

His pacing quickens, and he runs a hand through his tousled hair, frustration spilling from him like water from a cracked vessel. “You’re so godsdamned desperate for affection, clawing at me with all the grace of a rabid animal. If I were any less inclined to humour your whims, I’d have dropped you into the Styx ages ago. It’s a bloody miracle I haven’t.” He pauses, and the anger temporarily melts away. “But I cannot quite bring myself to do it, can I?”

The silence that follows is rife with tension, fury, and an odd kind of tenderness coalescing that neither of you can quite grasp.

Astarion’s harsh, mocking laughter rings out. “I thought I was finally making progress with you, my lovely little plaything. I had you right where I wanted, didn’t I? Seducing you into betraying your precious husband.”

You can’t help but bristle at his taunts. “You are my husband, Astarion. A part of him anyway.”

Astarion’s response is immediate—a laugh that drips with disdain. “Oh, please. I would never marry my spawn. The very thought is laughable.”

“Was it all a manipulation?” You press, eyes narrowing as you meet his gaze head-on.

He answers with a whetted, unapologetic, “Yes. That’s what I do, isn’t it? Seduce, manipulate, use sex as a noose to pull the unsuspecting closer, and you, my dear, are no exception. I’ve spent centuries honing this talent. You’re just another pawn on my elaborate little chessboard.”

The satisfaction in his voice sends a chill racing down your spine, but you refuse to let him see how much his admission wounds you. “I don’t believe you,” you challenge.

“The lines blur, don’t they?” he concedes. “Between manipulation and desire, between power and something resembling care.”

It’s an admission, raw and unexpected, and it leaves you disarmed. “Then why push me away? Why not let yourself feel?”

He looks at you with an inscrutable expression, and you can’t quite decipher what it means. “I’m not built for softness, love. It’s easier to break things than to mend them.”

“Maybe that’s your choice,” you retort, emboldened. “But it doesn’t have to be mine.”

The compulsion slams into you like a wall—undeniable, unforgiving. His voice is cold and commanding, barely glancing your way as he snaps, “Follow. Don’t talk—I need to think.”

The order thrums through you, forcing you to fall into step behind him, trailing at his heels like an obedient pet. Every inch of you aches to resist, but your limbs obey without question, each step landing in sync with his own. Each one sends a pleasurable trill through you as if he’s put his hand directly in your brain and is caressing the pleasure center.

He paces along the Styx’s edge, his eyes fixed ahead, occasionally darting down to the murky depths. He mutters, a haphazard string of paranoia, sometimes biting, sometimes distant. You catch fragments, but you cannot make any sense of them.

Eventually, he stops, and you nearly bump into him, managing to halt just before your nose collides with his back. A rickety structure of warped wood and iron-bound posts juts into the dark, viscous river. An old dock, but in such a state of disrepair that it’s hardly recognizable as one any longer.

“Do you know how to call on the Ferryman?” He demands, sounding like he’s barely holding onto his temper.

You know exactly who he’s talking about—the knowledge picked up during those long, restless nights studying the twisted ways of the Hells, but you find your lips glued shut, your body rigid and unyielding. Your glare is the only answer you can muster, a withering look you hope conveys all the words he’s barred you from speaking.

Astarion's brows pinch, and then he lets out a huff, rolling his eyes. “Oh, giving me the silent treatment now, are we? How very mature.” He scoffs, seemingly unaware that he’s the one who’s forced this quiet upon you. “Honestly, it’s a little childish, even for you.”

He resumes his pace along the river’s edge, clearly irked by your lack of response. “I mean, do you even grasp what we’re up against here? Or are you too busy brooding to be of any use?” You try to will your mouth open, to force your voice past the invisible restraints he’s placed, but the compulsion holds you fast.

“Honestly, sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one doing any real thinking here,” he mumbles, half to himself, half to you. “It’s all theatrics with you, isn’t it? Little games and… glares.” He narrows his eyes, shooting you an annoyed glance. “But, at least, I can always rely on that death stare of yours. Really, it’s about all you contribute some days.”

“This insufferable silence of yours—do you think it’s clever?” He lets out a scathingly sour laugh. “Honestly, it’s nigh on impressive how you manage to contribute less and less every day.”

You might roll your eyes if you had control of them. It’s both supremely irritating and oddly amusing. He’s the one who’s bound you to silence, and yet here he is, working himself into an absolutely fine rage, about your lack of response. He’s so self-absorbed, so utterly unaware that it would be laughable if you could invoke even the smallest hiss.

Finally, Astarion turns on you, and his patience fully snaps. He storms over, grabbing you by the shoulders, his fingers digging into your arms with a bruising intensity. “Enough of this!” he barks, shaking you slightly as if he might dislodge an answer from you by force.

You remain as stiff as stone by the very compulsion he’s forgotten he imposed. His eyes narrow as he studies you, his anger gradually morphing into confusion as you remain stubbornly, infuriatingly unresponsive. The realization dawns on him, and he spouts a series of low, irritated curses under his breath. The invisible bindings are cleaved, and you stumble slightly, blinking against the sudden freedom.

A laugh bursts from your lips. “You absolute idiot,” you taunt.

He crosses his arms, his brows pinching together as he glowers at you. “Careful,” he warns menacingly, though the confidence in his tone is maddeningly firm. “I could toss you back over the Styx anytime I like, and this time, I would not hesitate.” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing with a cruel glint. “Though, perhaps, you enjoy tempting fate?”

“Oh, do go on,” you reply, lifting your chin to meet his gaze, feigning a sweet innocence you know he loathes. “For all your bluster, here I am—perfectly unscathed.” You take a single, daring step closer, crossing your own arms in mockery. “What’s stopping you?”

He snorts, shaking his head with a sneer. “Absolutely, nothing. You would do well to remember that, pet. Do you know how to summon the Ferryman or not?”

You grin, savouring the upper hand, if only briefly. “I do, actually. Be warned, there’s a cost. Nothing’s free in the Hells.”

Astarion rolls his eyes, exuding the kind of casual arrogance that makes you itch to wipe the smirk right off his face. “Do I look like someone concerned with petty tolls?”

“Fine then.” You gesture at him with a dismissive wave. “If you’re so unconcerned, use those fancy ascended powers and summon a werewolf. We’ll need to give the Styx something… lively.”

His eyes blaze, igniting in that baleful scarlet glow. He takes a step toward you, as if to see if you’ll flinch, but you don’t give him the satisfaction. Shadows converge, pooling on the ground, twisting together until a werewolf emerges from the inky pit.

Before the beast can even fully realize its predicament, Astarion shoves it with a careless hand, sending it tumbling headfirst into the river. The werewolf’s struggles cease within an eye blink; the waters swallow it whole with a miserable howl.

Charon heeds your call. His boat materializes out of the mist, the vessel itself a thing of twisted, shadowed wood, seeming both ancient and unbreakable. Lanterns hang from the prow, casting a sickly green light, illuminating the hooded figure standing on the deck, his skeletal face hidden beneath layers of ragged cloth. Hollow eyes stare back at you, empty yet somehow penetrating, as though he’s peeling back your flesh to see what’s left of your soul.

Charon’s ancient voice scrapes against the air like a dare for the foolish to press their luck. “Who disturbs my waters?”

Astarion straightens, stepping forward with a grin that borders on insolent. “We need to travel to Abriymoch.”

You start to nod but pause, frowning as you turn to Astarion. “Abriymoch? Why Abriymoch, when the goal is Cania?”

Astarion’s gaze threshes with annoyance, as if the answer should be painfully obvious. “Cania is cold, dearest,” he snaps with a seemingly endless supply of condescension. “I doubt you would survive more than a second, or have you forgotten what bitter cold does to fragile, little creatures like yourself?”

“Payment,” Charon intones while outstretching his hand.

Charon’s long, skeletal finger points expectantly at the coin purse on Astarion's belt. When Astarion upends it, the coins that fall into Charon’s palm are woefully insufficient. The ferryman’s hollow gaze shifts from Astarion’s hopeful grin to the pathetic stack of coin. You’re not quite sure how he does it, given that his face is hidden, set deep into the hood of his robes, but somehow he still manages to convey that he’s clearly unimpressed.

Astarion’s face twists in vexation for a second before he pastes on a charming, winning smile, speaking in that too-smooth tone that he’s perfected over centuries. “Now, now,” he begins in a timbre of molten caramel, “Surely we could arrange a little... discount?" Think of the potential business lost.”

You snort, earning a glare. He clearly has no clue who he’s dealing with. Charm, to Charon, is about as useful as a torch in broad daylight, and your smile only widens as the silence drags. Until Charon’s skull shifts, the hollow sockets locking onto you with that unreadable yet thoroughly unsettling stare.

Without hesitation, Astarion sidesteps in front of you, arms crossed, his voice suddenly much sharper. “She’s off limits.” His tone is clipped, ice sliding into his words as his stance shifts, protective in a way you’re sure he’d deny if questioned.

Charon’s hand turns to you, bony fingers stretching forward. “The quarterstaff,” he rasps. “Your only weapon.”

The weight of his demand settles on you. The staff may not be essential to your magic, but it is far from useless. Crafted with centuries-old enchantments, it heightens your power, steadies your aim, and forms a formidable buffer against hostile spells and attacks. Without it, you’ll face Mephistopheles with only raw magic—far less than what you'd need against a devil of his calibre.

You reach behind your head, fingers curling around the polished wood. You hesitate, running your thumb along its smooth surface, feeling the faint pulse of the magic woven through it. The thought of surrendering it here on this cursed voyage makes you feel more vulnerable somehow, but the price has been set.

With a sigh, you lock eyes with Charon as you make your request. “For both our tolls. It should cover the both of us.”

Charon tilts his head, an eerie slowness to the movement, as though he’s testing the limits of his joints. “Your toll,” he grates, “has been paid. The quarterstaff is for him.” He gestures to Astarion, his fleshless hand clenching over your staff as you release it, and the very bones in his fingers seem to absorb it whole, leaving nothing in his palm.

A shiver of dread slithers down your spine. Someone has paid your toll already, but who? For what purpose? You feel the cold press of a debt that hasn’t yet been named, lurking in the shadows of the future, waiting to demand payment at the worst possible occasion. Whoever or whatever wants you to descend further into the Hells is watching, and the motives they harbour are anything but benign.

“Well, lovely,” you mutter, shaking off the creeping unease. “You owe me a bloody quarterstaff when we get back.”

Astarion gives you a sidelong glance. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage to 'repay’ you somehow. Really, though, such a fuss over a stick.” He smirks, gesturing for you to board with smug self-assurance. “Don’t fret, pet. If anything happens, I’ll protect you,” he taunts with that annoyingly, adorable shimmy of his shoulders.

Stepping onto Charon’s boat, you try to shake off the lingering foreboding. The journey ahead feels heavier now, as if the very air knows there’s more to come—more than Astarion’s schemes, more than the unforgiving path before you. As the boat begins to drift away, you find yourself wondering, once more, just how many prices are yet to be paid before this journey’s end.

The boat sways gently, a sickening lilt over the Styx, far too quiet, save for the occasional slosh and the sighing rasp of Charon’s oar cutting through the murk. The vessel itself is small, built only for the ferryman and the unfortunate souls he transports. Despite the lack of space, you do your best to keep away from Astarion, tucking yourself into a corner like a shadow clinging to the edges. Thinking is hard enough without him leeching the air from your lungs with his presence.

You press your forehead to your knees, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to block out the Styx’s ghastly presence—the stench of decaying flesh wafting up from the water, the whispering howl that rushes past your ears, sounding far too much like tortured souls crying out from the depths. You concentrate to stop the insistent, absurd habit of breathing, one left over from life that your body clings to out of muscle memory.

Your fingers drift to the cold, metal band circling your finger, tracing the familiar shape of your wedding ring. It’s oddly grounding here in this place of perpetual suffering and loss. Astarion still doesn’t know that you agreed to kill Mephistopheles. No, he wouldn’t understand, or he’d laugh, or worse, he’d start plotting ways to use it against you. What in the Nine Hells were you thinking? Killing an archdevil? The very notion teeters on the fringes of madness, a suicide mission that all but guarantees your annihilation.

But what choice do you have? You need your husband back, the real Astarion, not this corrupt echo, who looms at the edge of his memories, seemingly more intent on tearing down what little is left of who he once was.

Would this version help you, or would he truly try to sell you for a taste of power or some useless, momentary prestige? Or is his aim far worse, perhaps, to entirely erase the part of himself that loves you? It’s an exhausting riddle, one that seems pointless to try and solve, yet you can’t help but turn it over, sifting through the fragments for a clue. You bite back a scoff directed at yourself. How many times will you wager your life for the slim hope of bringing him back?

A soft scrape pulls you from your thoughts; Astarion shifts, his gaze flitting your way, cool and calculating. It’s a look that would have cut you once—a knife glinting with contempt—but now it barely scratches the surface.

You meet his gaze, unflinching, letting whatever spark of defiance you have left answer him in silence, and then you look away, back into the ichor waters swirling beneath the boat, wondering if the Styx itself has answers for impossible questions.

The thump of a hovering heartbeat cuts through your thoughts. Before you have a chance to shore up your defences, Astarion drops down beside you, his assessing gaze surveying your expression. Typical. He never seems to tire of prodding at your vulnerabilities, but godsdamn him if it’s not infuriatingly familiar.

“Looking a bit peaky, aren’t we?” He leers, almost playfully. “Must be absolutely famished for blood by now. I’m impressed, really. When I was a fledgling spawn, I couldn’t go more than a day before I was tearing at anything that moved.”

It’s rare and unsettling to hear him talk about his past like that—the spawn he was. He usually keeps that part buried under layers of sneers and silences, as if even acknowledging it gives it some hold over him. You’re tempted to dig deeper, to pry a little more of his history loose, but you fear it would only serve to provoke him.

You meet his gaze. “Are you volunteering, then? Because I can assure you, I’d be delighted to take you up on that.”

His lip curls instantly. “Don’t flatter yourself.” A breathy scoff escapes him, his gaze returning to the Styx’s grim horizon. “As if I’d willingly offer you a single drop of my precious blood. I've got better things to do than play juice box to the likes of you.”

A nagging unease tugs at you, a quiet dissonance that’s hard to ignore. You should be hungry, ravenous even. By now, your muscles should be cramping, your stomach an insatiable pit of bloodlust clawing for relief. But instead? Nothing. No gnawing hunger, no pain, no pulsing ache for sustenance.

The realization hits like a frozen blade slipping between your ribs. Shit. It had been him, your Astarion, who’d woven the compulsion to dampen your hunger on the day you married. You’d asked him, pleaded even, for a reprieve, so you wouldn’t use Shadowheart as a chew toy… again.

He’d agreed hesitantly, binding the compulsion tightly, giving you peace. This version wouldn’t know. He couldn’t. You pray to whatever gods may still listen that it stays that way.

A blessing, yes, but a curse all the same. If that compulsion is lifted—should he ever discover it and decide to sever it—there’s no question in your mind what will happen. You’ll become little more than a wild, unhinged beast.

This Astarion can’t know about it, not if you want even a hope of holding onto whatever tattered fragments of control you have left. His suspicious eyes rake over you, probing for answers. He’s too close already, picking up on the smallest tremor of unease. There’s no choice but to bury it, shoving the truth into a corner and throwing up a veil of sardonic humour.

“Oh, please,” you say with a feigned, dramatic sigh, “is it so hard for you to believe that I simply have an iron will? Not all of us lose our minds after a day without blood, you know. Some of us have restraint.”

He scoffs, one elegant brow arching. “Restraint? You? How delightfully unbelievable, but I suppose even delusions can be entertaining in moderation.”

You shrug. “Believe what you like, darling.”

His eyes narrow, lips twisting in a wicked smirk as he leans in closer. “I know you are hiding something,” he murmurs dangerously. “And, just like any little secret, it’ll reveal itself sooner or later. They always do.”

Your heart clenches, but you force a laugh, flicking him a dismissive gesture of your hand as if it might distract him. “Please. As if there’s anything left that you don’t know already. I’m not that interesting.”

“Not that interesting?” He clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment. “Pity. I thought I’d married a woman with more… substance.”

The barb slides off your skin easily, his attempts to dig through your defensesces meeting only laughter and barbed retorts. He leans in closer, his gaze drilling into yours with a relentless edge. You keep his focus on the banter, his questions pinging off you like arrows against steel. He tries again, baiting you with sly insinuations, but each time, you deflect to keep the true answer buried.

After a while, he sighs with frustration, muttering something, and you—you just keep smiling, hoping he’ll grow tired of the game before he sees through the cracks.

“When we reach Abriymoch, you will stay at my side at every moment. You will not wander off. You will not do anything that could get you—or more importantly, me—killed.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but it’s that lack of compulsion that tempts you to prod, just a little, testing his limits.

“Is that an order or a plea?” you ask, with feigned sweetness, watching his eyes narrow. “Or are you just that desperate to keep me close?”

He sneers, his patience peeling away. “Desperate? If anything, I would relish some peace and quiet. The only reason I’m keeping you tethered to my side is to prevent you from running off and making an absolute mess of things.” He leans closer, his gaze gleaming like a blade in the dark. “I will not have you ruining my plans with your foolish bravado.”

“Good to know I’m just the sidekick in this little venture.”

He scoffs, the sound colder than any rejection. “That is giving yourself too much credit. Sidekick? More like a leashed pet. A liability. Don’t fool yourself—you are not here because I need you. You’re here because I allow it.”

“Is that so?” You lift an eyebrow, refusing to look away, fingers tapping your lips as if contemplating. “Does it help you sleep at night, reassuring yourself you’ve got me on a leash?”

He laughs humorlessly. “If you so much as think of straying too far in Abriymoch, I’ll find you and drag you back like the disobedient creature you are, and believe me,” his gaze dips, cruel pleasure filling his eyes, “you will regret testing me.”

The words hang between you like a drawn blade, and yet you refuse to drop your grin. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Keep up the attitude, my sweet, sweet spawn, and you might get exactly what you’re asking for.”

You bask in the strange exhilaration that comes with losing your fear of him. There was a time when you would have trembled at the thought of Astarion's wrath, certain he would seize any opportunity to end you, but he hasn’t acted on his never-ending festivity of threats. Not once.

It’s intoxicatingly liberating, this absence of dread. Is it bravery or mere folly? Is this newfound audacity a testament to your strength, or simply the product of your own stupidity? Love or compulsion?

As you mull it over, Astarion’s laughter pierces your reverie. “Oh, do tell. I’d love to know what grand notions are swirling about in that lovely head of yours.” He leans in closer, crimson eyes bleeding malice and amusement. “Or are you merely concocting yet another excuse for your impending doom?”

You narrow your gaze at him. “I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you? A tragic ending to the tale of us. Such a deliciously dark story.”

He smirks, tilting his head with mock innocence. “I live for tragic endings, my treasure, but I’d prefer you to survive a little longer—if only to entertain me.” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, as though sharing a secret meant for your ears alone. “After all, it would be terribly dull without your delightful, little insights. I must admit, your attempts at defiance are more amusing than I anticipated.”

You roll your eyes, both flattered and frustrated. “Awe, Astarion! You think I’m entertaining? Or just a distraction?”

“Can it not be both?” He straightens, feigning a serious demeanorur, but the mischief is palpable. “Your company has its charms, more than you think, though I do wish you would stop moping about your fate like a sullen child. It’s rather unbecoming.”

“Funny coming from you, of all people,” you retort. “You seem to enjoy playing the tragic villain, parading about with your dramatic flair.”

Astarion chuckles richly with sardonic undertones. “Ah, but that’s the beauty of it! I am both the villain and the narrative’s most charming rogue. Quite the duality, wouldn’t you say?”

You can’t help but wonder if the thrill is merely an illusion, a temporary reprieve before the inevitable plunge. You glance at the swirling waters of the Styx, feeling a strange sense of kinship with the murky depths. After all, you are both trapped in this twisted narrative.

“What is it, love? You seem awfully lost in thought.”

“I’m trying to decide how best to navigate this mess,” you say, forcing a lightness into your tone.

“Oh, come now,” he coaxes, his voice silky smooth. “You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited. The peril, the uncertainty—how could that not pique your interest?”

“It’s hard to be excited when I’m not sure whether you’ll save me or throw me to the wolves.”

Astarion leans closer, his breath ghosting against your skin. “Perhaps a little of both, depending on my mood.”

You’re not sure if you should feel exhilarated or terrified by that, but a wicked resolve blooms. Fuck this. Fuck fear. Fuck his threats and, most importantly, fuck him. Maybe you’ll turn this chaotic situation into a thrill ride before he sells you off, or you end up dead trying to save him. With a playful determination, you crawl into his lap, relishing the surprised expression on his face.

Astarion’s eyes widen, an amalgamation of bewilderment and indignation. “What in the Hells do you think you’re doing?” he protests, an incredulous edge to his voice. Yet, despite his protests, he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he shifts to accommodate your unexpected move.

“Just getting comfortable,” you say, settling into his lap with exaggerated drama, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

Astarion’s protests continue, his voice rising with a mock outrage. “This is ridiculous! You cannot just—” He stops, a flicker that looks suspiciously like mirth crossing his face. “What makes you think you can crawl into my lap like some—some pet?” He narrows his eyes, but you can see the way his lips twitch upward despite himself. “You do realize you’re playing with fire, don’t you? I could toss you into the Styx without a second thought.”

You nod. “I’m well aware, but isn’t that the best part?”

“No, it’s not,” he retorts, but even as he says it, his arms wrap around you, drawing you closer as if to shield you. “You think this is a game, don’t you? This reckless behaviorur—”

“Hush now,” you coo, your fingers playfully clamping over his lips, silencing him mid-rant. “Let’s not ruin this with your whingeing. We should rest while we can before we reach Abriymoch.”

You let your eyes fall shut, perhaps idiotically placing trust in him that he hasn’t earned or deserves.

He tips his head, and you shudder involuntarily as his lips brush over your ear, a tantalizing whisper carried on his breath. “I’m far too excited for that,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, a deep chuckle vibrating against your skin.

Astarion bucks his hips into you boldly, pressing his growing arousal into your backside. You tut him, shaking your head playfully. “You can keep your excitement to yourself. You stink.”

He feigns indignation, drawing back as if you’ve slapped him. “What in the Hells do you mean by that?”

You goad him further. “Oh, I forgot! There haven’t been any mirrors for you to admire yourself in lately. But honestly, you’re terribly dirty and smelly. It’s quite a shame, really.”

A chuckle escapes him in a huff, almost as if he were trying to hold it back. “And you, my dear, aren’t in much better shape yourself. One could hardly mistake you for an ethereal beauty right now.”

You lift your chin defiantly, the corner of your mouth twitching upward. “I did not hear any complaints when you were putting your mouth all over me.”

His eyes round with surprise, intrigue frolicking around in his irises. “Ah, but you see, that’s where you’re mistaken. My tastes are quite refined, but I assure you, I can overlook a certain... foulness for the right incentives.”

“Oh, really?” You challenge, your intonation teasing. “What exactly qualifies as the right incentive, Astarion?”

He raises an eyebrow, a sly smile curling on his lips. “Why, the allure of your blood, for one. It’s a shame I can’t indulge in that right now, but rest assured, the moment I can, I won’t be distracted by such trifles as your unfortunate aroma.”

You laugh lightly, the sound mingling with the ominous whispers of the Styx, creating a strange harmony. “How positively noble of you. I’ll be sure to clean up for you the next time you wish to drain me dry then.”

Astarion rolls his eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. I wouldn’t want you to exhaust yourself with such trivialities. Besides, there’s something delightfully raw about you right now.”

“Raw? That’s one way to put it,” you snort. “More like I’ve just crawled out of a hellish pit.”

Astarion arches an eyebrow, his lips curling into that infuriatingly charming simper. “So, tell me,” he asks suggestively, “what would you award me with should I locate the hellish version of an inn in Abriymoch? One with a bathtub and a real bed, perhaps?”

You tilt your head teasingly. “Maybe nothing, maybe everything. You’ll just have to find one and find out.”

He slides an elegant finger beneath your chin, tilting your gaze upward to meet his. An electric current crackles between you as his eyes bore into yours, searching. You can’t remember a time he has looked at you quite like this.

“Perhaps you’ll make it worth my while,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a velvet whisper, laced with a sweetness that feels almost foreign.

Then, before you can fully process what’s happening, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. It’s soft, hesitant at first, a whispered caress of silk against your skin as if he’s trying to learn how to be gentle. The wind’s mournful howl quiets into the background as the warmth of his mouth envelops you. The taste of him is faintly sweet, albeit tinged with a perilous promise.

As his kiss deepens, it transforms into urgency yet undeniably delicate, a frisk of warmth and hunger that sends a shiver cascading down your spine. His hands cradle your face, thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. It’s a contrast to the jagged edge of his usual countenance, revealing a tenderness that leaves you breathless and confused. When he finally pulls away, his eyes flutter open, and you catch a glimpse of the shifting within them—flickering like the last embers of a dying fire. It dims quickly as he seems to wince, squeezing his eyes shut with a sharp intake of breath.

You think you even hear a faint whimper, or perhaps a whine, but the wind whips it away before you can grasp it fully. The raw vulnerability in that sends a rush of concern through you, an instinct to reach out and soothe whatever pain he’s hiding.

As if propelled by some force beyond your understanding, you whisper the words before you can stop yourself. “I love you.”

Astarion’s eyes anchor to you. He doesn’t reply—not that you expected him to, but he doesn’t rebuke you either. He shifts slightly, pulling you closer, so your head rests comfortably beneath his chin. His breaths heave and shutter, fingers digging into your arms with a grip that feels protective, possessive, perhaps a blend of both.

The chaos of the Hells continues to unfurl around you, grotesque and magnificent, swirling shades of crimson and obsidian merging like an artist's palette gone awry. Astarion's hold on you is firm, and the rhythmic beating of his heart—so wonderfully alive—thumps against your ear. It’s a reassuring reminder of the life that flows within him, the life you helped return to him, and you find yourself momentarily lost in the sound.

In this surreal blend of desolation and intimacy, you finally allow yourself to relax, surrendering to the strange safety of his embrace. As the boat drifts further toward Abriymoch, fate—whether toward doom or salvation—awaits you.

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things.

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

- Oh, thank fuck he didn't drop her. - So, how is everybody enjoying the Hells thus far?

[gatheredfates]

Complete with a graphic this time, how quaint! This may or may not be permanent; I am testing things.

Anyway, hello! For those unacquainted: my name is Sea and I have a habit of taking on far too many community projects. This is one of my single-word fic prompts, launched 4/24, to encourage more spontaneous writing amongst FFXIV creatives. ✨

What is a fic drive, Sea?

By liking/reblogging this post, you consent for me to go into your askbox to send a one-word prompt generated from this website, picked from a selection of five, as a prompt for you to write to for your OC(s)! I also reblog any and all completed works to my character question tag, which can be found here.

There is no word limit, no time limit and you are welcome to ask for another prompt if the original one doesn't vibe. This is all about giving you the opportunity to explore a concept or part of your character you might not have considered otherwise!

Unlike my bigger character question drives, these single-word fic drives are opened in small bursts. To that end, this drive is considered open until my Sunday night, April 28. I have created a countdown timer here OR you can join my Discord at SEAFLOOR! where I will utilise the Discord timestamp feature (please note you must be 21+ to join and adhere to all the rules therein).

Have a great day/night!

[prettygirlpaige]

Intro post

Minors do not interact. If you are under 18, you shouldn’t be anywhere near this blog. I don’t care if you’re almost 18 or “mature for your age”, fuck off as I’m not risking anything for you.

I’m a 28 year old cis female with a lot of kinks that range from mild to pretty hardcore. I’ve put a (reasonably) full list below but my main kinks involve non-consent/rapeplay, objectification and dumbification.

Also have a huge praise kink so if you call me a good girl, chances are I’ll do most things.

DMs and anonymous asks are open, message me if you want to chat or send me an ask if you have a scenario or fantasy you’d like to share.

**Please don’t ask me to send you pictures or to post specific pictures for you as I’m not going to. All pictures have the tag ‘prettygirlpaige’ on them so you can find them by searching my blog.**

Full list of kinks and limits below and my kink test percentages:

Kinks

- Non-consent/ rapeplay/ forced

- Objectification

- Degradation/humiliation

- Anything to do with me giving oral (throat fucking, face fucking, face sitting)

- Praise kink

- Exhibitionism

- Anything in public

- Medical/gyno

- Breeding/pregnancy/lactation/hucow

- Free use

- Trad-wife/housewife

- Bondage

- Sensory deprivation

- Anal play

- Spit

Limits

- Nipple play/torture

- Piss, shit, blood etc

- Extreme name-calling (i.e. don’t call me a slut in your first message, it will be deleted)

- Incest

- Extreme pain/violence (including using instruments such as whips, discussing piercings, brandings, tattoos)

- Any mention of cutting or shaving my hair

== Results from bdsmtest.org ==

98% Submissive

98% Rope bunny

91% Degradee

81% Exhibitionist

79% Non-monogamist

79% Boy/Girl

77% Brat

75% Voyeur

75% Slave

71% Experimentalist

70% Primal (Prey)

70% Masochist

66% Pet

47% Ageplayer

30% Vanilla

4% Rigger

4% Primal (Hunter)

3% Degrader

0% Daddy/Mommy

0% Brat tamer

0% Dominant

0% Master/Mistress

0% Owner

0% Sadist

0% Switch

[clockwaysadmin]

Like Betta Fish Do

FINISHED

Ship: Dead on Main, Danny Fenton/Jason Todd

cw: Canon-Typical Violence, Abduction, Play Fighting, Lazarus Pit Side Effects

Danny had ended up trespassing in Jason's haunt. He didn't mean to. Total accident, he swears. (He blames Johnny.) So he bought the other halfa a basket of bathbombs and chocolate as a 'sorry, please don't disembowel me' gift. It was the proper thing to do, alright? Everything was going to be just fine. Then things got a little out of hand.

If you're new to the series, I would strongly recommend reading it on Ao3! The Ao3 version has been rewritten, edited, and beta read.

All things related to this fic can be found in the 'like betta fish do' tag on @clockwayswrites. Major links are below. Also linked is the cover art I've done for each chapter and any gift art!

Chapter 1: Part 1 and prompt, Part 2, art Chapter 2: Part 3, Part 4, art Chapter 3: Part 5, Part 6, art Chapter 4: Part 7, art Chapter 5: Part 8, art Chapter 6: Part 9, art Chapter 7: Part 10, art, gift art Chapter 8: Part 11, art Chapter 9: Part 12, art Chapter 10: Part 13, art Chapter 11: Part 14, art Chapter 12: Part 15, art Chapter 13: Part 16, art Chapter 14: Part 17, art, gift art Chapter 15: Part 18, art Chapter 16: Part 19, art, gift art, gift art Chapter 17: Part 20, art Chapter 18: Part 21, art Chapter 19: Part 22, art Chapter 20: Part 23, art Chapter 21: Part 24, art Chapter 22: Part 25, art Chapter 23: Part 26 Chapter 24: Part 27 Chapter 25: Part 28 Chapter 26: Part 29 Chapter 27: Part 30/Final

Here's also some tests of me playing around with Danny's look for this AU. And the og cover art. Non chaptered gift art.

[steviewashere]

27,28,32 Eddie finds out he’s pregnant and tells Steve

Oooo, okay, I had so much fun with this one! And, get this, it's not almost three thousand words!

27: "I'm pregnant.", 28: "Marry me?", 32: "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Trans Eddie Munson, FTM Eddie Munson, Pregnant Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Marriage Proposal, Pregnancy Announcement

————— This is definitely not how Eddie thought he’d start his day.

He’s in the bathroom of his and Steve’s apartment, just sat with his head in his hands to accommodate the wave of nausea that overcame him. And that’s when he got the smart idea that…well, maybe he should figure out why he’s been so sick the last week or so. Steve’s still asleep in their bed. Came home late from work, wanted to sleep in on his day off, and already knew that Eddie was sick.

But didn’t know that it was because Eddie’s period was late. He had a sneaking suspicion that there was something wrong, when he didn’t have to put a pad in his underwear, but he thought it could be from PCOS or something unrelated. It’s not. Which is evident in the stupid plastic stick in his shaking hands, lightly glistening from his own urine, and definitely showing two prominent dark pink lines. He’s crying at eight in the morning, holding a stick in his hand, sick to his stomach, and shaking.

Whimpering, he knows that there’s no way he can avoid this. Steve is too observant for his own good. He’ll figure out something’s wrong or changed. And he’ll be too good, too sweet, and Eddie knows he’ll run. So he’s going to face this. Just like he did with the demobats. Facing this is half the battle. Finding out Steve’s reaction is the other half.

He exits the bathroom, stick in hand, but stops short in the open space of their room. At Steve on his belly, snoring smooth into his pillow, blanket pooled at his waist, nude skin golden with sunlight that peers through the window. God, he’s so beautiful; Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself if Steve rejects all of this. Carefully, he gets back in bed quietly, not even jostling Steve’s body. He sets the test on his bedside table, hovers a hand over Steve’s back, and swallows down the soft sob that wants to override him.

Gently, he runs a languid stripe down Steve’s spine. “Baby,” he whispers, “Stevie, sweetheart? I need you to get up.” He takes a stuttering breath as Steve stirs, rolling over on his right side, blinking his eyes sleepily. Steve yawns, stretches, rubs fists over his eyes. A pout present on his features. Eddie feels awful for having to wake him up so early, but he thinks he’ll throw up if he has to keep this a secret any longer. “Okay,” he exhales. His breath shutters. “Okay, Steve, I need you to listen to me.”

At that, Steve blinks completely awake. Sits himself up against his pillow. Hands already grasping for Eddie’s. Face blank of anything teasing. Eyes going soft and concerned and imploring.

“Um—I—I think I’m in love with you—“

Steve chuckles. “Baby, I already knew that,” he lightly teases. But the small quirk he had to his lips dissipates almost as soon as it appeared, falling into the space between them.

Eddie nods anyway. “—And I’m terrified,” he admits. “I’m really fucking scared right now, but I know that I love you. I know that you love me, but I…” He tears one of his hands out of Steve’s grip, runs it harshly over his face, and curses softly, “Fuck.”

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, “You’re okay. Take your time, babe.”

“I’m pregnant,” he rushes out. “Steve, I’m…I’m pregnant. I don’t know how it happened. Must’ve missed my birth control a few times? Maybe I—I’m probably just fucking stupid and miscalculated when my period was supposed to happen. I’m sorry if this is—“

“Really?” Steve asks, breathless.

That’s when Eddie notices he wasn’t looking at Steve. Drags his eyes from their hands, the blanket that swamps him, and up to Steve’s…excited eyes? Shining and happy. He’s smiling, the small crinkles by his eyes are all too noticeable. Smile lines deep. All his teeth are showing. He releases a sigh of relief, nodding.

“Oh my God!” Steve exclaims, bouncing the bed with it. “Holy shit! That’s awesome, Eds. That’s so…Wait.” He pauses. Movement stilling. He’s half off the bed, angling for his bedside drawer, and reaching to Eddie, too. “Unless…Do you want this? I’m really excited for this, but I only want this if you want to.”

“I…” Eddie looks off to the side momentarily. He’s a bit afraid, honestly. Of what may happen with his body. What he may have to go through. The absolute uncomfortableness that he’ll have to endure, but…He’s thought about this before and been excited about it, too. Kids weren’t always ideal to him, not really. But having a kid with somebody he considers the love of his life, who’s looking at him like a puppy awaiting a bone toss, he’s content with whatever happens next. “Yeah, Stevie, I think I do,” he murmurs, “But only with you. With anybody else, I think I’d shrivel up and die.”

At that, Steve bounds off the mattress and disappears down their hallway, clambering about their living room. He rushes back in, careless of the neighbors below them, and skitters to a stop in front of Eddie. Slams his butt back down on the bed, hand gripping something, taking both of Eddie’s hands.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” Steve pants. “Like, seriously, insane.”

“Okay,” Eddie says slowly, “You’re scaring me a little, baby.”

He can see Steve swallow harshly. “Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly. “I just—This is crazy. I’m crazy. So, like we were close friends for a really long time before we got together,” he begins first. Gesturing with their conjoined hands between them. “And I knew that you were somebody I wanted in my life, no matter what we were. I knew that, like, day one? So, when we started dating, I had a feeling deep down that you were it for me.”

His eyes dart very briefly as if searching for words. He bites down on his bottom lip and works his breathing to be set normal. Eddie didn’t even realize he was still panting until he fully relaxes in how he sits.

“In our second week of dating, I got this insane idea. Went out to the mall with Robin, dragged her to the nearest jewelry store, and made them figure out the size of one of your rings. The ones you put on your ring fingers,” Steve explains softly. He grabs for whatever is in his left hand, fidgeting with it so that only he can see it, and then turns it around for Eddie to finally peer at. It’s a small, blue, velvet box. “We don’t have to do anything about this immediately. Whatever you want, I want. You’re one of my best friends. My romantic soulmate. And I love you beyond belief. So…Marry me?” He asks, enamored and giddy.

The box opens. Revealing the shiniest silver ring Eddie’s ever seen. It’s not that thick, a simple thing, doesn’t have anything added to it. But to know that it was made to his exact size, that’s something he carries warmly inside his chest.

He looks back up to Steve. “Yes!” He exclaims. “Are you…You’ve had this since week two? I can’t believe you right now, baby. Holy—“ And he takes the ring from the box, lets Steve slide it on his left ring finger, and just admires at it.

“I can’t believe that I get to be a dad, too, Eds. You’re the love of my life. This is…Fuck sleeping, lets celebrate!”

“Oh, how do you plan to do that? Because I could just sit here and fucking ogle this forever, Stevie.”

“I’ll show you how excited I am, how about that?” Steve teases. His eyes hood, cheeks flush pink, and Eddie knows he’s the happiest man alive right now. Well, other than the darling man in front of him. The pure giddy excitement on his face is something special.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 28 – HISTORICAL FICS

In Amore Veritas by FestiveFerret

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 3,903 Tags: Truth Serum, Class Difference, Reconnecting

Summary: Prince Tony creeps down to the stables one night to meet with his best friend, Steve, one of the stable boys. It's something they do often, but this time, Tony has something special hidden in the wraps of his cloak.

Reasons why I love it: Oh, you poor, silly boys. I'm so glad they cleared up their misunderstanding in the end, because those two idiots deserve each other. This fic is super sweet and fluffy, and I bet you'll love it just as much as I do!

as you have honored them by Areiton

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 1,734 Tags: Fantasy AU, Forced Marriage, Protective Steve

Summary: He sits in his chambers, silent as the three serving automans paint his body, gold and crimson. There are the sigils of the Crown that is his birthright, and the ones of Stone’s own kingdom. There are, too, the traditional sigils, of a bride, of the nine gods and the six kingdoms.

Reasons why I love it: Don't mind me, I'm just over here, screaming incoherently into the void. This fic is SO GOOD, oh my god! I love all of the symbolism and the blessings and the ENDING, fuck yes! I really hope you go and read this one if you haven't, because it's phenomenal!

Tribute Given, Treasure Gained by sphagnum

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 12,051 Tags: A/B/O, Power Imbalance, Tribute Tony

Summary: “Steve,” the Captain said, hand over his chest. Tony licked his lips. Was he supposed to give his name, or remain silent until he was asked a direct question? The Captain--Steve, apparently--already knew his name, he had to, it had been included on the settlement he and Stane had signed. Was this a test? Time was passing and Steve was still waiting with his hand on his chest but Tony had to figure out the right answer fast or when Steve moved he might-- “Tony,” he blurted. “Tony,” Steve repeated. He hadn’t come any closer. He said something short that might have been pleased to meet you or you look good on your knees. Tony had no way of knowing and he wasn’t going to risk echoing it. He kept quiet. See, Howard? I do know how to shut up when my life depends on it.

Reasons why I love it: The language barrier gives this story so much tension and intrigue, it's amazing! I love how gentle Steve is with Tony, mindful of his nerves to the very end, and Tony's musings about whether or not he can trust Steve are perfect. I love this fic so much, and you should definitely read it!

a myth to many by nanasekei

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: NR Words: 8,660 Tags: Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Medieval AU, Angst

Summary: “What I’m about to ask you has no relation to our alliance,” Rogers continues, his voice a lot steadier now. “I come here only in behalf of myself, and what I’m about to ask, I ask as a man, not as a soldier.” Howard feels as if he can see the anticipation growing in the room, almost as a cloud forming over them. The guards don’t bother hiding the shock in their expressions, and even Jarvis can’t fully disguise the curiosity, his eyebrows quirked. Rogers takes one short breath before locking his eyes with Howard’s. His blue gaze is almost peaceful in its resoluteness, as if there’s an element of inevitability in what he’s about to say. “I’m here to ask for your son’s hand.”

Reasons why I love it: Aaaah, the ending is so ominous, I love it! The choice to tell this story from Howard's perspective is brilliant. His inner monologue is fascinating, and it reveals so much about Tony's life as his son. And the last few paragraphs are an absolute gut-punch. I adore this one, and I hope you give it a shot for yourself!

Clan (of the Stranger and the Outcast) by greymantledlady

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 5,778 Tags: Stone Age AU, Hurt Tony, Protective Steve

Summary: The Stranger holds out his huge hand towards Tony, palm outwards and upwards. Tony watches him warily, baring his teeth a little, not yet a snarl but a warning. But the Stranger simply holds his hand there, waiting, waiting; and his knife is lying on the ground between them, and there is no threat in the lines of his body. Tony lets out a little breath he’s been holding. And he’s trembling, but he slowly reaches his own hand out, tentative and uncertain, and brushes the fingertips against the Stranger’s calloused palm. And the Stranger smiles a little, his eyes soft, and wraps his fingers around Tony’s. (The one where Neanderthal!Steve and Homo Sapiens!Tony imprint on each other like baby ducklings.)

Reasons why I love it: The way they communicate with each other in this one is so precious to me. I love the whole setting and how their culural differences come into play, it's super intriguing. Definitely check this one out, it's wonderful!

[sinfulauthorwrites]

Kinktober 2024 Day 28: Harness

The strap featured in this drabble is this one by Badassassassin, and the premise is based on this art by @snakeoid! (Love me some Butchlach!)

🩵 Many thanks to @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction for the prompts list! 🩵

Ship: Karlach x F!Tav/Reader

Word count: 102

Applicable Tags: Act 3 (Baldur’s Gate 3), Strap-Ons, Dildos, Leather, Pet Names, Light Teasing, Top Karlach, Bottom Reader, POV Second Person

“This is a real nice gift you got me, soldier.” Karlach adjusts the belts on the strap-on you had gifted her, worn, brown leather and gold spiked rings matching the armor she usually wore. “Might as well test it out! Shall we?” She centers the phallus you made of leftover infernal iron on her mound, the black metal shining with streaks of red from the light of the distant campfire.

“Always, my dear.” You lean in to kiss your tiefling lover passionately, stroking her as if it was her actual cock. She moans into you, rubbing it against your folds with eagerness.

Liked this and want more? Check the full Kinktober fic on my AO3 here!

[takemealivelh]

heart is gonna flatline || l.h.

tour puts luke and lucy's feelings to the test. addiction to sex, alcohol and weed for when things get hard. SMUT.

this was so fun to write ! loved to participate in the @5sos-fic-fest this year. hope you enjoy this. here's the ao3 link.

7.1 k

FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED

Prompt Au where the characters are both famous musicians with their own projects who have a well-documented public friendship. When they announce a tour together fans go crazy, as do the shippers. As the tour progresses, maybe the shippers are on to something…

Pop-rockers 5SOS and Latina indie-rocker Lucía Huerta announce tour together Last year, there were rumors about the frontman of the Australian band -Luke Hemmings, 27- and relatively new sensation Lucía "Lucy" Huerta, 28. They'd been caught leaving West Hollywood bars together, late at night, on numerous occasions. They put the speculation to a stop when in June 2023 Lucy uploaded an Instagram story of her and the blond having a drink. She tagged Hemmings and wrote "that's the homie", to which Luke replied in his own stories "that's me :)". They've been seen hanging out repeatedly since then, but it doesn't seem any more platonic than work friends. And speaking of work friends, 5 Seconds of Summer and Huerta just announced a 2024 tour that definitely excited fans, not just because of the vibrant shows they expect to see later in the year, but also because they want to see how the relationship of the two stars will develop during the four-month North American dates. Here at Music Getaway, we'll definitely keep a close eye on them.

-

"i'm not ready to tell them yet," lucy says to his boyfriend as she leaves the coffee cup on the kitchen counter next to them. they've been dating for eight months. it's been hard to hide their relationship from the press, and luke isn't too keen on the idea. he actually hates it. but he loves lucy. he loves that she's a talented musician, her laugh, her jokes and her business smarts. and he just can't enjoy this in peace, not with being so secretive.

"you've been saying that for months now. when are you gonna be okay with this? with us?" luke doesn't get it. why hide when they go out on dates and he can finally press a hand on her ass in public to stop the thirst traps people seem to tag her on. hoping to get a chance with her? fuck no. the blond wants her all to himself, he can't deny that.

lucy twists her lips, stalling. the smell of freshly brewed breakfast coffee dancing around them. "you don't understand." she finally says, reaching a hand to touch his arm for a few seconds. the thought of being out in the open with luke would change everything. "people will treat me differently. they might not respect me anymore."

"what are you talking about?"

"luke, come on. i got my own interview with kelly clarkson and then i played the iheartradio festival." they'd been incredible opportunities. "all of my hard work goes away the minute they know we're together. they'll say oh she was fucking the rockstar and he got her those big breaks. i don't want that. i don't want people to minimize my efforts."

luke sighs and shakes his head. "is that what's more important?" lucy shrugs. "okay," he finally says.

"okay?"

"yeah. it's fine. i get it. i won't bring it up again."

lucy throws her arms around his neck. "thank you," she whispers before kissing his lips softly. "i love you."

-

luke sits with ashton outside the rehearsal room. they've been playing for nearly two hours and they need a breather, especially because luke's mind is spinning. "i don't know, man. it sucks." they hear chattering on the other side of the door, a few guitar riffs and then laughter.

"of course it sucks, mate," ashton tells his friend. "she doesn't want to be in your shadow. it really fucking sucks and you better not fuck this up for her. you know how hard she's been working." he had grown fond of lucy. she was as much of a fan of drums as he was. he taught her a few fills and she invited him to do yoga and get high, ending up talking about how the unconscious force of creativity is beyond any of us. ashton doesn't want to see her heartbroken because of her boyfriend's, his best friend's inability to trust someone who really loves him.

-

luke's insecure, there's no question about that. after his marriage fell apart, he fell into a depression. and when he got better, he found this woman in the venue of the iheartradio festival, she was wearing cool sunglasses and stevie nicks-looking clothes. hippie goth he would've dared to say. they were watching the soundcheck of another band and started talking after she took out a cigarette from her backpack and asked him for a lighter.

"sorry, no. i don't smoke."

"that's okay," she smiled. 

that was all she said before looking for -and eventually finding- a lighter in the outside pocket of her small backpack.

the man looked up at the sky, the sun shining bright and the warm air of the field. he squinted one eye and turned to her. "they sound pretty good," he said of the band that was talking onstage, between songs. she nodded her head. "do you know them?"

"not personally, no," she replied and blew smoke out in a thin line. "but i've been a fan of them for a while now. they're one of my favorite indie bands."

that got them talking, eventually introducing themselves and catching up later after each other’s set. there was chemistry and flirting. luke's band immediately caught up to what was happening, when he said he was gonna congratulate lucy and be right back. but he didn't and it took them a full while to find him, thirty minutes before they went up and played.

-

"you got a lighter?"

calum nods and lights the cigarette for her. the smoking area of the building being a small parking lot.

"thanks," she breathes out. "you out here on your own?"

the bassist nods. "it's a good place to think."

lucy smiles and rolls her eyes. “cheesy,” she says with a grin.

"where's loverboy?" he asks, a cheeky smile on his face. calum was the first one to see them kissing. it was an afterparty at his band photographer's place. he'd gone to the kitchen when everyone started leaving, eight in the morning. when he went back to the living room with a cup of coffee, he saw lucy snuggled up to luke, smiling at him. luke smiled back and leaned in to kiss her. "aren't you guys glued to the hip anymore?"

lucy chuckles, "i don't know. there's... a lot happening."

"i'm listening."

"uh... okay. so... we decided to not tell everyone yet that we're dating. Not even with the tour. and i think he's mad at me."

"why do you say that?"

"he's been more... distant. and i don't know if that's what i wanted but it feels like... payback. like, you banned us and now i'm gonna make sure you feel it type of thing."

"i'm sure it's not that."

a bitter chuckle leaves her lips. "helpful as usual, cal."

-

cincinatti, first stop of the you don't go to parties tour. lucy had laughed when they first told her the name of the tour, but she eventually grew to like it and even embrace it. it's 6 pm and her soundcheck just ended. security lets fans in for a q&a with 5sos. she walks over to her boyfriend and smiles at him, wanting to kiss him good luck, or maybe just because she loves him. but luke stops her before she can even tilt her head up to reach his lips.

"we can't now. remember?"

it leaves her heart sore. she stands still as luke enters the stage and is greeted with the cheering of the fans. the rest of the guys are already seated on the small stairs of the set. she watches him ignore her and the questions about her. michael replies to one of them by saying she's our friend and we care for her and we're pretty inspired by her work as well, so it seemed like a good idea to, like, join forces and do this tour together.

lucy hopes luke will acknowledge her at some point, but he doesn't. when they start playing talk fast for the few lucky seventy fans in the audience, she twists her lips and leaves, heading backstage.

-

he doesn't see her until she's onstage again, playing her set of amazing songs for the 16,000 people attending the show. they dance and scream the lyrics back to her. she plays her guitar and sings with her raspy grunge-style voice over the indie-pop-rock arrangements her backing band provides. his heart beats faster as she approaches the microphone and starts talking.

"and thank you to my friends in 5sos who have been kind enough to invite me to co-headline this tour. the you don't go to parties tour seemed a little odd to me at first because this is definitely a party, isn't it?" she smiles as the crowd cheers. "so thank you guys," lucy turns to the left of the stage and sees luke standing next to her guitar tech. "i really fucking love you."

-

because of technical issues, the band can't perform the whole setlist. sometimes it happens. ashton is always pissed. "they're missing the whole experience!"

"yeah, well. nothing we can do. venue told us we could do the whole hour and a half but because of the issue with the speakers, they can't last that long. you have to cut two songs."

the tour manager tries to hold this thing together as ashton and michael complain. calum offers suggestions.

"i guess we could lose um... we could lose babylon, right? just this once and... flatline maybe?" the bassist looks over at luke.

flatline is the one song they had never played live before and it’d be a surprise for the audience. especially because lucy would come onstage to sing it with them. play the rhythmic guitar while luke walks around, hyping up the crowd. they'd rehearsed it several times and she was excited about it. they both were. allegedly.

"sure," luke replies as he drinks a glass of tequila, setting it down on a table and making sure his guitar is properly tuned. "let's cut them."

michael and ashton look at each other and then at luke. the frontman shrugs and his friends tell the tour manager that they will cut babylon and flatline.

-

all of the musicians have separate rooms in the hotels. even luke and lucy. she'd insisted it'd be easier. luke hated it. and he didn't expect her to show up at his room, unannounced, with a frown on her forehead and breathing hard.

"you cut our song," she steps inside the white room with the white walls, white bed and white comforter. looking at luke, the woman crosses her arms.

"we had to," he simply states. as if he wasn't the one greenlighting the whole thing.

"you could've told me, though. i was looking stupid next to the stage, waiting for you to introduce me. and it never happened."

"is that all that matters to you? how you look in front of other people? we had to cut two songs, lucy. the surprise's gonna be even bigger in the next show. fans will appreciate that."

lucy twists her lips and walks straight past him towards the door. "you're an asshole," she says before closing it behind her.

-

the beginning of the flight to boston is awkward. the whole twelve -the bands and the crew- can sense the tension inside the plane. it stems from luke and lucy, obviously. when did everything get so uneasy?

twenty minutes into the duration of the flight, though, luke slides into the seat next to his girlfriend. she doesn't look at him.

"i should've told you."

"yeah, you should've."

her heart beats faster as he places a hand on her cheek, guiding her eyes towards his own. he looks inside the brown hues and decides he can't keep hurting her. but she hurt him first. he wants to grow up and let it go. it's proving to be harder than he thought. maturity hasn't caught up to him easily yet. "i'm sorry." she closes her eyes and luke leans in to kiss her. "i'm sorry," he repeats.

a hand on his wrist, lucy is sad. looking into his eyes makes her sad. "it's okay," she finally says.

-

"and now we've got a pretty special surprise for you," michael grins into the microphone as the whole venue screams. "it's time to invite lucy huerta back on stage!" he shouts with a smile.

luke thinks lucy looks so fucking edible in those tight pants and that see-through top. her smile is big as she waves to the audience and settles on the center of the stage, where luke usually is. he gets another microphone from one of the roadies before ashton counts to four with his hi-hat.

should've seen me like a year ago, year ago/i was someone you don't even know, even know/dark times kept me all alone, all alone/you were shining like a heart of gold, heart of gold

he steals glances at her as she smiles into the crowd that’s going wild, her acoustic guitar hanging from her shoulders. 

luke was depressed after the divorce, staying home and drinking himself to sleep. then he got his shit together (half of it at least), went to the studio and worked through his issues by writing songs. when he met lucy, luke thought she was the most wonderful person on the planet. she had the kindest heart and was an overall joy to have around. he sings the pre-chorus and is taken aback by her strong voice as she takes over the song with her playing and her singing.

ooh, i'm falling for the first time/heart is gonna flatline/now i can't even look at you/you're like staring at the sunshine, burning into my mind/now i can't even look at you

and she doesn't. she doesn't look at him as she sings, unlike rehearsals when they couldn't stop singing to each other. it breaks his heart, considering it's their song. he wrote this for her.

"thank you!" lucy shouts and then leaves the stage waving everybody goodbye.

-

after the show, luke showed up to her hotel room. the bands were out clubbing and when he heard lucy wasn’t gonna join them, he immediately took an uber back to where they were staying. 

“let me in, please,” he says after knocking on her door three times. when she finally appears, she’s wearing a towel around her body and another one around her hair. she looks tired. “can i come in?”

without saying a word, lucy steps aside and luke walks into her room. she closes the door behind her and approaches him. 

“talk to me,” he basically begs. reading her mind is like an unsolvable sudoku, the man can’t get his head around it. “I love you.”

“i love you, too,” she whispers, looking down at his messy converse sneakers. 

luke quickly grabs her face and kisses her. it’s passionate and arousing and she can feel herself melting under his touch. she knows they should actually talk about it, instead of making out and falling on the bed, her towels discarded somewhere on the floor. she can’t help it. they’re both sex addicts. lucy rips his thin black shirt open and kisses down his chest, leaving his skin wet with the droplets that run down her hair. his breathing grows heavier and his pants grow tighter in the crotch area. he closes his eyes as she trails the kisses back up to his face. “take it off,” she pleads and sits next to him. luke quickly reincorporates himself to toss his shirt, his slacks and his underwear out of the way. he’s big and pulsating and lucy swallows hard, he turns her on so much. 

when the last item of clothing hits the floor, one of his shoes, the man licks his upper lip and straddles her body, hovering over her. “you really want me, huh?” his smirk is cocky, as if he’s forgotten everything about these past few days. it’s like nothing ever happened and they’re still in their love bubble. she so desperately wants to go back to it, so she nods and wraps her arms around his neck, bringing him to her lips as she parts her legs. luke hooks an elbow on her knee and spreads her wider, watching her folds throb for him. so slick and ready. he kisses her once more before carefully dropping her leg onto the bed. “condom,” he says. “i need to fuck you now.”

lucy reaches out to the bag she keeps on the nightstand. eyeliner, pills and condoms. she hands him one and it doesn’t take long before his cock is ready. luke smirks and kisses her, lining himself against her entrance with one hand, he takes a deep breath and penetrates her.

her gasp shouldn’t come as a surprise, given that it’s the same sound every time, not at all used to having him being so big and thick yet, even after all these months. she closes her eyes and bites her lower lip as luke runs a hand through his damp curls, letting her adjust to his size. he groans as he feels her walls engulfing him. “i want you so much,” he offers a low moan and starts picking up the pace of his thrusts. bringing one of her legs over his shoulder, the man reaches a deeper spot that makes her moan out. 

“fuck,” she pants as the bed bounces underneath their bodies. luke’s strength and determination to fuck her stupid works. her eyes roll to the back and she digs her short nails into his naked back. “more,” she begs and is immediately met with a hand around her throat. “more,” her plead is inaudible as she feels like she can’t breathe from the pleasure.

luke’s pupils are dilated in a way she’s never seen before. he tightens her grip around her throat and around her leg. gulping down at the sight of his girl falling apart under him, he tries to restrain louder moans but how can he? how can he fuck her quietly when she looks and feels so fucking good? “say you’re mine,” he orders. “say you’re mine.”

-

the morning sun shines through the window and rests its light on lucy’s face. She scrunches her nose and opens her eyes. she’s lying on luke’s chest, they’re both naked. he doesn’t seem to notice her shifting. the woman looks up at him, wondering when things got so complicated. she loves him. she truly loves him. he’s the first man she’s ever loved, in a real way, not a platonic crush way. the fact that he makes her laugh and his skills when making music and also in bed are extraordinary. he’s a sensitive soul and it’s such a wonder when he lowers down the walls he builds up around people. letting them in but not all the way. not in the way he does with her. or did. “why can’t you trust me with your thoughts anymore?” lucy wonders in a soft whisper before pressing a kiss to his sternum and getting up. she goes to the bathroom and takes a shower. when she opens the door that leads to the bedroom, luke is up and scrolling through his phone. “hi,” she smiles softly. her boyfriend’s hair is a mess and there’s still sleep inside his eyes. 

“hey,” the man smiles back, putting his phone away. “flight’s at 6. you wanna do something today?”

lucy leans against the frame of the bathroom door. she crosses her arms in front of her chest and thinks for a moment while twisting her lips. “what do you have in mind?”

-

they both go down in the elevator, not touching, and it’s killing them. when they reach the hotel’s diner, they find calum and ashton sitting at one of the tables, drinking orange juice and eating bagels.

“you guys had fun last night,” calum smirks as the couple sits down with a plate of waffles and two cups of coffee.

lucy blushes and luke has to stop every inch of his urgent body to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “shut up,” they both say in unison. there’s a soft smile on their faces.

after michael drops by to have a quick breakfast and then leaves to facetime his wife and his baby daughter, the rest of them decide that it would be cool to go out and explore the city. so they do that. they go to a park and sit around, smoking and drinking warm water because of the summer heat upon them. a couple of fans stumble across them and ask for pictures. they stay for around ten minutes before leaving off to continue their day, the musicians keep on enjoying the sun and the fresh air. if you ignore calum and lucy’s cigarettes, that is.

they go to lunch at a nearby restaurant and order pasta salads. lucy looks over at luke across the table, he’s laughing at one of ashton’s jokes and she sighs almost imperceptibly, looking down at her empty plate. there’s a single ravioli and two tomato slices on it. she looks up when she feels a foot against her ankle and sees luke smiling softly at her.

they can’t help but fuck in the restaurant’s bathroom. locked into a single stall, she drops to her knees and sucks him off. luke pins her against the door and buries his head on her neck to muffle the sounds when he slides into her. she’s got a leg wrapped around his waist and she swallows hard to hush the sounds she wants to make.

when they reach back the table, they find that ashton and calum have deserted them, leaving them with the bill. “assholes,” she says and luke laughs.

-

Seen out: Luke Hemmings and Lucía Huerta have an off day in Boston

The pair walked out of the Intercontinental Hotel with Ashton Irwin (5SOS’ drummer) and Calum Hood (5SOS’ bassist). They were seen by fans at Fenway Park and they took pictures with them. Luke looks tired in the photos, but he seems happy. He wears roughed-up sneakers and a white tank top. Lucy wears short denim shorts and a black top with flowy sleeves. The fans that tagged them in the Instagram posts spoke about how nice they were and how exciting it was to meet them. Hemmings and Huerta were both seen leaving Tenderoni’s Fenway restaurant and getting into an Uber. According to inside sources, the pair haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other during this tour so far. We hope it stays that way.

-

“fuck,” lucy’s frustration about the latest hollywood gossip blog post seems to go unnoticed on the plane. but luke can tell, and he wraps an arm around her the minute they both sit down. “they know. they seem to know,” she hands him her phone so he can read the writing piece. she hates it. she hates it so much. “inside sources can suck my dick.” this statement makes luke giggle. “what’s so funny?” she asks, annoyed.

“nothing.”

-

the next cities go by in a time whirlwind. lucy’s been distant since the article and it breaks luke’s heart. she refused to hold his hand and kiss him outside hotel rooms. even concerts’ backstages.

a few months after they met, they attended a house party in santa monica. the sparks between them were something everybody noticed, but they didn’t seem to think much of it. they’re rockstars, they’re the same age, of course they’re gonna flirt. luke fucked her in the spare bedroom, door locked. she gasped when she felt his cock for the first time, knowing he’d just made her addicted to it. he’d ruined every other man for her.

“we should head back downstairs.”

“i wanna stay here with you.”

“luke.” his name was rough against her lips as she hooked her bra back on.

“alright, i’m up.”

looking back, that should’ve been a red flag for him, but he chose to ignore it. because she made him feel good and he didn’t want her to leave him for somebody else. he didn’t want to be left again. he’d loved his ex-wife, and it was hard to get over her after she cheated on him. lucy had never been in a relationship, just random hookups, a friend with benefits and two weeks of winter love. she feared intimacy and luke could tell after the second time they had sex. spend the night, he’d said. lucy shook her head and told him she needed to get up early in the morning for an interview, which was a lie.

-

by the time the first month rolls around, they’re barely talking. It’s all sex and pretending onstage. pretending to have fun, pretending that they’re not hurt. their hearts break in silence. well, sort of.

“i told you not to fuck it up.”

“she won’t let me in. she won’t talk to me about it.”

“fix it.”

-

someone just like you, no one else/lights will guide you so, run like hell

the screaming fans can’t get enough of the energy onstage. michael jumping around, calum throwing his head back to expose his neck to the crowd, ashton beasting out on the drums. luke crouches in front of the crowd with a wide smile and lucy plays guitar while she sings her heart out. the lights radiate orange and red colors on the stage, the bass resonates in their bodies and there’s so much adrenaline going on that she has a moment of weakness. she looks over at luke, who has walked over to michael’s side of the stage as he sings the second verse. he wears a silver shirt that makes his shoulders look so spectacularly broad. she looks at him a little too long and when the camera pans over to her, showing her true feelings on the giant screen, fans seem to lose it even more. luke walks back to her and sings directly into her eyes, as if he can feel his way back to his girl. finally. a sad smile appears on her face for a split second before she starts dancing while playing the post-chorus instrumental outro. her long wavy hair hides her face and no one notices a single tear rolling down her cheek. when the song ends, she pretends to be emotional about the crowd, about how much they seem to love the show. which she is very grateful for. but on the other side of the coin, she just fucked up everything for herself. her career. and it’s clear when luke approaches her with a reassuring smile and one fan screams KISS! KISS! and then the whole venue is yelling the same word over and over again. michael and calum look at each other, ashton wipes off the sweat from his forehead and when the chanting doesn’t seem to stop, he grabs his mic. 

“alright, alright. calm your asses down,” the drummer laughs and the crowd follows suit. a distraction. he starts talking about how they recorded the song and thanking lucy for putting on a fantastic show with them for the beautiful souls in the audience.

lucy twists her lips, trying not to break down in front of thousands of people. so, she just waves and quickly exits the stage. luke takes a deep breath. he wants to run after her, make sure she’s okay. but she would never forgive him for giving the fans more reasons to speculate about their relationship. 

-

lucy cries backstage, alone. she takes off her makeup and sees dark circles underneath her eyes. why the fuck is she such a mess? why can’t she be in love like a normal person?

-

the show ends and the first person to knock on her dressing room is, obviously, luke. “are you okay?” he opens the door and sees his girlfriend lying on the sofa, sleeping. her makeup’s off and he can better appreciate the freckles on her nose that she gets in the summer. he stays with her, sitting on the chair in front of the mirror. the man looks at her as she wrinkles her nose in her sleep. he loves her so much. but what if this it? what if this is the end for them? 

michael opens the door, “what’s going on? is she okay?”

“she’s okay,” luke smiles weakly. “she’s sleeping.” 

lucy holds a pillow to her chest. she’s covered by luke’s jacket. michael decides he should probably leave them alone. “good luck, man,” he says as he pats luke’s shoulder, then he leaves the door closed after stepping back out.

luke could really use a joint right now. all these thoughts and feelings. wondering what she may be dreaming. or what she does with her days when they’re not together. he hates being so possessive, it makes him feel like a child. but how can you blame him?

“good luck with what?” lucy’s yawn startles him. she rubs one eye open.

michael meant well, but he also wanted to protect luke from heartbreak. lucy’s given him that for months now. all the guys -at least in the bands- knew lucy has a bit of… issues. she believes in things to be too black or white, good or bad, yes or no. no space for grey areas in her life. and that’s frustrating to deal with, but luke had fallen in love because she was so intense and so hardheaded when it came to defending her values. He admired that about her. “I honestly have no idea,” he lies behind a chuckle, playing it off as usual band nonsense. “do you wanna go back to the hotel and sleep?”

she’s too tired to get into an argument about taking separate cars, so she just nods. “Yeah.”

-

when they get to the hotel room, luke tucks her in and pours her a glass of water that he leaves on her nightstand. he looks for ibuprofen in her small bag with pills and condoms and sets two next to the water. 

“i’m sorry for being such a bitch to you,” lucy says with her eyes closed, lying on her side. 

she looks so out of it. as if she’d just drank an entire bottle of vodka and then smoked weed. he feels bad. he never meant for her to feel like this when they got into a relationship. but touring always makes things hard. especially if you’re playing shows every night with the person you love. the man sighs and sits next to her. “don’t worry about me. get some sleep,” he whispers and kisses her temple.

before he can stand up, lucy grabs his arm. “can you stay with me? please.”

a soft smile sets on his lips. “of course.”

-

after landing in the next city, lucy calls her mom.

-

there are three knocks on his hotel room door. “luke?” her voice is soft. as if she’s embarrassed. she doesn’t want her mother’s words to haunt her. the man opens the door without his shirt. just sweatpants. he was probably gonna go to bed. she might as well ruin his night too. 

“hey.” there’s a small pause. “what’s up?” he steps aside so she can come in. the tv’s on in the background and there’s a tray with an empty plate and a glass of tequila, just resting on his nightstand. 

lucy nods her head and walks inside. “i wanna talk.”

“okay…”

“about us.”

-

Love Is All Around: It’s Insta-Official

Two months ago, the You Don’t Go To Parties Tour hit the stage. And last night, Lucía Huerta and Luke Hemmings provided some much-needed proof of their romance. “Ten months with you feel like a second. Magic. I love you.”

-

lucy sighs as she reads the article.

“are you okay?” luke asks her.

“yeah,” she replies. “just… scared, i guess.”

“it’s gonna be okay, love,” he kisses the top of her head and sits next to her on the sofa. “everything’s gonna be alright.” the dressing room is big and no one else is around. it’s noon.

tons of notifications have been hitting their phones for the past fourteen hours. some are mean comments, others are encouraging words from fans. either way, it makes lucy anxious. “do you wanna get high?” she asks her boyfriend. maybe weed isn’t the solution to every problem ever, but it helps. 

the man smiles. “sure,” he says.

they go to the private parking lot of the venue. luke rolls a joint while lucy smokes a cigarette. she flicks the ashes onto the concrete, fidgeting her fingers around the cancer stick. luke isn’t the biggest fan of her smoking. and she's been smoking more as the days go by. but he understands she’s going through a lot, so he says nothing. he gets a text from calum, wondering where he and his girlfriend are. we’re gonna have lunch, join us? but the blond dismisses the message and lights the joint. he takes two hits before handing it to lucy. she brings it immediately to her lips, the slightly spicy smoke going down her throat smoothly. 

it’s so easy to talk to each other. sometimes. but their words have been stunted lately. they don’t know what the other’s thinking. and yes, last night they had a good conversation. but now what? does everything go back to normal now? how? they both feel anxious around each other, and that’s never ever happened before. they both hate it.

“what do you…”

“do you ever…”

they open their mouths simultaneously, quickly chuckling at the awkwardness of their interaction. lucy nods her head, letting him know that he can finish his thought.

luke smiles. “i was gonna ask you if you ever feel like… like things are going so good between us and suddenly we get so quiet and you worry? is that… is that something you feel?”

lucy smiles back. “yeah,” she says. “i don’t really know how to explain it. i mean, i love you. you know i really fucking love you, luke. but sometimes i worry we get too inside our heads. because i think we’re really similar like that. and i… i wanna be someone you can count on…”

“i want that too,” he replies. she hands him back the joint and he smokes some more.

“and sometimes i worry i’m not that someone you deserve,” she finally confesses.

it makes him sad to hear her say that, because there’s no better person for him than her. no one has made him feel this way before. the ups and downs seem to be heightened and it’s a beautiful way to live, he doesn’t want anyone else. there’s only room in his heart for this woman. this is the hardest he’s ever fallen in love, and he can’t imagine his life without her. a bit dramatic, but hey, that’s just who he is. “i don’t deserve anyone, lucy. i just want to be with you,” he says and takes her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “all the time. every single fucking day.”

the woman looks down at their hands. matching red nail polish and silver-colored rings. this is scary. it’s scary to love and need someone so much that you feel like you’d die if they ever left you. please, don’t leave me. ever. lucy sighs and squeezes his hand in hers. “right back at ya,” she smiles softly and looks up to find his baby blues staring at her with so much love in them that she can’t help the weakness she feels in her knees.

the silence is barely uncomfortable anymore. unlike the ones they’ve been experiencing for countless weeks now. it’s all out in the open. their love for each other burning brighter than ever. neither want this moment to end. and since there’s only one way to stop time, they lean into each other and kiss. it’s soft at first, like a goodnight kiss. and it escalates quickly to an i-never-wanna-be-without-you one. she grabs fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him closer to her body. luke places both hands on her face as his tongue traces her bottom lip. their eyes are red and their hunger is raw.

-

they can’t get to his hotel room fast enough. fuck having lunch with friends, they need to satiate this urge so they can go on for the rest of the day. “i want you so bad,” she whines against his throat, leaving wet and sloppy kisses along his jawline. he’s already big and leaking with precum, grinding his hips against hers. unhooking her bra, luke immediately buries his head between her breasts and she whines again. those beautiful sounds he can’t get enough of.

“ride me, babe. i wanna see these titties bounce,” he whispers against her skin. hands gripping her hips. bulge so hard he feels like he’s gonna explode. they’re naked and he already has a condom wrapping his shaft. lucy bites her lower lip and lines him against her slit. he’s throbbing in her hand and that drives her insane. the moan he drags out as she strokes him is paradise. The filthiest love they’ve ever experienced. Both always wanting to fuck each other. It’s her waist, it’s his broad shoulders. The way they move on stage, wanting to look sexy for the other. 

lucy sinks into his cock and lets out a whine, “fuuck.” his thick size feels so good. luke grabs her ass and spreads her cheeks open so he can penetrate her better. 

“you like that?”

“yes.” her mouth hangs open and her eyes roll to the back of her head. luke has always thought of her as his pretty little pornstar. even before they started dating, the way she danced with him at the club. her back pressed to his body as his hands rested on her hips and stomach. both sweaty and a bit embarrassed when they went back to the booth with their friends. 

the woman, as per requested, starts bouncing on his cock. titties moving up and down. “fuck, girl.”

-

“is it better to feel this or feel nothing at all?”

ever since the news got out about their relationship, lucy’s been a mess. interviewers can be assholes. they suddenly stopped asking about her music, her achievements. all they wanted to know about was her clothes and her boyfriend. like everything she worked for just disappeared in the blink of an eye.

she lays on her side on the hotel bed after playing a festival in latin america. luke spoons her, holding her close to his body. he doesn’t know what to say. he’s surprised by the outcome. hadn’t expected people to diminish her work, to ignore she just played the 6 pm slot, which is a hard spot to get. you need a lot of people to stay for the whole set. and she’d killed it. 

“i don’t understand what happened,” luke sighs against her neck and squeezes her tighter. “i’m really sorry.”

lucy closes her eyes, feeling a bit less anxious with him. “it’s okay. the industry’s fucked up.”

“yeah,” he chuckles weakly. “it is.”

-

“so it’s true? you and luke are engaged?”

the questions about her relationship don’t seem to cease. even a year later. they go together to events and people seem to be more excited about them together than their work. it’s annoying, but what are you gonna do? “yeah, we are,” lucy smiles. “we’re also dropping a new song together next month.”

“ooh, tell us about it.”

lucy has become good at deflecting. luke taught her that. 

-

“how was the interview?” luke asks after he greets his fianceé with a kiss and hands her a cup of coffee from her favorite shop.

“it was alright,” lucy shrugs. it’s definitely been a learning experience, dodging questions about her personal life. but luke has been so supportive and sweet throughout the whole thing. she’s grateful to marry her man in six months. “how was the recording session?” she asks as she sips the hot beverage.

the blond had written things throughout the tour. enough things to make an ep. “it was good,” he smiles softly.

-

the song luke and lucy release is a hit. a 90s-inspired track with her raspy vocals and his whiny ones make for an interesting texture that captures hearts everywhere. they play it on several shows, the crowds go insane every time.

a month later, lucy releases her second album. it's a hit. she's invited to play festivals and there are rumors of a grammy nomination.

"here's to my girl," luke smiles as he raises a glass of wine in front of her and their friends. "she showed the world she's a powerhouse, an amazing songwriter and performer. she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and i'm so proud of you." his gaze sets on lucy, who's blushing like crazy and smiling like an idiot. "i really fucking love you."

"right back at ya," the woman grins and stands up from the table to kiss her man. everyone cheers.

the night goes by fast. the celebration turns into a party in luke and lucy's new place in west hollywood. but the couple soon disappears into their shared bedroom. fucking until the sun comes up and their friends leave.

luke pants as his orgasm washes over him. "fuck," he breathes out, collapsing next to her on their bed.

"yeah," lucy chuckles. her body is sweaty and she wraps an arm around his torso as she snuggles up to him. looking up at his face, the man's glistening. he's the most beautiful man. he's got the biggest heart and he's never been jealous or threatened by her successes. she appreciates that. "wanna eat me out?" lucy smirks, her leg now over his, her wet pussy making contact with his thigh and she grinds into him.

"give me a second," luke lets out a soft laugh. "you really wore me out. my pretty slutty angel." he strokes her hair, hand soon trailing down to her ass. a small slap to it that makes her bite down on her lip. "okay, come on. legs spread, i'm diving in," he grins.

she does what she's told. opening her legs so luke can attach his lips to her swollen clit and start licking her folds. so sloppy. so fucking nasty. lucy groans as her breath hitches. "you're so good."

he smirks against her entrance before exploring her walls with his tongue. so fucking skilled.

-

grammy nominations announcement. luke and lucy's song gets one for song of the year. her album gets one for album of the year. they're ecstatic. it's all happening.