#thank goodness everyone else has those covered

[moonstruckme]

mae, congratulations on 8k and happy holidays ahhh!!! if you have the time, i could totally see something fun with tasm! peter and the prompt office christmas party. like coworkers to friends to pining and confessions? basically it’s giving jim and pam teapot, BUT i would love to see where your brain takes it

Thank you for requesting! Happy holidays :)

cw: jokes are made about Peter's appearance, but they're very, very sarcastic

coworker!(tasm)Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 639 words

You never usually wear red. It’s not like it’s one of Peter’s favorite colors anyway—he only really wears it for one thing, even if that’s pretty much every day—but he feels suddenly robbed having never seen it on you before. As if you’re not eye-catching enough already, your holiday sweater makes you the brightest thing in the room. 

Peter goes to it like a moth to a flame. Though, in fairness, that’s your usual effect on him, sweater or no. 

“Oh, wow, you lucked out,” he says, raising his eyebrows at your white elephant gift. 

You look up from your desk, grinning when you see Peter. “I know, right?” You hold your prize up enthusiastically, like they’re the keys to your new car and not slippers designed to look like giant man feet with a bow slapped on top of them. “Can you believe I started with a bluetooth shower speaker and worked my way up to these? I mean, Christmas is over at this point. Everyone else can go home.” 

“Those will probably be the best give you’ll ever get,” Peter agrees. He leans against your desk, careful not to disturb the pens lined up neatly by your laptop. “You really managed to land on a personalized one, too. Did you already know they made slippers that match your feet, or did you just find out today?” 

Your shoulders hitch with a laugh, pretty eyes sparkling. Peter feels a warm tug in his gut. Any day he can make you smile is a good one. 

“What did you get?” you ask him. 

“Oh, mine came from the boss man himself.” Peter reaches into his small gift bag, pulling out his prize. “Check this baby out.” 

Your smile stays in place, but you look genuinely perplexed. “A toothbrush?” 

“Not just any toothbrush.” He presses a button on the side, watching your face as a song begins to play from a small speaker. Baby, baby, baby, ohhhh…

Your mouth actually drops open before you cover it with a hand, giggles muffled into your palm. “Okay, wait, wait. I actually want that one now.” 

Peter hisses through his teeth, shrugging remorsefully. “Sorry, but I don’t think I can part with it. It’s too important to me. Anyway, you’ve got your slippers, and they suit you so well…” 

“Right, but” —You school your expression into solemnity. Peter has to work hard to suppress his own grin, thinking to himself that you look like a contestant on that Shark Tank show— “have you considered the potential of these slippers in your love life? I mean, I’ve already basically got it covered with my feet, but Peter…” You hold the slippers up, letting them dangle from a single finger. “These could be a real babe magnet.” 

Peter lets out a long exhale, pretending to consider it. “That’s true. I could use a little help on the dating front…” 

“You could,” you say sympathetically. 

“I mean, my looks on their own are hardly doing the job.” 

“It’s not your fault we weren’t all born naturally attractive.” 

“I am pretty plain…” 

“Homely, even. But that’s alright.” You hold the slippers out again. “That’s where these come in.” 

“Okay.” Peter feigns reluctance, handing over the toothbrush. “You’ve got a deal.” 

“Yes!” Every hair on his leg stands at attention when you put your hand on his knee, squeezing. You’re smiling beatifically. “Thank you, Peter. This means the world.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re doing me a favor too.” He sets his hand on top of yours, squeezing also. “Pleasure doing business with you.” 

Your eyes drop to your hand as if realizing where it is for the first time, and Peter pretends not to notice when your eyes flicker up to his, the teasing in them giving way momentarily to bashfulness. He got the best gift today, for sure. 

[ellaphnt]

Shuro’s status of nobility has been brought up a few times when discussing his fight with Laios. I’m sure there’s credibility to the argument but the way it’s been used makes me go, “huh??”

I’ve seen his upbringing used in a negative context, usually to flatten his reasons for fighting with Laios. “oh he’s used to people listening to him so he’s never met anyone who doesn’t do exactly what he says” or “he’s never been exposed to anyone new or any new perspectives and that’s why he hated Laios”. I don’t think these opinions are salient in fan spaces but I saw it enough times I wanted to talk about it.

I feel like we just, forgot that Toshiro is a foreigner? The only poc in the party? And never interacted with gnomes, dwarves, and halffoots since they don’t live in the east? (well, the last point depends on how much you’ve seen from the Adventurer’s Bible)

Compared to everyone else, he probably had the MOST exposure to new people and experiences. And yet he was able to, best he can, quickly assimilate and harmonize with everyone in his new party. Regardless of what he thought about them, it seemed everyone else thought he was amicable. As a poc (and East Asian specifically), that’s mission accomplished.

With all that effort into making himself culturally digestible, it’s no wonder he resented/envied Laios. He put in all this effort to learn their status quo, to not offend the new people he’s meeting, only for Laios to not give him the same consideration. Both of them were socially inept in some way, but only one of them felt the need to do something about it. It’s important to note that their fight was a turning point for Laios too - he realize he had to be more aware and present for his team.

So Toshiro didn’t want to say no outright because it might set back the bonds he’s trying to form. Confrontation is hard, confrontation in a new country is harder. He settles for “close enough” because hey, it’s not that big of a deal. Their opinion of me is way more important than obtaining respect for myself. I’m the foreigner. This has the consequence of making him a pushover, but I digress. He seems to identify himself more as a foreigner than nobility.

And that had to do with separating his identity! The identify he has at his house was kept VERY separate from the one he has with Laios and co. He doesn’t want Laios’ party to know that he is nobility. He doesn’t even care that they call him by “first name”, albeit butchered. He never mentioned the retainers to them (since Chilchuck had to ask who they were).

The retainers are people he’d rather keep at a distance due to their connection with his dad. This might be why he joined Laios’ party solo given the opportunity. But as we see in the image below, they followed him into the dungeon ANYWAYS. You can’t convince me he wanted them to do that. They watch from a distance, disregarding Toshiro’s independence. They don’t always listen to him, they do what they think is best for him, which means they actually follow MAIZURU. To her, his status as their young master is very important, and therefore he needs to be waited on hand and foot. It’s not that he’s used to people doing stuff for him, it’s moreso Maizuru does it regardless.

What drives both identities is an inability to assert himself. He don’t think highly of himself (living under his father’s shadow) and it shows in how people treat him. With Laios and others, he had the opportunity to shape a new identity, but because Laios was the one that introduced him, he and everyone else just accepted the misconceptions. I’m sure Toshiro noted his surprisingly strong influence on his team, something he hasn’t achieved.

With his retainers and Maizuru specifically, she doesn’t put faith in his decisions. She tsked at the fact they went to save Falin, but obeyed anyways because he’s never asserted himself before. (Reminder that assertion is him on his knees requesting their help - the hierarchy of his upbringing does not feel ingrained in him. Giving me overly respectful and considerate vibes, the silly guy)

So he CAN do it! He CAN shape how people see him if he is able to open up a bit more. Rather than his nobility, it’s moreso that he’s never trusted anyone to open up to in the first place. He doesn’t fit in back home. He’s distant from Maizuru, he’s distant from Hien. He’s distant from his brothers and parents. He basically never had friends until Laios. This is his first friend too!!!

He finally opened up to him, and that’s going to pave the way for his character development in the future. He now has someone he can trust, someone to put his faith in, and someone to teach him how to communicate better. By airing his resentment, now all that’s left is that envy/admiration. He’s going to learn from that.

Edit: just because I like keeping things together, here’s more discussion about this post :P

[suguann]

FUCK IT, I WANT YOU—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦

✎. jjk men who are infatuated with you. | wc. 2.4k+

tags. fem!reader, bsf sister, cockwarming, slightly rough sex, best friends to lovers, exhibitionism, breast f*cking, domestic nanami, pet names, praise, mild dark content, dubcon, stepcest, stuckage

featuring. gojo, higuruma, nanami, geto, sukuna

an. banner is from hare kon okawari | masterlist

↬ GOJO

He shouldn’t even entertain the thought of wanting you—somewhere in the world, there’s a book of rules that says you shouldn’t develop a crush on your best friend’s little sister. 

It doesn’t stop him from letting you talk him into shopping (as if he’d ever tell you no) and watching you try on tiny, flowy sundresses that make his jaw ache, how he’s just on the side of too-weak for those low-scooped tops you’re always wearing whenever he’s at your house. 

At first, Gojo wonders if you do it on purpose—the bashful smiles and bumping shoulders if he’s close by—but you’re painfully shy for that to be the case. It’s why a smirk tugs at his mouth after leaving love bites across your chest when he finally gets you alone in his room so that he might see the adorable little face you make as you try to cover them up afterward. 

He has you perched in his lap on the bed with an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you rooted on his cock buried deep inside the hot-wet heat between your legs. His mouth sucks marks into your skin wherever he can reach, deep groans rumbling in his chest every time your pussy clenches down on him—a sweet reminder that he hasn’t let you move for a while.

“Toru, not there,” you squeak, fingers knotting in the hair at his nape to gently pull him away. “People will see.” 

But he doesn’t listen as he rolls a nipple between his fingers, mesmerized by the sight of it pebbling into a tight peak—your thighs shaking around him when he pinches too hard.

“So fucking pretty,” he growls, biting his lip as he finally looks up at you. “Just let me play with them a bit more, and then I’ll fuck you. I promise.”

A white lie, but he’s done and said worse, and this isn’t that. This is him savoring a victory he never knew he had until you fluttered those long lashes and asked for a kiss.

You’re gasping and writhing, unable to do anything except sit there while he overstimulates you with his mouth and fingers. When he finally rolls you over onto your back, you’ve already cum twice, but that doesn’t stop him, greedy hips churning against yours and stealing another.

He sucks a nipple into his mouth, loving how you quiver underneath him, your soft socks slipping where they try to rest around his waist. “You’re so sensitive, huh, baby?” he rasps, nosing the soft swell of your breast as he crowds you underneath him. 

You mewl out a broken version of his name, hot pants against his neck that make you sound so desperate—not really answering him as your nails bite into his shoulders—and he can’t get over the way you look right now, how you sound. He’ll never be able to go back to pretending that you’re Geto’s annoying little sister (as if he ever thought you were) as Gojo watches drool trail from the side of your mouth from how good he’s fucking you. 

“Do you know how filthy you look right now?” he grits between his teeth. “Been thinking about this for so long—fuck—can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

↬ HIGURUMA

It’s an accident the first time it happens. 

You’re at the beach, playing with him in the water, when a wave hits you and washes your bikini top away. You squeal, and because he’s your best friend and has always looked out for you, he doesn’t realize right away he used his hands to shield your bare breasts from everyone else on the beach—eyes round when Higuruma does.

It’s innocent—his intent—yet alarm bells are ringing in his ears.

He expects you to shove him away—you don’t. Instead, you give him a sweet smile with a soft, muttered thank you and let him carry you back to the towels. 

He’s still reeling at how you fit perfectly in his palms, skin against skin in a way he’s only ever shamefully imagined alone with his fist around his dick. It has him shifting his trunks uncomfortably, and he wants—no, needs (a definite need) more.

Higuruma spreads you out on your towel under the canopy of the large beach umbrella, the shirt he gave you pushed up and held out of the way under your chin as you watch him. His shoulders block out anybody from really seeing how he’s teasing your nipples into his mouth—your fingers digging into the hair at his nape to keep him there. 

He never thought he’d get this far after years of watching you dance around the periphery of his life without ever really being his. How seeing you like this—whimpering his name under your breath, eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks, and grinding onto his thigh pressed up between yours—only ever existed in a fantasy or two. 

There’s nothing to do but watch as the lines of an eight-year friendship crumble into the sand with your soft squeaks of more, and his low groans fuck, and he can’t bring himself to feel anything other than a small flame doused in kerosene. 

If this is the sacrifice for holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your sweat-slick skin, he’ll gladly burn.

He’d keep you like this forever if he could, and the way you look at him, pleading with your eyes, makes him think you’d let him if he asked (or maybe he wouldn’t have to).

He releases your nipple and smiles when your shirt falls from your teeth with a whine, your foot stomping against the towel in a way that’s too fucking cute.

“Why’d you stop?”

All the blood and heat in his body rush to his dick at how needy you sound—for him, all for him—and his breath fans across your spit-slick skin shakily, pent up and overflowing with nerves he’s held onto for as long as he can remember. “Sweetheart, you have to be quiet.”

You nod eagerly, your grip tightening in his hair to bring him back towards you. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be quiet. Just please don’t stop.”

Never. 

When your leg brushes the tent in his trunks, it feels like his eyes roll into the back of his head from the contact. He greedily takes your tight, sensitive peak back into his mouth again—hardly paying attention to the wanton moans you fail to suppress as you continue grinding onto his thigh.

↬ NANAMI

Nanami stares at you more often than usual after you have his son—at how your chest fills out every top you wear, and your hips become the perfect place for his hands—a strange new obsession that develops overnight without a manual or an off switch.

One day, you’re his beautiful wife. The next, you’re his beautiful wife holding his baby, and suddenly, he’s seeing the world through a clear lens, and he can’t stop looking.

His hands are always on you just to curb the constant ache that never really fades, brushing hair out of your face, massaging your lower back, shamelessly letting them wander too close to the underside of your breasts whenever he can. Sometimes, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and sometimes it’s all he can think to do.

Some days, after a stressful work day, he’ll lay atop your chest and pepper kisses against whatever skin he can reach, wandering, eager hands getting their fill until he falls asleep. On other days, he stays up long enough—baby tucked away in his crib and the monitor softly humming on the coffee table—to peel your clothes out of the way to get the full picture.

“Just like that, darling,” he groans, watching where you’re kneeled between his legs, unable to take his eyes off the way his leaky tip peeks out from between your soft, bare breasts. 

You stick out your tongue to lick away the pearl of white drooling out of his slit, only to spit it back onto his cock to help aid your up and down movements. It has him throbbing at how messy it is, liquid-hot heat pooling in his stomach at how good it feels. He knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he’s torn on whether or not to stop you or let you keep going.

“How does it feel?” you peer up at him through long lashes like you don’t already know what you’re doing to him.

“‘Good, darling. So fucking good—fuck, keep going—pretty little wife on her knees for me,” he curses, hips shuddering when he thrusts up, watching his length disappear and reappear again and again.

The delicate smile that adorns your lips makes his heart flutter, and balls draw up to his body. “Yeah? You gonna cum, Kento?”

“I don’t—I, fuck, yes.” He’d much rather finish with his face buried in your tits, but he’s already too far gone to pull away, to shove you down onto the couch.

You hum softly. “I want you to cum on me. Please.”

That’s his final undoing, groaning at the thought of him marking those cute tits that take up his every spare thought, cumming unexpectedly in a rush of white-hot pleasure before he can stop it. His cock jerks until viscous streaks of white paint your chest, and it makes everything sticky and sloppy, sending a weak burst of liquid pleasure rushing up his spine before he slumps against the couch with a satisfied sigh. 

↬ GETO

He loves it when you’re like this. Soft and pliant beneath him, eyelashes spiked with tears.

He doesn’t know where to look—can’t decide between the smattering of possessive marks littering the inside of your thighs or the ones that travel across your chest. 

A decision easily made for him when he presses the tip of his sensitive cock back into your fluttering cunt, unable to tear his eyes away from how your breasts bounce with every one of his harsh, desperate thrusts. His thumb smooths over a peaked nipple—bitten raw and pinched tight—and he curses under his breath at the feel of you clenching on him like a vice.

You tell him how good he feels under a hitched breath, and his chest tightens because he can’t remember the last time someone used an adjective like that to describe him. Good. It’s weird how such a simple word can make Geto’s head spin and make him feel like anything other than the man he is outside your bed.

He ducks his head down to suck another little bruise right above your nipple, the corners of his mouth curling slightly, knowing that he’ll be the only one that’ll know it exists. 

“Prettiest fucking girl I know,” he breathes harshly, already close. “I wish you could see how perfect you look.”

Geto slips his fingers between you, playing over the tiny, sensitive bud at the peak of your thighs.

“Oh.” A soft sigh.

“Maybe I should take a picture, huh? Would you let me? So I can look at you like this,” —he thrusts deep, making sure you’ll be able to feel him afterward— “all damn day, every fucking day.”

And like a tightrope snapping loose, you fall apart around him, practically choking his cock, and he fills up your cunt for the second time that night.

↬ SUKUNA

You're cleaning the apartment you share with your step-brother until it's spotless because the guy you’ve kind of had a crush on since the start of the semester is coming over today to study, and the butterflies in your belly tell you today is the day he’s finally going to ask you out. 

What you don’t anticipate—between throwing away Sukuna’s collection of energy drinks on the coffee table and doing a load of laundry—is the possibility of getting stuck in the too-small dryer while reaching for a sock or that your brother would be the one to find you bent over with your shorts riding up your legs.

You suppress a groan at the sound of Sukuna's patronizing voice behind you. "What do we have here?"

"Don't just stand there, idiot," you hiss. "Help me."

He chuckles in that mean, condescending way that always sets your teeth on edge. "You're really bossy for someone with their ass hanging out of a dryer. Maybe I should leave you here and wait for Mick—”

“His name’s Mitch—”

“—to find you."

"No!" you say almost too loudly, wincing as your voice echoes around the dryer. With a small sigh, your head hanging, you add, "Please help me."

"That's better." 

It's quiet for a moment, and you start fidgeting again to free yourself until you feel a pair of large hands palming your hips, and you can't stop the squeak that escapes the back of your throat—not expecting the terrible-hot-wrongness of it to feel so good.

A feeling stirs in your belly that you’d tucked away long ago, and only returning to under the safety of the baby blue twinkle string lights in your room—hand in your sleep shorts and teeth digging an imprint into the palm of your hand to hold back the name you only chant in your head.

“You’re s-supposed to be helping,” your voice wavers, dizzy with what’s transpiring in that cramped laundry room.

He huffs a soft laugh behind you, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine where your shirt rode up. “Give me a minute.”

It's embarrassing when you feel wetness pooling in the seat of your underwear, heat rushing from the roots of your hair and down to your toes when his hands travel over the swell of your ass in your tiny shorts. 

You're almost compelled to tell him you’ll get out on your own because it’s the right thing to do—to put a stop to something that shouldn’t happen except in cheap porn. Then his hand comes down against your backside, hard, and every single thought in your head scrambles like an egg on hot pavement.

You whimper, the force of his slap jolting you further into the dryer, sweaty hands scrambling against the metal walls to keep your face from crashing into it.

"Fuck, I've always wanted to do that,” he breathes before tugging the crotch of your shorts and panties out of the way, and you feel something wet and slick drip against your cunt. "Maybe I'll just keep you here for a bit. What do you say, sis?"

His thumb runs along your slit and presses inside you.

“Ah. W-wai—”

“Shh. Just—fuck, so fucking tight—just let me enjoy this pussy, huh?” And quieter, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

You shiver and swallow around the words threatening to escape: me, too.

[bunnys-kisses]

hiii could i pls get hocus pocus rolls, pumpkin patch brownies and a dead velvet cake with a side of doctor pepper, white claw, pepsi zero and a gummy bear cocktail served by lando?? love ur fics!!

halloween bakery - bakery menu

the halloween menu is available until nov 2nd! so get those orders in during the meantime! thank you to everyone who has submitted, i'm trying to get them done in a timely manner! writing these prompts has allowed me to help manage some of my seasonal depression & chronic pains.

hocus pocus rolls: "next year you're wearing something that covers more." + pumpkin patch brownies: "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold." + dead velvet cake: "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!" + doctor pepper: university au + white claw: slutty costumes + pepsi zero: rough sex + gummy bear cocktail: possessive behavior served by lando norris (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, university au, slutty costumes, possessive behavior, rough sex, football (soccer) player!lando, protected sex, missionary style

"it's so cold tonight!" you yelped as you walked with your boyfriend to the house that he lived in with the rest of the football team. even though you were wearing a light jacket, the wind cut through it.

lando had a possessive hand on your lower back as the two of you walked across campus as the sun went down. he pulled at the back of the jacket a little and said, "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold."

"well, they said it was going to be plus ten, so i thought this would be enough!"

lando remarked, "i think it would've been fine if you didn't wear such a thin costume." he gave your ass a quick squeeze, feeling the cheap material of the outfit under his palm.

lando knew the costume was slutty. how could he not? the jacket you wore couldn't cover up just how much that costume revealed. you were dressed as a cheerleader this year, and while that was a fantasy for lando. he would've preferred if the outfit wasn't being pranced around the house.

he was on the couch during the party. he was dressed in his football uniform and that was his 'costume' with his windbreaker jacket over it. he eyed you up and down as you chatted and drank. you looked cute. adorable even. your charm pulled people in.

there was a knock on the door and you went to answer it. your heels clicked against the hardwood floor but was drowned out by the loud music. lando got up from the couch and was close behind you. when you opened the door to hand out candy to those not invited to the party. he wrapped you up in his jacket.

"lando!" you yelped as the mini chocolate bars fell out of your hand

"next year you're wearing something that covers more." he then pulled you away from the door which caused you to flail as the candy fell from your hands, "you look too good, babe. i think that's enough for their eyes." he said as he hauled you upstairs.

you swore you heard lando's teammate, oscar, laugh over the thump of the music. you whined, "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!"

when lando got you to the bedrooms upstairs, he wrapped his strong arms around you, "someone else can do it. let the captain or someone else. i don't care. i just need you right now." he said. it was hard to hide an erection in those shorts.

lando's room was nice, but you had little time to admire the photos of you he had pinned to the wall before you were on the bed. you bounced on it as you fell on top of it. your breasts bounced and it only made lando more hungry for you.

"there's my little cheerleader." he said as he cupped his cock in his shorts, "you come to every game with my number across your pretty tits. you wear my last name like its yours." he chuckled before he pulled the jersey top off, "you hoping for a ring after graduation."

you blushed and wanted to push him away, but he pulled you in closer. you giggled when he kissed you, "i think you're buying ring before i can even think about it." you reached down and touched his cock in his shorts before they were pulled off and sent to the ground.

he chuckled before his lips touched your neck, "well, when you're my wife. this little outfit will be for my eyes only. i don't need all of the school to have their eyes on you. hungry like animals." you moaned when his kisses continued.

lando knew how to make you feel good, the kind of toe curling feeling that made it very easy for him to get you out of your costume. at least he didn't tear the thing off of you! his kisses continued as his clothed cock brushed against you. you knew he was painfully erect.

"my angel." he said, "prettiest girl on campus. fuck, you drive me crazy." he groaned a little bit when he eventually got his briefs off and let him rubbed his achy cock against you, "you have no idea how crazy you drive me."

you moaned, "please, lando."

you knew what everyone adored your boyfriend, he was great at what he did on the field and in the classroom. but he only had eyes for you, he yearned for you as his hands trailed up your sides. you were both naked on his bed, not the first time that had happened. but every time you were intimate with your boyfriend it felt special.

"i want you, i want you to badly." he got you onto your back and hiked your hips up against him where you wrapped your legs around his waist. he leaned forward and grabbed a condom from nightstand. you two had to play it safe, you were both still in school.

you replied, "i love you."

"i love you too, fuck, you look too perfect in the costume. i didn't know something could fit you so well." he chuckled as he leaned back a little to get the condom on.

you felt anticipation run through you as you laid out under him. you admired him. his toned body and bright smile. you could make out the pink in his cheeks from the immense pleasure between you two. to be fucking in the quietness of his bedroom while there was a party outside.

"i don't want you to have anyone else." he said as he gave his cock a few strokes to make sure the condom was on there securely. he then loomed over you with his hands at your hips as he sank his cock into you. your toes curled and your back arched at the feeling of him.

you held onto the covers under you, the same covers that you picked out for him. the soft blue that went with the minimal decor of his bedroom.

lando loved you and respected opinions you had, even if it was something simple like a nice bed spread. because at the end of the day, he still got to fuck you against the covers. the bed squeaked a little bit and lando realized that he had to slow his pace down. but where he lacked in speed, he made up in strength. and he roughly fucked you, slowly, making you feel every inch of him as he buried over seven inches inside of your achy cunt.

he needed you just as much as you needed him. he felt like a winner when he played with you in the stands. you watched him put his all into football and you loved him dearly. he never though he'd get that with anyone else. so that was why he was so possessive at times. he didn't want to lose you, you were everything to him.

and you dressed as a slutty cheerleader wasn't soothing the growl in lando's soul as he rutted against you. you were just so beautiful and the words hung on his tongue, but he couldn't say the words as the feeling of pleasure rushed through his body.

"such a pretty girl." he said as he rocked against you. he loved the feeling of your legs around his waist, he thrusted up into you and you felt amazing.

the pace was rough enough that it made the curl of pleasure bloom in your gut. you knew only lando could make you feel this good, make your core throb with want as he fucked you. your noises got a little louder but lando leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

no need to cause a scene at the party tonight. but, lando knew that at the very least oscar knew what you two were up to. you moaned against the kiss and wrapped your arms around him as he worked your body further. you shifted under his grip on you which only spurred him on further to make a mess of your pretty pussy.

"you look so good under me." he said, "no other guy can have you like this. only me." he chuckled a little, his voice tight from the pleasure as he worked his hips against you. you groaned a little louder as you clung to him, "part of me wants them to know, to all know exactly how you make me feel.

his words curled something in you and you felt the jump of lust inside of you. the pleasure coursed through you as the two of you fucked on the bed. your costumes were left discarded to be picked up in the morning. if you left the room before the party was over, you'd be wearing lando's clothes. not that slutty costume.

"please, lando." you whined as the pleasure worked through you. you knew from the first time he made you cum with his fingers and tongue alone that you'd be in for a world of pleasure with your boyfriend by your side.

"i always make you feel good, babe." he said with tenderness in his voice. he continued to fuck you, he grabbed your hips once more and hiked them up further to get a better angle of your sweet cunt.

the pace staggered, and the pace quickened despite the noise. it didn't help that the two of you were getting louder as you approached your climax. he whispered filthy nothings into your ear, about how hot you looked and how good he wanted to make you feel. it allowed the heat to bloom in your core as you felt orgasm wash over you.

you whined and arched you back, before you could get too loud, your ever loving boyfriend kissed you on the lips tightly. he continued to move against you, heavy, rough strokes that left you feeling on cloud nine. he came soon after with a heavy stroke and you both felt amazing.

"shit, babe."

you both laid out on the bed while the thump of the music downstairs reverberated through the bedroom. you both laid in each other's grasp and softly kissed. lando had gotten rid of the condom already and you two just laid under the covers together.

eventually you heard a knock on the door and oscar's voice, "hey, mate. party's wrapping up, i know you're busy with your girlfriend, but we need all the man power can get to get everyone out."

lando looked at you and kissed you on the cheek before he got out of bed to get dressed. before he left the room he said to you, "stay here, and don't put that costume on unless you want to limp back to your dorm tomorrow." and gave you a wink <3

[kurooh]

★ 02. MORNING ROUTINE !

☆ after filming your first scene and talking it over with your agent, you’re off to your second . . in a maid costume!? once filming is over, you’re roped into an interesting conversation regarding a few other stars.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, everyone is over 21, oral (f receiving), cum eating, maids, awkwardness, creampie, unprotected sex. | 4.9K words

xoxo, juno. SHES BACKKKKK! comment & rb if you enjoyed! thank u to wolfy anon for proofreading ily ♡

SHOWTIME MLIST.

“hey, good morning,” shinsou rushes up to you at the doors, lightly grabbing onto your shoulder before you can walk into the studio. “how’d yesterday’s shoot go for you?”

“good morning!” you reply happily, lighting up as you turn to face your agent. “let’s get some coffee from the place across the street, and i can tell you while we walk?”

“sounds good,” he exhales, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. “it’s definitely getting colder, god. i could seriously use some coffee.”

“ah, it is. anyway, filming wasn’t too bad. i had director iida, i believe? yeah, he was pretty alright.” you and shinsou walk side by side, stopping to hit the button and waiting for the lights to change.

shinsou gives a small smile, crossing the street with you. “how’d it go with your co-star? i figured he’d be a good introduction for you.”

“shōto was nice,” you say, warmth rising to your cheeks. the memory of being pressed against him and fucking is a little blurry, but just thinking about it has your pussy clenching around nothing. the faint feeling of his touch ghosts across your skin, and you clear your throat awkwardly. “um . . i think we ended up doing well together.”

shinsou’s not surprised. after all, he pulled the strings behind the scenes to get you with him.

“that’s good! i’ve been meaning to ask you about what you’re interested to do today,” shinsou holds the door of the coffee shop open for you and follows you inside. “i’ll get you up to speed after we order, alright? and don’t worry, i’ll just cover your drink.”

“oh,” you’re in the middle of unzipping your purse, “you really don’t have to, shinsou! i’ve got it.”

“i insist, it’s my treat.” he leaves no room for you to fight him any further, and you place the order together once it’s your turn.

“what were you saying about filming today?” you draw his attention back to the aforementioned topic as you sit down at a table together to wait for your drinks.

“oh, that’s right. you’ve been booked by a lot of different people, so you’ve gotta choose who you want to film with today. personally, i think you’ve got some decent options.”

“is that so?” you exhale, wondering if anyone else could possibly top your experience with shōto. but of course, you’re employed at a pornography studio, where dreams become reality and anything is possible.

shinsou’s voice drops to a low whisper, his words meant for your ears only. “well, there’s this . . maid thing, or some kind of bdsm shoot.”

“those are not good options,” you groan, closing your eyes briefly in disgust. “who’re the people booking? anyone important?”

“obviously, the maid film is from denki kaminari. the bdsm is—”

you’ve seen denki kaminari’s videos before. he seems to be energetic and also a little pervy, but he’s good looking and you’re not in the mood to be tied up in ropes or chains.

“i’ll go with the maid film. is he offering a lot?”

“kaminari’s a bit . . eccentric,” shinsou offers, waving his hand dismissively. “he doesn’t usually book with a set amount in mind like everyone else does. he prefers to shoot the film and then pay based off of what it makes.”

so, there are a few financial risks when it comes to choosing denki kaminari, but you sigh and bite the bullet. “that’s not ideal, but i’ll take it. when’s it scheduled?”

shinsou looks over at a mounted clock behind you, “if you’re going for this, you’re supposed to be over there in an hour.”

the barista calls out shinsou’s name, and you pick up the coffees while he sends a confirmation email to kaminari’s agent.

your arrival to shinsou’s office is met with an assistant of some kind dropping off a garment bag. through the fabric, you can see big frills and bows that most definitely will be itchy when you’re going around in it.

shinsou takes the bag with a sigh, and the assistant presses a yellow sticky note to the side of it before scurrying off quickly. you pick up the yellow paper and read the messy writing scrawled onto it.

hey! please change into this before arriving to set, director’s orders. we hope the dress is comfortable, even though it doesn’t look like it.

“i assume this is from kaminari?” you say flatly, tugging the sticky note off the bag.

“of course it is,” shinsou replies, holding the door open for you, “you can change in here before you head over. by the way, you’re heading to the fourth floor and turning to the left.”

“thanks, shinsou.”

unzipping the garment bag yields a frilly black and white dress decked out with bows and all kinds of lace. tucked in neatly beside the dress is a folded set of thigh high socks and a prop duster that looks as though it’s never been used. you pull off your clothes and change into the provided ones with little excitement. at the very least, you’ll get paid well and then end up filming something better, hopefully again with shōto.

shinsou nearly drops his phone when you step out of his office in that ridiculous dress—it looks so good on you, accentuating your chest and complimenting your figure beautifully. you fiddle with the bow necktie, fingers tangling in the black fabric. his mouth goes dry when you look up at him shyly, gesturing toward the necktie as best you can.

“could you help me tie this, shinsou?”

“of course,” he nods politely, snapping out of his daze. his nimble fingers undo the knots you’ve created and he ties it easily for you, pulling it into a snug bow. “you look great, by the way.” immediately after the words leave his mouth, he regrets having added that bit, but you smile at him and give him a spin, letting your skirt fan out.

“thanks. wish me luck?”

“good luck,” shinsou laughs dryly, turning away quickly before you can notice the redness blooming on his cheeks. “remember, fourth floor and to the left. there’ll be a sign or something on the door.”

you wave, thanking him again, and you both go your separate ways. the elevator comes quickly, and you go upwards silently, until the elevator stops a floor too early.

“there’s my pretty co-star!” an energetic voice exclaims, and the owner of it steps onto the elevator, practically buzzing with excitement. “come on, we can head up together!”

you recognize him easily; denki kaminari’s signature blond hair has a streak of black through it, and he’s got a winning smile playing on his lips, showcasing his nice teeth.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, offering a hand in his direction. his energy isn’t off putting, just a little . . much for the first film of the day. kaminari instead wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a warm hug as though you’re a long lost friend of his.

the elevator’s chugging upwards slowly, and kaminari’s still wrapped around you. well, okay. this is slightly weird; you’re going to be all over each other in less than twenty minutes and he’s already this friendly? something about him already has you on edge, necktie suddenly feeling like a noose.

you cough, pulling away and practically skittering into the corner of the elevator. he looks at you weirdly, confusion written all over his face, but you straighten and smooth out the ruffles on your dress.

“i’m sorry, it’s—we just met,” you utter, at a loss for words. maybe this is just how he is, but now you’re starting to worry if you’ve jeopardized your dynamic on set with him.

kaminari’s features soften with embarrassment, cheeks growing pink. then he very obviously panics internally, voice frantic and high as he tries to explain himself.

“oh my god! you’re right, i’m so sorry!” he stumbles over his words, and you wonder if the elevator is stuck with how long it’s taking. “i’m sorry, i really . . i’ve wanted to meet you for the longest time, and now you must think i’m a dumbass—ah, sorry!”

at last, the elevator finally comes to a halt. its doors open and you dash out, kaminari following with his head hanging. before you can open the door, he stops you with a sigh.

“wait, i—i want to redo our first meeting.”

you turn, gracing him with your attention and patience. “and how exactly do you plan to redo it?”

“with a proper introduction and handshake. no hugs, i promise.” he seems genuine, and your shoulders start to relax. kaminari extends his hand, a truce, and envelops yours once you reach out too.

“well, you already know me. just call me denki, though, okay? no kaminari or anything.”

“understood, denki.”

the door is thrown open and director yaoyorozu pops her head out, looking left and right.

“there you two are! goodness, i was about to send out a search party.”

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, shaking her hand and stepping inside behind her. “in the email, you didn’t have any kind of script . . is this some kind of freestyle thing?”

“i am so glad you asked,” she sighs, pulling the sharpened pencil from behind her ear. “i’ve got a simple idea to go off of, but the rest of it is up to you.”

“up to us?” denki chokes out, sounding shocked.

“um, yes?” the director sniffs, confused. “remember, you came to me with all of this.”

“director yaomomo, i thought you’d come up with a script!” he whines lamely, and she only rolls her eyes.

“kaminari, please. next time you’re booking a set, director, and supplies last minute, make sure you’ve got something for them to work with besides a generic concept.”

“director, the pancakes are finished and the set is ready.” a member of the film crew flashes her a double thumbs up and a smile.

“great, thanks so much,” yaoyorozu gushes before turning back toward you and denki. “so, the theme here is maids, of course. in this film, she’ll be waiting on you and waking you up with breakfast while you’re fake sleeping. obviously, you’re aware of what takes place next.”

“so, minimal dialogue?” you ask, folding your arms as you listen closely.

“the scene may have as much dialogue as you want it to. i’ll let you two head off and prep before we get started, okay?”

director yaoyorozu’s dark ponytail swings behind her as she saunters off toward the set to make a few more adjustments. denki waves at you, then heads off toward the changing area while you sigh.

—

“is everyone entirely ready and in position?”

a few stage crew members adjust the lighting and some microphones before giving yaoyorozu confirmation through raised thumbs. she nods toward you, just as someone places a hefty tray into your hands. the silver platter carries a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes, drizzled in syrup, and a tall glass of orange juice beside it. matching silverware sits neatly beside the plate, atop a folded napkin.

yaoyorozu crosses her legs in her director’s chair, while you try not to shake with the heavy breakfast platter in your hands. orange juice lurches from side to side in the glass, threatening to spill over if you don’t remain steady.

“action!”

you smile when you step through the doorway, sweat beading along your forehead as you try to mask the nervousness. denki’s shirtless and on his stomach in the bed, a mess of sheets and blankets covering his lower half. trembling, you finally set the breakfast platter down on the bedside table, taking a seat on the bed.

denki’s getting hard just from feeling the shift of your weight on the mattress. the director might have to end filming early with the way his breath hitches at the touch of your palm to his back. slowly, you rub his skin in small circles, encouraging him to wake up. is it possible to be aroused from an almost entirely innocent gesture coming from someone you don’t know?

he stirs with a groan, turning over with a yawn. denki looks up at you through hooded eyes, his lower half still tangled in the bedsheets.

“good morning, sleepyhead,” you sigh, a lot less nervous now that you’re no longer holding onto that damn tray. “i made you breakfast and cleaned around the house. gently dusted your figure collection too.”

“t-thank you,” denki smiles, sitting up. “uh, what’s for breakfast?”

“blueberry pancakes and OJ,” you say automatically, cutting a piece off the sticky pastries with the fork. “i think you’ll love it.”

there’s something too intimate about the way you feed him the piece of the pancake, your eyes on his as he swallows it.

“well?” you breathe expectantly, lifting his chin and tilting it toward you when he shyly averts his eyes. the simple gesture startles him, sends his heart into quite the flurry, and denki finds himself fighting to get a grip. really, he’s never been this awkward on set in all his years as a pornstar—in fact, a film like this would be the easiest for him . . so why’s it so difficult?

a few sparks fly between you when denki grabs your chin in return, tugging you into a kiss. you gasp, startled, and he licks into your mouth, letting you taste the sweetness of the pancakes for yourself. seriously, whoever made them deserves head; they’re sweet and fruity, but maybe they just taste better on denki’s tongue.

he moans deeply against your lips, and you swallow the low sound with one of your own. beneath all the frills and lacy ruffles, sticky arousal begins to pool in your panties, soaking through the fabric far too easily. meanwhile, denki’s trepidation melts away fully; he grows more absorbed in the kiss, until he regretfully pulls away for breath.

you look at him through your lashes, nodding blissfully when he looks toward your skirt. denki slowly slips a hand beneath all the fabric and groans loudly, his fingers swiping at your damp panties before moving past the fabric to stroke your slick folds.

before you can move into another kiss, the director lets out a peeved sigh and shakes her head, “cut!”

denki pushes a finger inside of you, savoring the gasp you let out like a piece of specialty candy. “listen to yaomomo for both of us, ‘kay?”

“b-but they’re not rolling,” you protest in a whisper shout, although your hips jerk toward him when he sinks in all the way to his knuckle.

“no rules against it, baby.” the once anxious denki you met thirty minutes ago is gone, replaced with the confident pornstar you’ve come to know through years of watching UA’s videos.

yaoyorozu claps her hands together, facing you and denki but not noticing anything going on beneath the umbrella-like cover of your skirt.

“you’re both doing well so far, but when i said the amount of dialogue was up to you, i didn’t mean no talking at all.”

“do we have to reshoot what we’ve done so far?” you gasp out when denki curls his finger right against your g-spot, sending shockwaves of heat throughout your entire body.

nobody seems to notice the inflection in your voice, and the director offers a small smile.

“no, it’s alright, we’ll just edit everything together before it goes out. you’re both doing great, by the way!” her praise is reassuring, and she hops up onto her chair again, then gestures for the crew members to position the cameras.

“action.”

denki’s lips find yours in a bruising kiss, tongue swiping against your lower lip impatiently. he’s quick to pull you on top of him too, wet fingers tugging up your skirt to give the camera a full view of your soaked panties and ass.

“what about the pancakes?” you ask, remembering the director’s tip about the dialogue. if she were to call cut again, the interruption would surely drive you insane.

“what pancakes?”

“the ones i made for you,” you breathe against his lips, eyes flicking to the bedside table. “over there, with the—”

he takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his face into your neck, taking in the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. low and quiet, he whispers into your ear, “fuck, you’ve got no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this—for you.”

you whine as he kicks the bedsheets off his body, firmly placing you atop his hard cock. through your panties and his boxers, you can feel the ridges of his tip and the heat of his body.

“how do you want it?” denki purrs, hands settled on your hips. “from the back . . bent over?”

the options he gives you only ignite the arousal burning in your core further; you move off of him, settling on all fours. the wild look you toss him from over your shoulder makes him groan, and he yanks his underwear and pajama pants off as quickly as he can, hurling them into a corner of the set.

“fuckin’ soaked, baby,” he coos, flipping up your skirt and slipping a few fingers beneath the crotch of your panties. your cunt flutters around nothing as he pulls the underwear off, with enough force for the microphones to pick up the ripping sound that follows. “is this all for me?”

he flings the torn garment off the bed carelessly, and it silently lands somewhere on the carpet.

“o-only for you.”

denki chuckles, and guides his cock toward your entrance, but doesn’t push it in just yet. instead, he strokes the tip up and down, gathering your wetness to provide extra lubrication. the tease has your toes curling and your eyes rolling back; denki gifts your ass with a slap, letting out a low whistle.

“you’ll get what you want soon enough, baby. i just . . feel like something’s missing.”

you look over your shoulder when the bed creaks, your co star’s weight leaving the mattress. he grabs at the drawer of the bedside table, and the glass of orange juice rattles against the silver platter from the movement. even director yaoyorozu looks a little lost for words, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

the drawer slams shut and denki returns to the bed behind you in a flash, a miniature black and white vibrator between his fingers. yaoyorozu settles back into her chair with a contented expression, signaling for the cameraman to zoom in between your bodies.

the soft, rubbery head of the vibrator nudges against your clit and you gasp. denki slants his body over yours, pushing his cock inside of you shallowly.

“i—i don’t think i can t-take all of it,” you swallow nervously, inhaling sharply when he bucks his hips forward and plunges inside you, bottoming out easily.

“that’s fuckin’ nonsense,” he groans, pushing a hand through his blond hair to get it away from his eyes. then it wraps loosely around your throat before you can protest any further. “‘course my girl can take it.”

my girl?

denki startles even himself. but this is the magic of being a pornstar and filming around the clock. he’s built up a persona for himself that he always seems to slip into no matter how he’s feeling. he’s thankful for this; otherwise, he’d be a bumbling fool who’d accidentally fuck your thighs, too caught up with excitement to get it together.

his teeth sink into his lower lip hard, scraping against the skin rather roughly as the words burst from his lips uncontrollably.

“g-god, you’ve got no idea how damn long i’ve been waiting to fuck this pretty pussy,” the vibrator turns on and presses flush against your clit, already at the highest setting. “ngh, you’re so tight, baby—got me all worked up with the little maid dress, heh. you look beautiful in it, i swear.”

his babbling soon falls on deaf ears, and you unintentionally tune him out, unable to hear him clearly over your ragged moans and cries. denki’s hips set a somewhat even pace, skin smacking into skin while the vibrator seems to only get more intense.

“c’mon, babe, arch a lil more for me,” he huffs, his palm nudging against the middle of your back.

with a whine, you do as he instructs, burying your face in the sheets.

“aw, i still wanna hear you clearly.” denki clicks his tongue, his fingers leaving the sides of your throat and instead tugging on your necktie. he turns it backwards and pulls your head back so you’re not muffled any longer.

“f-fuck, you’re so deep,” you sob, his strokes growing faster and rougher. the bed creaks beneath you, shaking loudly, and despite his panting, denki’s determined to give you the best sex you’ll ever have at UA studios.

“yeah, babe? feel my cock right here in your tummy?” denki’s voice is strained, his free hand wandering to the plush skin above your pelvis. he presses down experimentally, and he swears you get tighter.

it’s only a little pressure, but it sends shockwaves of something intense throughout your body and knocks the breath from your lungs.

“ooh, you’re squeezin’ me real tight,” denki comments breathily, “i want you to cum for me, got that?”

“‘m so close,” you sob, tossing your ass back onto his cock. “wanna—wanna cum on your cock!”

this is it. this is the big moment where he makes you cum twice on camera and shows all his friends who can fuck you the best. his mouth feels dry and he’s unable to say much of anything to spur you on, talk you through it.

the noisy metal bedframe squeaks louder, the mattress sliding side to side from all the movement. denki doesn’t let up, biting down on his lip so hard he draws some blood while he fucks you through the exhaustion and pain in his sides.

at last, highly anticipated euphoria courses through your bodies at the same time, and his cock begins to twitch against your cervix. a whiny moan tears from his lips as he spills deep inside you, trembling hands grabbing at your waist for purchase. the vibrator maintains its high setting, not letting up even once—in the moment, it’s amazing to ride the waves as you cum, but as you’re coming down, you begin to shudder away from it.

“hah—ah, shit,” you cry, voice pitching. denki pulls out of you, eyes widening in delight as he looks over your sloppy cunt, drooling with a mixture of your cum and his own. glossy strings of white leak from your hole, sticking to your thighs every time you jerk away from the vibrator. “i-it’s too much.”

“oh, ‘m sorry babe,” the words roll off his tongue, each syllable oozing with faux sympathy. lucky for you, denki clicks the vibrator off and tosses it somewhere in the sheets. you don’t notice him moving to lay on his stomach, too busy trying to catch your breath. “she’s looking messy down there, hm?”

denki’s breath now fans over your wet pussy, his words low and sultry. you look over your shoulder in confusion, sweat shining on your forehead, bitten lips parting to ask a question, but he interrupts.

“i can clean her up for you.”

with that final statement, denki’s tongue presses flat against your slit and he moans, tasting the evidence of what seems to be his best porno yet. he slurps up the mess eagerly, holding you in place by your hips whenever you try to squirm away.

it’s bittersweet, slick pouring down his chin and making his skin shine while his own cum colors his lips white. you can’t do anything but whimper, looking back at him through hooded eyes that well with tears of overstimulation.

“i know, i know,” he mumbles into you when your body jolts, and you suck in a sharp breath. “i jus’ want to make sure you can’t move after this.”

a thorough pussy pounding and now this? there’s no way you’ll be able to stop shaking.

nimble fingers find your swollen clit and give it a light pinch, then gently stroke over it; he thinks the reaction it elicits from you is absolutely delicious—your expression crumbles and you rock your hips back against his face, dragging your cunt all over him.

he’s drunk on your scent and taste, taking as much of you in as he can. director yaoyorozu looks pleased as she whispers something to a member of the film crew, but you don’t even notice her through the sweltering haze of arousal. denki pushes the skirt further up your body, and the resounding sob that leaves your lips has him smiling against your cunt.

against your slit, his silky tongue paints peculiar patterns that your dizzy brain manages to register as the letters of his name. “fuck, ‘m gonna c-cum, ‘s coming—” your fingers tangle in his blonde hair, yanking him into your cunt as the high hits you, toes curling and teeth chattering together.

denki’s eyes roll back as you cum on his face, but then you’re trembling and moving away when the sensitivity finally sets in. your pussy is puffy and twitching, entirely spent for the day.

“woah,” he catches you with an arm when you drop flat on the bed, shuddering with the aftershocks of it all. “you good, baby?”

his lips press into your temple and you nod, huffing as you try to catch your breath. unconsciously, you start to cuddle into him, arms wrapping shakily around his torso.

it’s hard to remember where you are, stars swirling in your vision, but the sight of the microphone a few meters away snaps you back into professional mode. god, you haven’t been this dazed since your early days at shiketsu, where you’d been booking with some of the biggest men at the studio.

“i-i wish i didn’t have to, but,” you huff quietly, slowly raising from the bed to smooth out your dress and then look for your panties. you make a big show of bending over, giving the camera a great view of your quivering, dripping cunt. you swipe the underwear from the carpet with a relieved sigh, turning to face denki, who’s nibbling at his lower lip, already hard again. “i’m not finished cleaning the house yet. maybe i can make you some lunch later, when i’m done?”

the cheeky suggestion has an unintentional effect, denki’s cheeks darkening perfectly for the scene. he nods slowly, caught in a stupor. you blow a kiss toward him, stepping through the fake doorway and off the set.

after a beat of silence, director yaoyorozu calls for a cut. she hops off her tall chair and claps excitedly, while crew members rush to strip the bed and clean up the set. on jelly-like legs, you wobble over to her, standing beside denki with a small smile.

“excellent, the two of you,” she praises, ponytail swishing as she nods. “i’ll update both of your agents once we get this to the editors. hehe, my intuition tells me this’ll do very well.”

you thank her together, before parting your separate ways toward the dressing areas—at least you try to, but denki trails behind you quietly, cheeks still blazing pink.

“kaminari, is everything alright?” you step behind the shoji screen, the makeshift dressing room. without needing to be asked, his fingers find the zipper at your back and he loosens the maid dress for you.

“denki,” he corrects you with an embarrassed laugh, leaning his body against the shoji in an attempt to come across as relaxed. “i wanted to ask you about—”

the shoji screen topples over the moment his weight rests against it, smashing to the floor with a loud bang! you shriek, gathering the dress up around your chest as your co-star rushes to pick it up before anyone can look over. he is unsuccessful, much to your chagrin.

“oh my fucking—i’m so sorry, shit.”

“what is it you wanted to ask, denki?” you ask, embarrassed. it’s like you’re back to square one again, as if you weren’t just doing the nastiest things together less than ten minutes ago. he throws a hand behind his neck, awkwardly scratching the skin as he tries to calm his nerves.

“okay, look. me and a few friends of mine—UA stars—” he adds in that bit in case you need some extra convincing, “are hosting a little get together. i’m thinking maybe you can come and hang out for a little while? i can pick you up, if you—”

“that’s very nice of you.”

the interruption makes his heart drop straight into his ass, and he immediately looks down at his bare feet. but then you speak up, and he feels a spark of hope in his chest. after all, he did promise his friends that he’d introduce you to them.

“i live nearby, i moved apartments to be closer to the studio,” you admit, fingers loosening on the dress. “what time is it? i’d be willing to meet some other stars, get acquainted with everyone.”

denki looks at you, joy written all over his face. he flashes you a bright smile, nodding as he collects his thoughts. “everything starts at eight. i can just pick you up, ‘kay? here, i’ve gotta give you my number.”

you laugh, pushing him back. “i’ve gotta change first, the dress is really itchy. we’ll work it out when i’m done, sound good?”

he steps out from behind the shoji screen after nodding, gold eyes shining. before he can walk away toward his own makeshift dressing room, you stop him, smiling in a way that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“hey, denki? by the way, i’m really looking forward to tonight.”

[wondersinwaynemanor]

some Wayne gala shenanigans

Damian: Some people have no shame.

Jon, a plate of brûlée on his hand: What do you mean?

Damian: Tt. Those so called classy, but actually pretentious women are embarrassing themselves for not understanding the memo.

Jon: What memo?

Damian turns his eyes away from the sight of some women, trying their best to get his brothers' attention and to the said memo.

As said memo are two redheads, and a half kryptonian and half human eating by the food area.

more women approach his brothers.

Damian, frowns: We need to save Richard, Todd and Drake.

Jon: They do look uncomfortable.

Damian, sighs: I have to enter the battlefield.

Jon, pats Damian's shoulder: You will be remembered by your bravery, Dames.

Damian breathes and walks towards the inner circle.

before Damian can even say anything else, the women have started cooing at him.

Damian internally cringes and he hopes this would be worth it.

thankfully, Damian don't have to suffer long as Wally, Roy and Conner join the commotion.

Roy: Sorry, Jaybaby. *he has that crooked smile, that Jason personally adores, as he wraps an arm around his waist* I was caught up at the food buffet. Want something to eat?

Jason, internally thanks the heavens for Roy and leans close to him: Starved. Excuses, everyone.

Todd is saved. Check.

Wally: Come on, honey. *holds Dick's hand and leads him away* I deserve a dance.

Dick, smiles like an idiot and holds Wally's hand: I better go, ladies. He gets a temper. Have a good night.

Richard is saved. Check.

Conner, touches Tim's shoulder then his cheek: Want something to drink? You seem tired, babe.

Tim, finally feeling awake for the first time since this happened and touches Conner's hand that's on his face: Yes, please, babe. Ladies, will you excuse me?

Drake is saved. Check.

the ladies are left speechless. some are jealous. some are frustrated they can't get the Wayne fortune. but, some are in awe.

Damian, lightly smirks: It's never gonna happen, ladies. Now, enjoy your night. Excuse me.

he finds Jon by the sweets section.

Damian, nudges Jon's arm: Thank you for that, Jon.

Jon, smiles: It's nothing. I needed to save you too.

they give each other a high five then proceed to challenge the other on who can eat the most chocolate covered strawberries.

[iisasxia]

would you ever think about writing for shigaraki? Or one of the villains? I love the heroes but there's just something about this skinny man when he's half naked that makes me FERAL.

Yes I do !! Ironically my favorite mha villain IS Shigaraki, he is soooooo fine. Especially in the episode where they break him out of the glass tube and he was in that black suit. I had to rewind 🤭

So so happy to write for this man, thank you bby for the ask 💗

- author

Tomura never wears a shirt. It’s so common and normal to see him walking around in sweats, a pair of headphones wrapped around his neck, and those stupid fuzzy sandals Dabi got him one year for Christmas. (He burned his other shoes so he has to wear them)

It was an unusual hot day and everyone was melting, you were sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand while groaning at the thought of even moving a finger. You were wearing small jean shorts, a tank top and your hair was up out of your face. You were scrolling on tik tok before getting a notification..

[Tomu]: hey

[Tomu]: bring me a water

[Tomu]: please.

You groaned before getting up off the couch to bring him a drink from the fridge, he had been in his room for hours on end. I mean to be fair it did have the best air conditioning but nothing to as stopping him from getting it himself. You opened the fridge and grabbed the water, it was freezing. You looked around before opening it and taking a small sip, it’s not like he’d notice anyways, and plus you’re doing him the favor of bringing it to him.

You close it tight before exhaling in sudden relief at the cold sensation spreading throughout your body. You stretched your arms above your head, now revealing your pelvic bone before reaching for the drink and heading to his room.

You knock on the door.

“Im coming in.” It was good to give warnings , one time you walked in on him changing and weren’t able to look him in the eye for about a week. He didn’t mind whether you knocked or not, it’s not like he had anything to hide.

You open the door and to no surprise he’s sitting and rotting away in his gaming chair. The room was cold though, it was so nice.

You take in his messy figure, his toned arms flexing as he pressed the buttons on the controller, his jawline and side profile looked amazing from this angle, and his-

“Thanks.”

The response broke you out of your daze as you let go of the water bottle after having placed it on his desk.

“Yeah no problem” and you look at a poster on the wall that you could have sworn to of recognized when you went out to the mall last week.

What you didn’t notice was him taking in your figure. Since it was hot you wore a tank top with nothing to cover underneath.. and since his room was cold, it prominently revealed your nipples to his field of his vision. Now he was fully looking at you. Your little shorts, the slight sweat between your thighs, how your shirt is slightly rising up, the sweat dripping from your jawline and how your hair is a bit messy but cute.

You look back at him and he’s just playing the game.

“Did you need anything else ?” you place your hand on your hip as you talk to him.

He shook his head.

“Okay well I’ll be out there if you need me.” And with that you turn away and head to the door, until a sudden tug against your belt loop on your shorts pulls you back.

“Tomura ??” You turn to look at him with furrowed eyebrows only for them to sprint up when you realize what he was going to say.

“Did you take a sip of the water ?”

his voice was low, it didn’t indicate that he was mad, just curious.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head..

But before you could explain his tall figure was now hovering over you. Your back pressed against his desk and his hands on both sides. On any other day he would’ve let you walk away with it but he was in a bad mood, especially with this heat.

“Tomura-?“

his hand on your hip tugging you close to him was enough to make your knees weak, this was a different side of him, and the dirty smirk on his face was only making the heat between your legs grow.

—

“Since you wanna take a sip of my drink I might as well give you a real reason to be hot.”

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

au where ghost, who either never enlisted or is discharged/retired, works as a scare actor in a local haunt. he really enjoys the play pretend part of haunted houses, where yes people scream at the sight of him masked, covered in fake blood, and wielding a (chainless, but still loud) chainsaw, but they also laugh at themselves or their friends or just because. It’s safe, there are rules, everyone knows that when going in so everyone is on the same page.

Or at least, everyone should be. Because there’s always Those Guests, the ones who drag unwilling partners or friends with them just to watch them scream. Or the ones who try to show off for their less than enthusiastic partners and just run off screaming. Ghost has a knack for breaking these kinds of guests, and takes a bit of selfish pleasure in doing so.

That’s what he thinks is going to happen when he sees a small group of maybe four or five teenagers coming through his section of the maze. One of them, clearly the ringleader, is talking a whole lot of shit, playing himself up for the “entertainment” of the girl next to him who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. So ghost revs his chainsaw, and gets ready to pounce.

The shriek the ringleader lets out is nothing but satisfying, cracking on the high note as the whole group hightails it out of there. Well, almost the whole group. As it turns out, the ringleader isn’t above sacrificing his date to spare himself, and all but throws the girl at Ghost as soon as he pops out. Ghost nearly drops his saw trying to catch her, who goes down like a sack of bricks.

The girl, who Ghost learns is named Maggie, twisted her ankle pretty badly when she was pushed, is a chatterbox once she gets over the whole “chucked at a masked serial killer by her kind of sort of not really boyfriend”. He ended up carrying her backstage once they both realized she couldn’t put any weight on her ankle and she rants about the guy and his bullshit without seemingly taking a breath. Ghost manages to butt in, asking if she has a way home. Maggie, unsurprisingly, says that her not boyfriend gave her a ride, but she could call her older brother to come get her.

They wait backstage for him to arrive, and Ghost finds he doesn’t mind the chatter. His opinion of Maggie’s “friends” gets lower and lower with every word, but he’s not going to tell her that. He can’t, not with how on a roll she is.

Price, who manages the haunt with his partner Nikolai, lets the two of them know that the brother is here, and Ghost can hear him cussing up a storm down the hallway.

He’s not prepared for John MacTavish to storm in, furious and ready to kill. Maggie looks entirely unsurprised, maybe even a little annoyed. There’s banter between the two, that good natured sibling rubbing that only comes when you know a person their entire life, but Ghost can’t hear it. He’s just bluescreened in the corner, because holy shit.

John finally looks at him to thank him for helping Maggie, and he stops cold. Ghost is half worried the whole blood and guts getup is enough to earn him a right hook to the face. Instead, a faint blush rises on John’s cheeks.

Maggie is so done with this, and hobbles out with the help of the entirely too entertained Gaz and Roach.

After much stumbling over his words, Ghost manages to earn himself both a hastily scribbled phone number on the back of a haunt flier and a tentative date the next week. Not at a haunt, thank god. John leaves with a wave and a bashful smile. Ghost can’t do much more than wave back.

Well. Back to work, he guesses.

(And if ghost goes back to stalk and scare the piss out of Maggie’s “friends”, that’s just between the two of them)

[targaryen-dynasty]

SEMPITERNAL. (5/5)

Dad!Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, breeding kink, slight praise kink, kinda medieval daddy kink (?), size kink, lactation kink, lactating, pregnancy, pregnant sex

WORDS: 4.3 K

NOTES: Precious Delights comes to an end with this. I‘m a bit sad, because I really started to love the series, but I think I've managed to end it in a good way. Thanks to everyone that joined me on this journey.

It was going to be a day of revelry. The construction of the Red Keep had been completed, and your husband found it fitting to throw a feast in celebration for those who had taken part in it. 

Taking on a fatherly aura the moment your twins took their first breaths, Maegor didn’t want the festivities to start without his precious family present, even though you were meant to depart for your chambers once they started to indulge themselves in bawdier things. 

“You have to sit still if you want Mama to finish the braid quickly,” you warned the little girl sitting in front of you, though there was no sharpness to your tone, knowing you could not expect your daughter to sit still for so long. She was just three summers old after all, and just as excited about the feast as everybody else. 

Your own flowing locks loosely cascaded down your back and shoulders, not combed and unbraided as you had been taking care of your children the whole morning, often taking their care into your own hands as they were a blessing from the Gods above. And, while Visenya was clad in a black dress that once belonged to you when you were around the same age, your swollen curves still were concealed by a white nightgown. 

The raspy chuckle you heard, as your little girl didn’t remain still long enough for you to finish the task properly, prompted you to turn your head towards your husband, sitting in a stool not too far away while the barber tended to his hair and neatly trimmed beard. 

You raised an eyebrow in innocent enquiry at the sound, which briefly changed into something different while your eyes flickered over his frame. He was dressed, but barely. His cloak, and most pieces of his wardrobe, still were draped over a chair across the room from where he sat. His torso was exposed from the waist up, covered only by the leather breeches he wore. 

Maegor had a grin on his lips – entirely different to the expression he usually wore around servants and maids. In the confines of your chambers, he often lowered his guard, not too concerned about what others thought was proper. But in the presence of other people, he was always focused on remaining harsh and cold, wanting to display his dominance and power. 

“Have you been at this all morning?” Maegor asked, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes trailed over your body just like yours had done before. A hint of nervousness filled your veins, and you scolded yourself internally for your thoughts to stray towards things you should not be thinking at that moment. 

Not bothering to hide the blush that covered your cheeks, you finally replied. “Yes, I started at first light, not long after you left. I was hoping to finish before sundown, but this little one…,” you emphasized the word, causing your daughter to glance over her shoulder, flashing her father a big smile, “... has other ideas.”

You continued to braid her hair, trying to stop the braid from becoming too tight whilst also keeping the little princess’ fidgeting at bay. The barber was done trimming Maegor’s beard at this point, packing his utensils and scurrying off at once. 

“You would think that at three she would be more disciplined,” you sighed, smiling softly at your daughter. “But she takes after you.” Briefly pressing your lips into a thin line, you wondered if you had overindulged yourself in the bantering the moment the words slipped past your lips, and if Maegor knew you were just joking. Partially, at least. 

Visenya was the spitting image of your husband in more ways than one. Not when it came to the looks, as she was taking after you in that, but her rambunctious spirit was most definitely one of the attributes she shared with him. Aerion, however, was a different story. His looks resembled Maegor’s more and more with each passing day, while he had inherited your gentle presence. 

As Maegor chuckled, your frayed nerves calmed again. “You might have been better off dressing yourself before attempting to braid her hair,” he jested. 

“And I thought you might have helped, instead of sitting there and making witty comments,” you replied, glancing at Maegor, and trying to disguise your slight frustration as playfulness, directing your husband to your current predicament. 

You knew you couldn’t expect the King to take care of his children, not on an important day like this, but you also knew that Maegor more often than not had deferred his duties in the past in order to bond with the twins. 

Not wanting to admit defeat, you continued to braid your daughter’s hair, fighting against her lack of patience, and trying to finish before she kicked the entire braid off her head. Eventually, you were successful, pulling the braid into a bun behind little Visenya’s head. 

Maegor rose from his seat, and walked over to where you sat behind your daughter. He focused his attention on her, admiring her and your work for a moment, a soft sigh escaping him as he scooped her up into his arms. 

You smiled at the sight, your heart swelling in your chest, more so as you watched the gentleness with which he handled her. In a feeble attempt, Visenya tried to escape his bear hug, grumbling slightly as he snuggled her head and smelt her hair. It was the same as whenever you did it, but something in your children’s scents was just too intoxicating. 

Tilting his head back, Visenya’s little hands grazed over his beard, seemingly enjoying the feeling of the coarse hairs under her fingers just as much as you did, before she placed them at the sides of his thick neck for stability. 

He smiled softly at your daughter, a smile that scarcely graced his features when looking at you. It was gentle and loving, and whenever his eyes met yours, his expression was tinted with desire and longing. 

“Does Mama not know that your Papa is a skilled swordsman, and not a hairdresser?” Maegor asked your daughter in a playful tone, swaying her in his arms and pressing his lips to her temple. She was giggling uncontrollably, barely comprehending what he said, clearly keening at his affection and attention. 

When the doors to your chambers opened, the wet nurse came in with a styled and dressed prince at her side. Getting Aerion ready had taken you one hour at most, and was far less complicated. 

Upon spotting his father carrying his sister in his strong arms, the boy all but barrelled towards him in jealousy. The wet nurse failed to pull him back, leaving him as he tugged on the leg of Maegor‘s leather breeches, demanding to be picked up as well. 

You used the opportunity and leaned past Maegor, trying to fix a stray strand of Aerion’s silver hair – but the excited boy didn't have any of it. 

“My my, look who is here,” Maegor said with a smile, kneeling down while carrying Visenya on his hip.

The boy hugged his father tightly, squeezing him with all the strength he could muster with his tiny arms, which left Maegor chuckling. You could not feel any greater joy than seeing the brute of a man, mostly known for his harshness, so soft and full of affection for his children. 

“I want up, Papa. I want up, now,” the boy demanded, wrapping his arms around Maegor’s neck. The sight was adorable, and you could see on your husband’s face just how much he basked in your children’s affection. 

“Up you say, mh?” Placing a hand under the boy’s bottom, your husband lifted him up with ease, carrying both children on his hips. 

You sighed, bringing a hand to your swollen belly as you planted your feet firmly on the ground, and slowly rose from your seat. It was evident Maegor had wanted to help you, to reach out to support you, but with both arms filled with your twins, he could merely offer you his forearm for you to hold onto. 

This pregnancy was not as woeful as your first one, truly a blessing from the Gods above. And your husband was more generous this time as well, allowing you to walk the gardens and the keep all by yourself, despite it taking you a bit longer to be with child again. The pregnancy in general was not that strenuous for your body, though your breasts and bump had swollen to ridiculous proportions already, and you barely exceeded the fifth moon. 

Approaching them, you brought both hands up to their cheeks, the pad of your thumbs brushing along their soft skin as they leaned into your touch. “That is enough, you two,” you hummed, smiling softly. “You must go with Erena now. We have guests arriving soon, and Mama is not ready yet. It would not do to keep our guests waiting.” 

The twins pouted, but with neither you nor Maegor being too lax with them, they knew there was no chance they could stay for any longer. You motioned for the wet nurse to approach, before you cupped your children’s faces one by one, and pressed a kiss to their foreheads. 

“Aye, you have heard your mama,” Maegor said, having your back. His eyes had taken over a half-lidded look as they were all but glued to your features, your lips mostly, watching you and admiring your motherly aura. 

He put both of them down, but not without ruffling your boy’s hair in a way that had you taking in a deep breath, trying to keep the anger of him destroying Aerion’s hairdo at bay. 

Clinging to the wet nurse's hands, they left the room at once, no doubt going to their chambers for her to read them a book. There were merely two servants around you at this point, stopping in their tracks as Maegor’s deep voice rang out. “Leave us,” he ordered sternly, his usual demeanor crawling back to the surface. 

It was the side of him your children were not meant to see, at least for now, and with Maegor’s paw coming to your swollen belly once you were alone, the softness returned. Cupping your bump gently, he looked down at it in awe.

“Are you ready for the feast?” you asked, smiling softly at him before your eyes trailed over the expanse of his bare chest. 

“I am, for as long as you’re by my side,” he said, his other hand trailing over the slight curve of your waist. Both his hands now rested where the swell was, feeling the gentle curve of your bump. When he spoke again, you could hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice, his words making you chuckle. “But I fear the crowd will pay more attention to you than me.” 

Bringing your hands up to his face, you cupped it just like you had done with the twins before, your thumbs brushing the stubble on his jaw. His eyes softened, fixing yours. “I can not wait for you to be with my fourth child,” he spoke with a mischievous grin. 

You raised a brow. “Oh, only if you will be the one carrying the babe,” you retorted, the tease in your voice and sparkle in your eyes hinting at something only he would understand. “I doubt this pregnancy will spare me from the terrible birthing pains, and I do not know whether I can endure it for a third time.”

Maegor sighed at your words, his hands running over your sides once more, before one moved to the back of your head, threading into your thick locks. Gently tugging your head back, he leaned down to press a kiss to your jaw. 

“Would you like me to try?” he chuckled against your skin, pulling back just enough for you to spot the smirk on his lips. His tone had taken on a huskier edge, one that always forced you to squeeze your thighs together. “The Gods will be on our side this time. There will be only one babe, I am sure.” 

Licking his lips, he kept his grip on your hair, and pulled your face towards his. You anticipated a kiss, but alas, he kept a few inches between your faces, your heavy breaths fanning over each other's lips. 

You tried to chase him for a kiss, but Maegor kept your head in place. “I hope you know the dangers of challenging a Targaryen man,” he teased. 

Oh, you did know. More than once had he proven that it was just not wise to challenge him. It was impossible for him to resist a good challenge, no matter how bold or brazen. Your late brother Aegon was the perfect example, and also the reason he and his dragon Quicksilver were slain by your uncle in the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye. 

Slinging your arms around his thick neck, you kept your eyes locked with his, a mischievous glint flickering in them. “I shall take my chances,” you replied, biting your bottom lip. 

That was the last bit that caused his resolve to crumble. Bowing his head forwards, he pressed his lips to yours fervently, void of any gentleness. Your hair was released, only for him to snake one arm around your waist and bring the other to your arse. Cupping it, it was easy for him to lift you up, holding your body to his in a cradle carry with your lips still connected. 

You pulled back from him to chuckle breathlessly. “We can’t… not now,” you laughed, bringing a hand to his bare chest as if you meant to stop him. “Our guests will soon arrive.”

But he was not having any of it. “Oh, is that so?” he taunted, slowly walking towards your marital bed, shrugging his shoulders when he came to a stop. “Let them, they can wait.”

You stared up at Maegor with wide eyes as he placed you down on the bed, one of your hands cupping your bump, while the other just rested on your chest, your full breasts hard and heavy. He stood at the side of the bed, and began to undo the laces in the front of his breeches. 

As much as you wanted to lock your gaze with his, your eyes always trailed down to where his fingers were fumbling with the laces, your breathing growing heavier and your mouth running dry. 

Maegor was the most handsome of all men, and his other skills were unparalleled. Even though his cock was the only one you had seen, you knew Maegor was very well endowed, and probably possessed one of the most beautiful cocks in Westeros.

Unable to wait any longer, you tugged the skirts of your nightgown up as much as your bump allowed, and shimmied your way out of your smallclothes. Your swollen belly was obvious, but you hadn’t thought of it as so obtrusive. But your husband didn’t seem to mind, if anything, he was even more determined and motivated to have his way with you.

Maegor eyed you just as hungrily, and his jaw set as he noticed the slight glistening of your womanhood as you spread your legs. You were eager and ready to take him. 

Stripping the last of his clothes off, Maegor joined you in bed, making himself at home between your parted legs. Leaning over you, careful not to put any of his weight on your bump, he planted kisses to the side of your neck, trailing up to your lips. His large frame completely covered your significantly smaller one, making you feel protected and safe as your fingers entangled into his silver strands, tugging on them gently and keeping his lips locked on yours. 

His cock was hard, pressing snugly against your soaked womanhood, sure to coat the underside of it and the sac of his stones in your arousal. You couldn’t help but to grind your hips against him, rutting your swollen folds against his hard member which prompted him to groan against your lips. 

“Be still, would you,” Maegor scolded, but his tone was void of any harshness. 

But you couldn’t. Not when your body craved to be filled by him so badly. And Maegor seemed to notice your despair. He sat back on his haunches, looking down at you. The pout on your lips had him smirking smugly. “You have teased me long enough,” you whimpered, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s what I deserve after this strenuous morning.”

Raising his brow, Maegor sighed – he was admitting his defeat. “I shall make it quick for you then.”

His hands roamed over your bump, the white silk allowing them to slide over it with ease. He then proceeded to lean to the side, fetching one of the pillows next to you and folding it in half. 

Maegor hooked one hand beneath your knee, and used that grip to lift your hips, slipping the pillow beneath them to slightly raise your body for him, and make your back arch in a way that was not uncomfortable. It caused your swollen breasts to spill from the low neckline of your nightgown, the white silk dampened and darkened by the droplets of milk that had oozed out of your hardened buds. 

“Let me take care of you, mama,” Maegor drawled, his dark blown eyes traveling over your frame. Despite most of your body still concealed by your nightgown, he couldn’t be any more attracted to and aroused by you than he was in that moment.  

Gripping the base of his cock, he used your arousal to tug on him once, twice, before aligning the tip with your throbbing entrance. He was completely focused and careful as he pushed inside, moving slow enough for you to feel every vein and ridge of his cock drag along your walls. 

“Gods be good,” you moaned, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out by him, bliss taking over your senses. 

Your husband remained upright, his hands on your knees as he started with a slow, deep grinding. Your smaller one found his and held onto him for stability and to feed your longing for his touch, your eyes never leaving his. You felt the familiar heat building in your belly quicker than usual, the coarse hair around his member grazing over your sensitive pearl every time he moved and fueling the pleasure you felt. 

“You truly were made for me,” he grunted, a large hand moving to splay over your bump, covering most of it. “The most beautiful woman in the realm, swollen with my seed and carrying my children.” With a blush covering your cheeks, you bit your bottom lip, stifling a wanton moan. 

Noticing the color on your cheeks, Maegor smirked, slightly increasing the pace of his hips, his cock hitting deep enough to drag over the spot that had you whining and whimpering. You were squeezing him so well, making it impossible for him to keep going for much longer – not that you had time to do so anyways. 

Your pearl throbbed with anticipation, and your cunt clenched and convulsed around his member, announcing your approaching peak and coaxing grunts and groans to escape his parted lips. 

You tipped your head back into the pillows, unraveling beneath him as you closed your eyes in bliss. 

“So good,” he groaned, reaching to rub your bump before trailing his hand up to your full breasts. “I shall fuck you full of my seed, and bed you until your womb runs dry.” You weren’t sure if it were his words, the thoughts accompanying them or the sensual rolling of his hips, but your brain went fuzzy with pleasure, clouding each thought to the point you couldn't think straight and answer him. 

His big hand tugged the neckline of your nightgown down to the point it ripped at the seam, freeing your breasts from their confines. It could have been a growl or a groan rumbling in his chest – either way it sounded threatening and dangerous, lured out by the sight of your leaking breasts. Clamping one of your darkened buds between his calloused fingers, he squeezed it to force some more droplets of milk out of it, coating his fingers in it.

Bringing them up to his lips, he sucked them clean with a groan, only for him to pay equal attention to your other breast not long after. It was not much, but already helped enough to relieve some of the pressure and ease the fullness. 

You bit your bottom lip and started up at him with half-lidded eyes, a teasing grin on your lips. “Want to get your fill, papa?” you asked, feigned innocence weaving itself through your tone. 

Maegor panted heavily, his eyes glued to where his fingers were milking you. “You little minx,” his husky voice drawled, interrupted by strained breaths. He was close. “Later.”

The coil in your belly tightened each time his body rutted against your pearl in combination with his fingers on your breasts, and it eventually snapped and allowed your peak to wash over your body with a loud cry. Maegor watched you mesmerized, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered around his cock with relief etched onto your features. 

He seized the opportunity, and bowed his bull-like body forwards, placing one hand next to your frame to support his weight as he increased the pace and intensity of his thrusts. Your cunt melted around his hard member, sucking him in with each snap of his hips.

You couldn't deny the slight aching that started to blossom between your legs, growing more apparent with the repercussions of your peak slowly subsiding, but you knew Maegor was racing for completion at this point, his breathing ragged and his jaw set. 

“When this babe is born…,” he rambled, panting in between the words. Strands of his blonde hair fell in front of his eyes, a sheen of sweat on his skin. “… I shall fuck another into you. I can not get enough of watching your body swell with my seed, making it clear to everyone that you are mine.”

“Y-Yes, Gods, please.” The flush on your cheeks grew hotter, matching the growing volume of your whimpers and moans. Suddenly, the thought of another babe growing inside of you didn’t seem too bad. 

It was with a final thrust of his hips that his body finally relented, his cock spending in a burst so strong Maegor stilled his movements. You felt him twitch and throb inside of you, spilling his seed and painting your walls as you milked him for every drop. 

The sight was divine. His muscular body crouched forwards slightly, blonde strands framing his chiseled features, beads of sweat highlighting his flexing muscles, and his jaw set tight enough you feared for his teeth. 

If you weren’t with his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit. 

Every muscle in his body was tensed, until he eventually collapsed into the vacant spot right next to you, careful not to put any weight on your swollen belly. His flaccid cock slipped out of you in the process, causing you to pout at the sudden feeling of emptiness. 

But you were quickly distracted when you looked to the side, studying him carefully. The blissful smile on his lips sent heat straight through your veins again, reigniting the fire and longing for more. You traced your fingertips over his sharp cheekbones, while his hand had remained splayed over your bump in a protective manner. 

Moving to lie on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, mischievous thoughts filled your head, inspired the moment you glanced down at his thick cock. Teasing and arousing you was a weapon only Maegor possessed, and he wielded it so perfectly – intended or not. 

“Mh, our guests may have to wait a little longer,” you said, voice laced with desire. 

It was a bit troublesome for you to get up, but once you managed to do so, you moved to straddle your husband’s hips, his cock trapped between your soaked womanhood and his lower stomach.  

He watched you with an eyebrow raised, but made no move to stop you. You rutted your hips over his length, coating him in your mixed essences and coaxing him to full hardness again. 

Maegor propped himself up on his elbows, a groan leaving his lips, and brought his paws up to graze over your sides. He understood what you wanted, and was eager to give you just that. With unsurprising strength, he fisted the silk of your nightgown and tore it in half, exposing your whole body to him. 

You gasped, more because of the chill air hitting your hot skin than the shock of the sudden movements. 

Licking a flat stripe over the curve of your full breast before wrapping his lips around your hard bud, Maegor sucked on it a few times to swallow some of your milk. You moaned at the stimulation, tipping your head back as your cunt clenched around nothing. 

He pulled back with a string of saliva connecting his swollen lips and your skin, glancing up at you mischievously. And when he spoke, his voice was husky and strained, teasing you with a smug smirk on his lips. “I think they will understand.”

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @watercolorskyy @xxxkat3xxx @baedebnam @simonedk @heavenhatesme @valyrianglass

General Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @nockerin @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @goldyfishsstuff @connorsui

[devilstruly]

FRI(END)S -

- 'let's put the end in friends'

pairing (drumroll please) - jason todd x f.reader

includes - mutual pining, best friend dick grayson, batfam being nosy as shit, reader is kind of camera shy/insecure, jealous jason but in a cute way, angry confession (personal fav), mild angst but with a happy ending obvi, swearing, briefly mentioned smut (like one sentence at the end) + anything i might've missed

a/n - hi hello...idk what to say honestly. this was a very random idea i got at like 3am and i can just hope that you guys will like it. also my characteristics of the fam are solely based on the webtoon. yes the title is inspired by taehyung's single what about it

@dreamingaboutsakuratrees this one's for you (and everyone else who voted on that poll) <3

'Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Gosh, the camera absolutely loves you two!'

'Thanks, Delilah ~'

Dick sends the photographer a wink, paired with that signature grin of his, and she nearly falls on her ass. You roll your eyes at the scene affectionately, focused on fixing your hair and checking your makeup for the nth time in the past hour.

'Will you quit it?'

Beside you, your best friend whines and you swat him away with your hand, eyes never leaving the mirror.

'I'm sorry! I just wanna make sure it looks good!'

'You look beautiful. You're doing great, you just need to relax. Focus on me, yeah?'

It's honestly impossible to say no to those eyes, you've learned that a long while ago. The fact that he knows the effect he has doesn't help either.

The photoshoot goes by in a blur. You've changed at least five outfits, done the couple shoots, done the single ones, had a lunch break, etc etc. Throughout the day you learn that the crew that works for Gotham Gazette is actually quite nice, which helped ease your nerves immensely.

Now six hours later, you're sitting in your comfortable clothes, in the passenger seat of Dick's car, on the familiar road towards the Wayne Mansion.

As soon as you step through the door you're greeted with a flash of purple.

'How was it?! Tell me everything! When will the cover be out?! What did you wear?! Who did you see?!'

Stephanie looks as if she's about to burst and simultaneously split her face in half with her grin.

'It went...well, it went.'

Beside you Dick rolls his eyes so hard you could almost hear the gesture.

'Don't listen to her, it was great. She was great.'

'Stoppppp!'

You immediately hide your face in your hands, much to the man's amusement. One of Dick's arms wraps around your shoulders and the three of you head for the library.

'Well, well, well, if it isn't Gotham's power couple ~'

'Gross. Everybody knows they are mere friends.'

'We know. But the rest of Gotham is skeptical.'

'You are hallucinating, Drake. This is why you should stop drinking multitudinous of coffee.'

'Listen here you little shit-'

'O-kay!'

Dick, as always, steps in between the two brothers, effectively averting what could result in another prank war between the two. And it's not even prank season yet.

'Damian, you and I need to discuss that plan for tonight, right?'

'What are you talking ab-'

'The sooner we start the better!'

With that the two dissappear from the room, a very confused Damian letting himself be led by a beaming Dick.

Allowing yourself to feel the tiredness from everything you've done today, you plop on the now empty seat on the couch and sigh deeply.

'Cookie?'

'Thanks, Cass.'

You smile gratefully at the girl, sinking into the cushions more and more while chewing on the chocolate chip cookie.

'Sooo...'

Duke begins, the suspicious tone causing you to raise a brow before he continues.

'...When do we get to see the pictures?'

With this, every pair of eyes in the room turns to you, and you have to avoid the urge to groan.

'The actual magazine comes out in a week. But they'll email us the pictures the day after tomorrow I think.'

'I can't wait to see them! I bet you and Dick had so much chemistry in the photos!'

'Honestly, next to him I don't think anyone will notice me.'

'Of course they will! Especially if you did a couple shoot and got all close and-'

A loud slam interrupts Steph and her rambling and all of you turn to look at a very annoyed Jason. Which, to be fair, is just normal Jason.

He's silent when he stands up and walks across the room, hands stuffed in his pockets. If you had to guess, you'd say he was avoiding eye-contact too.

'Awkward...'

'Not helping Duke.'

- a few days later -

Everyone is sitting in the living room, crowded around Tim's computer, with you and Dick in the middle.

'Jason!'

Dick chirps as soon as he sees his brother enter the room.

'Come look at the photos!'

'No thanks.'

That was the second time that week that Jason refused to look you in the eyes and downright ignored your existence. But you knew better than to press Jason Todd.

Besides, maybe it wasn't even personal.

-

This was definitely personal.

You haven't talked to Jason in days, and it was driving you insane. The worst part is that you have no idea what the fuck you did.

So naturally, as one does, you'll ask him about it. Deciding that it's best to do it after patrol, particularly after the two of you took down some thugs together and were left alone, you refuse to go back home until you two work this out.

'See you tomorrow.'

'Jason.'

Red Hood stops dead in his tracks, and despite his back being turned to you, you can see the tension in his shoulders.

'This needs to stop.'

'I have no idea what-'

'Cut the bullshit, Jay. Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?'

He inhales deeply, mustering up the courage to turn around and face you. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest, accompanied with a very annoyed glare.

'I'm waiting.'

'It's nothing that concerns you.'

His answer makes you at least five times more furious and you scoff.

'Oh yeah? Well I beg to differ. I think I deserve to know why my friend has spent an entire week actively avoiding me.'

Due to his helmet you can't see it, but Jason rolls his eyes in annoyance.

'Why do you care, anyway? I'd say Richard has been keeping you busy.'

This makes you splutter, completely catching you of guard. His words are on repeat in your mind as you try to piece two and two together.

'What the fuck does Dick have to do with any of this?!'

'You tell me!'

Both of your voices echo off the empty walls in the alleyway before a thick silence takes over. Jason takes off his helmet and places it on a nearby fire escape so he can run a hand through his hair.

You watch him, still mildly annoyed, but the sight of his face welcoming nonetheless. And then he looks up and you feel an arrow shoot right through your heart.

His green eyes are soft, dare you say pleading, when they meet your own.

'I-' He takes a deep breath. 'It's the damn photoshoot.'

Before you can ask him to elaborate he's already going off, arms flying every which way with gestures he uses to emphasize his points.

'All I've been hearing for days has been about you and Dick looking all couple-y and what not. I mean you looked gorgeous, honestly why would anyone pay attention to him when you're right there, but god was it getting annoying.'

You have to blink a few times before your brain catches up with his words. Much to his dismay, you don't soften, if anything you look even more pissed now.

'I still don't understand why you've been avoiding me.'

'Because I fucking like you!'

The volume of his words startles you and you swear he was heard a couple blocks away.

'You what now-'

Jason takes a step closer to you.

'I-'

Another step.

'-like-'

Another step.

'-you.'

He's gotten so close to the point of cornering you against a wall, the intensity behind his eyes rendering you unable to look away. You allow yourself a few silent moments to simply appreciate his beauty this close before putting him out of his misery. By your standards at least.

'So this whole time you've just been jealous?'

It takes all of your willpower not to laugh when he deadpans.

'I never took you for a jealous guy to be hones-'

'Shut the fuck up already and kiss me.'

'Yessir ~'

He groans at the term and you make a mental note to use it again later when you're at his apartment.

Who needs to sleep anyway?

[control-z-my-decisions]

I made this blog to talk about cartoons, but I've been asked to bring something else to your attention, that being this family and their story:

Hello,

I am Mohammad Taysir, 34 years old, a Palestinian living in Gaza. I am married to Basma, and we have two children: Joud, who is 3 years old, and Yazan, who is 2 and a half. I am writing to you from the heart of destruction and suffering in Gaza. Our lives used to be normal, filled with hope and hard work, until war came and destroyed everything

Before the war, I worked as a mobile programmer, and my wife was a schoolteacher. We had many aspirations and lived a simple yet happy life, dreaming of a bright future for our children.

The war came and changed everything. Our home was destroyed, we lost our jobs, and we became homeless.

We tried to flee to safer areas in search of security. But safety in Gaza has become nearly impossible. Death and destruction are everywhere, and our children live in an endless nightmare. Opportunities for education and entertainment have vanished, and basic necessities are scarce. We are suffering from poverty and despair.

We are now searching for an opportunity to live in a safe place outside Gaza. However, this is very costly, and we are in desperate need of your support. We want to provide a dignified life and a better future for our children. We believe that humanity and compassion still exist, and that there are those who will respond to our desperate plea.

Every donation, no matter how small — $5 or $10, or 50$ will have a significant impact on our lives. Your contributions will help us cover the costs of travel and living in a safe country. We want to start a new life away from fear and destruction, giving our children a chance to dream and hope again.

Thank you to everyone who wants to help and support my family during these difficult times. We believe that goodness still exists, and that there are those who share our hope for a better life.

[m13trieswriting]

Love of my life - Alexia Putellas

Hey everyone, I really enoyed writing this one, if anyone has any suggestion feel free to comment them! It doesn't have any warning just a bit of suggestion towards sex but nothing explicit, just a bit of flirting. Hope you like it!

As the sun set Y/n couldn't help but to be blown away by the magnificient view her eyes were staring at. The variety of colors mixed with the beautiful beach, the palm trees, the way the ocean was so calm, in tune with her soul in that moment. The landscape made her want to relinquish the routine she had, her job, the city, everything but her beautiful girlfriend who would join her any in a moment in the balcony.

She was thrilled, nervous, and shaking. She couldn't believe she was going to finally do it. Mapi joked she had taken her time when she confessed that saturday night that she was going to FINALLY, after all those years of being sure, propose to her girl, the women of her dreams. And fuck it if Mapi wasn't right, she had taken too long.

It wasn't that she wasn't certain, she had been certain since she first saw the way Alexia's eyes shined everytime she smiled, wanting to make her laugh every two seconds just to see that look in her eyes.

Between their jobs, wanting to make it special, and reassuring herself that Alexia would say yes, she had only taken 3 years and a half.

Mapi was right, too much.

-Enjoying the view?- the sweet voice of the love of her life took her out of her thoughts. If only she knew...

Y/n turned around, and when she could glimpse of her soon-to-hopefully-be-wife she thought she was going to die right there.

-Wow- was everything she could form. Alexia decided on a two pieced short black skirt with her thighs visible, and strong, and pretty, and sporty who looked extra glowing that night and that would look better trapping her head. Get your shit together, Y/n thought to herself.

Her top was something else, the way her abs showed. The way her tatoos weren't covered. The way her strong arms were flexing with the two glasses of champagne she had in her hands. Fuck, her hands, she shouldn't have looked there, only the sight of them made her want to drop all their plans and lead them to the bed, or whatever surface they found first.

-You look so beautiful, I cannot believe- she said slowly, like a secret, like if she talked to loud she was gonna wake herself up from a dream that was definately too good to be true- you choose me to share your love with.

-I must have done something very good in another lifetime to be able to be here with you.

-Stop, you are going to make me cry- Alexia answered- Don't be stupid, I'm the lucky one, no one has ever made me feel this safe, secure, confident and loved ever. Have you seen yourself my love, you are the living example of a gorgeous person.

Y/n smiled fondly, placing her hands on her girls waist to pull her closer, kissing her deeply, with all the love she felt, with all the love she had in herself. The kiss was full of meaning and connection, of two souls who could forever rest in peace because they'd found their missing piece.

-I hope you take off mi skirt when we get back baby-The blonde murmured while breaking the kiss.

-I cannot wait to take everything out of you tonight darling.

..............................................................................................................................

The dinner Y/n planned was everything Alexia could have dreamed of.

As they were having dinner under the stars and surrounded by a thousand candles that pinted the beach with a similar glow which their eyes had in that moment, the blonde thought that was were she was supposed to be, with the woman she was madly in love with and with whom she trusted her life with.

-Everything you have done, the way you planned the whole trip, the dinner, everything, was very thoughtful of you, thanks for making me happy day by day- Alexia admitted whilst taking her lovers hand-I love you with my whole heart, never forget it.

-Ale, my one and only love, I don't know how to start to say how I feel, but there's a warm in my heart that has been there since i first saw you lips curve into a smile and will forever have a hold in the deepest of my heart. - Y/n's breath started to shake as the weight of what she was finally going to do rested upon her shoulders- there's not a single day which I don't thank my lucky stars for being able to share my life with you. You are the happiest of my memories, and nothing would make me more blessed and delighted than sharing every lifetime I have with you.

-Y/n, my love I- she tried to interrupt you but you wouldn't let her, not when you were so close to opening up.

-Let me finish, please.

-My heart beats with the solemn purpose of falling more and more in love with you every single day. And if you let me, I'm going to try to make you feel as safe, comfortable and blissful as you make me feel.

-Would you- she continued whilst standing up and getting down on one knee in front of her, taking out a box with a shiny diamond ring in it and opening slowly, holding her breath with the anticipation- desire to be my wife? My love? My Ale forever.

Alexia thought she forgot how to breath, her heart was beating faster that had ever beated before.

-Yes, of course yes, I love you so much, so so much. Everything you said. Fuck you are making me cry. I'm so blessed to have you, thank you for choosing me. For making this so special, for treating me the way you treat me.

-You deserve the world- the captain continued- and I'm going to make sure I give it to you.

Y/n smiled fondly and started putting the ring on her fiancee's finger.

-It's so beautiful.

-A beautiful woman had to have the most precious ring I could find.

-i'm so in love with you-Alexia confessed.

Y/n couldn't handle it more and kissed her Ale passionately, not holding back one bit, putting every feeling in the kiss. The captain couldn't help but place her hands on her fiancee's lower back, too close to her arse.

-Let's go to our room, fiancee- the blonde ordered

-As my fiancee wishes. God I alredy love the nickname so much. I can't wait for you to moan it.- Y/n confessed mere inches away from her lover's face.

-Imagine on our honeymoon when I'm calling you my wife.

[ariisheresstuff]

Raised Voice

Pairings: Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are visiting your boyfriend while he’s at work, unfortunately for you, you didn’t know Carmy wasn’t having the best day and he ends up taking it out on you and embarrassed you in front of the whole crew.

Genre: Angst to fluff

Warnings: Yelling, cursing, and crying

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open! Have a good day! <3

“Yo cousin! Would ya stop being such a jag off for two fucking seconds?!?” Richie yelled across the kitchen to Carmen who was giving him a nasty scowl.

“Shut the fuck up Richie, I don’t have time for all your bullshit.” Carmy said with a attitude making Richie roll his eyes. Carmy ran his hand through his messy locks as he tried to take some deep breaths to calm himself down, but clearly that wasn’t working for him. Just the whole day has been shitty for him and he couldn’t figure out why. Carmen wiped the sweat from his forehead as he stormed off into his office slamming the door.

“There he goes again with one of his moods.” Sydney said as she was cleaning up her station. Richie walked passed her as he huffed.

“He’s been such a dick this whole day. Probably missing his girl or something.”

Sydney just nodded with a sigh as she continued to clean up while Richie took cover of the front of the restaurant.

You opened the door to the entrance and immediately smiled seeing Richie.

“A table for one?” You teased as Richie’s head quickly rose to the sound of your voice, he quickly smiled as he walked over to you.

“Y/N, thank the fucking lord you’re here.” Richie pulled you into a hug, you hugged him back but looked at him confused at what he meant by that.

“What do you mean?” You questioned as he lead through the kitchen to greet the others.

“Carmy is being a real jag off right now and pushing everyone down. I think he’s been having one of those days.”

You frowned at that, you really hated when Carmy was like this. It hurt you to see him so distraught. You gave Richie an apologetic smile as you apologized to everyone else.

“I’ll talk to him, I know how much of a hot head he can be. Especially when he’s like this.” You teased making Richie snort.

Richie gave you a quick “thank you” as he rubbed your shoulder, you gave him a soft smile before taking in a sigh and walking up to Carmy’s office door. You lifted your fist and hesitated with knocking. You took a deep breath before knocking.

“Who the fuck is it?” Carmy snarled back making you wince slightly.

“It’s me babe, Y/N.” You said with a soft tone trying not to anger him more. You heard him moving before the door opened swiftly. You looked up at your boyfriend who had the most nastiest frown on his face.

“Why are you here?” He said with attitude making you frown a bit.

“I came to see you, until Richie told me you weren’t having the best day. What’s wrong?” You asked as you raised a hand to cup his face. Softly stroking his cheek with your thumb to calm him down. You gasped softly as he immediately slapped your hand away.

“I don’t need to tell you every single fucking thing, okay?!? So stop pestering me all the damn time! It’s annoying as fuck and it’s keeping me down with work. Don’t bother me anymore I’m tired of your bullshit. Leave now, I’m dead ass serious Y/N. I’m tired of you!!!”

You flinched back as your eyes widened. Carmen just yelled at you. Like really yelled at you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You felt your throat tighten as fat tears clouded your vision. You didn’t even hear the others coming in asking what the hell just happened. You just stared at Carmy with the most heartbreaking face. You realized his facial expressions changed quickly from looking at the tears falling down your face. Before he could say anything, he heard Richie’s voice.

“What the fuck just happened here?!?” Richie roared as he stared at Carmen before looking at you. Tina pulled you into her arms as she shushed your cries bringing you outside with Sydney.

“Why the fuck would you yell at her cousin?!? She did nothing to you. I asked her to check on you and you yell at her? Now you’re a real jagoff for that cousin. That wasn’t cool.” Richie shook his head in disappointment. He turned away as he went outside to calm you down with the others.

Carmen just stood there as he processed what he just did. He fucking yelled at you. His girl, the love of his life. He yelled at you and made you cry.

“Fuck.” He said with a crack in his voice before punching the door in anger. “Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you Carmen?!? Get your fucking shit together!” He yelled at himself as he sat back down on his chair. Running his hands through his hair in frustration. He took a few deep breaths like you taught him to calm down. He cleared his throat before standing up. He took one big deep breath and exhaling before walking to the entrance to find you.

“I-I can’t believe he j-just yelled at me.” You sobbed into Tina’s chest as she rubbed your back.

“It’s okay mama, that’s just Jeff being an asshole. I know for sure he is regretting yelling at you like that.”

You hiccuped as you turned your head to look at Richie. He shook his head as he came by you and rubbed your back with Tina.

“I’m sorry Y/N. Carmy knows better. Little asshole. He especially should not be disrespectful like that towards you. His girl. Such a fucking jagoff.”

You wiped away you tears as you gave Richie a frown. “A-all I was doing was m-making sure he was o-okay.” You said with a whimper as you felt more tears fall.

Richie and Sydney were about to say something before the door opened and everyone turned their heads to stare at Carmen. Everyone gave him a look making him look down at the ground. He especially refused to look at your broken self.

“I-I I need to talk to Y/N. Alone.” He said as he looked at Richie who gave him a frown.

Richie nodded his head to the door, signaling everyone to go inside and to give Carmen and you some private time. Tina kissed your temple making you smile a bit, Sydney squeezed your hand and gave a soft smile, and Richie patted your shoulder as he nodded at you. Everyone left leaving you and Carmen alone.

You looked down at your feet refusing to look into his eyes, you didn’t even realize Carmen walked in front of you, now closer to you. He softly cupped your face making your head lift up. You had no choice but to look into his blue eyes that had sorrow in them. You felt more tears burning in your eyes. Your lip trembling. He quickly wiped the tears falling down your cheeks.

“Baby… I’m so, so, so sorry for yelling at you like that. That was such a fucking dick move of me. I should’ve never taken my anger out on you. I was just having a bad day and I know that shouldn’t be an excuse for my behaviors towards you. I just want you to know that I really love you and that I really am sorry for yelling and embarrassing you like that in front of everyone. I will never let that happen again and I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”

You hiccuped as you tried to talk but the sobs just came out that you were holding in. Carmy quickly pulled you into his arms. Comforting you like the good boyfriend he is.

“It’s okay baby. I’m so sorry, I never wanna be the reason for your tears. I love you so fucking much. I hope you know that.” Carmy kissed your head repeatedly as you wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest.

“I’m sorry you h-had a bad day Carmy.” You whispered as your tears startled to settle down. You looked up at him as he gave you a sad smile at the tear stains you had on your cheeks. He cupped your face again as he leaned down to leave a long kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the touch.

“Don’t be sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who should be sorry. You were just looking out for me and that’s what I love about you. You always makes sure I’m okay and that shows how caring you are babe. I swear I didn’t mean any of that shit. Please forgive me. Please.” Carmy whispered as he pulled your face in closer to his. Your noses touching lightly and feeling each other’s soft breaths. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you gave him a smile.

“I forgive you Carmy. But the next time you pull some shit like that again I’m gonna cut your dick off and make you eat it.” You playfully said making Carmen snort.

“I definitely don’t want that to happen. I’ll be 100% sure that I won’t pull that again on you. Never ever.” Carmen said softly with a smile as he leaned closer.

You leaned closer to feeling his lips softly touch yours. You both leaned into the kiss as you enjoyed the moment. You sighed happily while Carmen cupped your face to bring you closer to him. Completely forgetting you were outside in public.

“I love you so much Y/N, I hope you know that.” Carmen said between your lips

You giggled, “And I love you more Carmy. I always will love you.”

At that you two began to kiss more passionately. You two didn’t even notice that the crew was watching you guys the whole time through the window smiling.

“There they go sucking faces again. Jesus fucking christ! They always go at it.” Richie said as he faked gagged.

Tina smacked Richie on his arm giving him a stern look “You’re just mad because you don’t have what they have.”

“Damn!!!! Richie you just got burned!” Marcus said while Sydney and him started to cackle in the back.

Richie gave Tina an offended look making Tina chuckle.

“Man, fuck you guys!” Richie flipped them off as he pouted while they continued to laugh at him.

They didn’t even notice the two of you walking back into the restaurant hand in hand. They turned to look at the two of you.

“So, y’all made up?” Sydney said with her arms crossed.

“Yup all good, told him to never pull that shit again or I’m cutting his dick off.”

Richie choked on his soda that he was drinking before laughing out the soda. Carmen just rolled his eyes as Richie began to tease him. As long as the two of you were okay, he was okay.

Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

[jeongharine]

syntax ERROR: the right formula

⚝ wonwoo x reader

⚝ comedy, smut

⚝ notes: you and wonwoo decide to take the thing between you on level two. but no one has to know about it. you would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with the local nerdy fuckboy. it is an ego thing. (part i)

(thanks to everyone who read and liked part one, i’ve never received such an amount of likes for something that i posted <3 i hope you will like this part as well, it is a bit longer but i had a little fun in writing some teasing ooof enjoy it, have a good early summer period and stay safe x)

“can you actually believe that, y/n? he ghosted me for i don’t know three weeks, and then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic,” nabi sighs, taking a sip from her blue-ish drink.

“you know what? i’m so done with men. all of them. we really ar- are you even listening to me?” 

you are caught off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. truth is, you are only half present, the other half of you is scanning the whole floor, trying to see if there’s a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies. 

“yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologize, leaning your side against the wall. “i was somewhere else for a second. you were saying that he ghosted you?”

“i’m never talking to him again. or any man.” “hm,” you hum, crossing your arms. you actaully don’t know who she is trying to convince at this point, because that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). 

“really, i don’t know why those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. they’re a hazard, including your brother from what i’ve heard. sorry. but yeah, they’re a threat to public health,”

you shrug, because honestly you don’t care that much about their business. and that is important to keep it low.

“could be worse, though, i could be one of the poor girls getting fucked by one of them in their spare time,” 

oh. 

you giggle, a little nervous. “yeah, yeah,” you agree, looking back at the mass of students. “yeah, that’d be totally awful.” 

“i couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with one of them, and somehow proceeded in becoming completely whipped and infatuated, only to be told that they don’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. like… what the fuck is that? who do they think they are? sorry that your brother is involved in this discourse, but he’s kind of a prick,”  

you laugh, noticing the tinge of red that covers her cheeks. “you sound really drunk,” 

“i’m not bullshitting you. they’re pricks and that’s on period,” 

she raises her cup in a silent cheer, and took another sip. “i know you’re not involved in the fuckboy thing that plagues this campus and, honestly, you’re better off that way. but trust me when i say that they aren’t worth the headache,” 

with an inattentive nod, you take another peek at the strangers filling the space near you. “i believe you, don’t worry. i know my thing or two,” 

the worst part? you do. 

and the even worse bit? there are two things wrong with what she has just told you. 

number one: yes, they could be kind of jerks sometimes. but they aren’t completely soulless, at least some of them. they are fun to be around, actually, when picked alone and not in group, or when they are not trying to impress someone into sleeping with them.

number two: they fuck the same person twice, if feeling like it. at least wonwoo. and you know that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so. 

when you first met him, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship. you just needed a math tutor. but long story short, you didn’t expect to fall victim to his charms, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you can hold it. and you surely didn’t expect to like it as much as you do. 

truth is: jeon wonwoo is everything, but he isn’t dumb. he knows that he is attractive and smart as hell - he knows that with his voice so silky and deep just saying the right words is enough to have you in bed with him, and he knows how to use the two things very well. 

apart from also corrupting you in games hours.

also, you are human, alright? and there is something extremely tempting about sleeping with your brother best friend, especially when he keeps coming back to you. it’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while. 

again: it is an ego thing. 

plus no one ever caught you. not nabi or any of your other friends. as far as you are aware, wonwoo’s group doesn’t know a thing either, which makes you appreciate him even more because you don’t know how hoshi could take this.  

so yeah, he isn’t a total douchebag. he has the most basic sense of loyalty. 

x

with a sigh, you push your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. you are praying that- oh there he fucking is. 

the moment that you see wonwoo, sitting on the couch across from you, you forget how to breathe for a moment. 

he looks better than you had anticipated: dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. his dark long hair is parted in the middle, with a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, as his gaze navigates around the room, staring at nothing in particular.

next to him, there is another one of his friends, seokmin, talking about something animatedly but wonwoo is paying no attention. 

his expression is one of irritation, you notice, with his thick eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenching. but when his gaze falls on you, however, wonwoo’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipates. 

you watch as his eyes meet your own, then he trails down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you have predicted. 

you know that stare awfully well: it is the same one that he gives you when he sees you around campus, or in the pc-bang when you’re winning or when you actually understand the concepts that he’s teaching you. the silent provocation that tells you, and only you, that he really wants to have some alone time right now. 

a tricky smirk sprouts at the corner of his lips, and he leans back against the couch. you follow his movements as he reaches towards his pocket and extracts his phone, staring at you as he does so. he unlocks it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he starts to type something.

[00:23] wonu: so glad to see that you came  

[00:23] wonu: will you do me a favour and meet me in the bathroom upstairs? second door to the right ;) 

and what can you do when he’s asking it like this? you take the stairs and you wonder, as you open your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you aren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that is actually very simple. 

a story with a beginning, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two want to fuck each other, you do, then you move right forward. no hidden feelings, no strings attached. that’s it. couldn’t get any better than that. 

but maybe, it isn’t everything about that, and you know it. it is also about overhearing the other girls talking as you make your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot and pretty he is. it is about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. it is about knowing that yeah, wonwoo is crazy hot and smart and funny and you can have that whenever you want.

x

just like the calm before the storm, there is a moment of quietness and stillness between the instant of when you lock the door, and the one when you see him. 

as you turn around, dwelling in his proximity, you think about a million things at the same time: about teasing him for his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he has to count on his covert booty call to get laid at a party. 

before you can say anything, wonwoo’s lips are on yours, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. you whimper in surprise as he pushes you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezes your body against his. your purse falls on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even notice it. 

it is something else, really. tonight, he’s kissing you as if he physically can’t contain himself long enough to do anything else - as if all that he can think of doing is to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, while your fingers pull strands of his hair.

as he invites his tongue inside your mouth, wonwoo groanes and lowers his hands, squeezing your ass like he is about to lose every last ounce of sanity he has left in him. you sigh as he moves his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. 

“someone’s excited,” you comment, slightly breathless. the only response you get is another groan, and the rolling of his hips against your inner thigh where you can feel his dick, already semi-hard, pressing. 

“couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else,” 

“i just needed to have you now. have you seen how hot you are?” his voice comes out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your core. 

“i see you’re starting to get more adventurous with this,” you bite down on your lower lip and he sucks your flesh, groping your ass once again. “parties and nights out used to be so off limits to you.” 

wonwoo chuckles against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. he starts making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you start to think how you could very well pass out seen the level of craving building inside of you. 

“i changed my mind.” he speaks as he leans back. 

you smirk at his attitude. “we’ll end up getting caught,” 

“aw, baby,” he pouts, looking at you with artificial pity. “are you afraid your brother is going to find out?”

okay, he can be kind of a prick sometimes. 

“so i can leave, then?” you raise one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. 

“you can, the door is right behind you. you know i’m not one to insist,” wonwoo tells you, quickly losing interest in this part of the conversation. “but something tells me you won’t.” 

you don’t even try to respond, because there is nothing to be said: both of you know what you are doing there, and the idea of walking out is just too ridiculous to consider. 

with a suspire, you watch as wonwoo moves his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse. 

“what if someone hears us?” you suddenly remember, heartbeat quickening at the thought. 

“what is it?” he asks as his fingers work on your buttons, exposing more of your chest. the slow pace of his is going to kill you one of these days. 

“you’re worried that people are going to find out about this? about us? when you’re always begging to be fucked in the room next to your brother’s one or when there’s someone at my dorm?” 

you open your mouth to respond but his chuckle, so deep and melodious, catches you off guard. 

“how scandalous, right? you are not the pure little thing you make yourself to be,” wonwoo continues, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. he hums with delight. “red lace? you really want to tease me,” 

you swallow dry as he takes the blouse off your shoulders and gently places it beside the sink, above a towel. he can be so thoughtful and gentle. 

“wonu, i-“ “you’re such a little brat sometimes, you know that?” he interrupts, eyes following his own movements as his hands circle your body, moving to unclasp your bra. and of course he gets it right on the first try. 

“you came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it,” you stare him down, a smirk already creeping up in the corner of your lips. 

“how does that make me a brat?” 

he smiles. “don’t try to to play the naive card on me,” another agile movement of his fingers and your bra joins your blouse besides the sink. 

wonwoo sighs deeply at your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. you can drop the act now, y/n,” “i don’t-“ his mouth attacking you is all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he wants really.

overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezes you, playing with you as he moans against your skin. 

“i love it so much,” he hums, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. you were almost forgetting how much wonwoo aches to play with your tits - not that you are complaining. 

“and i love that it’s all for me,” he breathes out before placing kisses again.

you whimper at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. as much as you know he is most likely to just say whatever he thinks would turn you on, wonwoo’s words expand inside your chest, building a heat that seems to suffocate you. even if you know it is bullshit, maybe not all of it, you like to be called his. ego strokes and all of that. 

“wonu…” there is only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and at the moment you can’t care less if they hear you calling out his name. the guy really does wonders to your anxiety. 

but he also likes to tease you. 

he moves away from your breasts and you almost, almost, cry out in frustration. but wonwoo starts to trace kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. and you feel like you’re going crazy with all that back and forth.

“i’m not gonna lie, i understand where you’re coming from,” he says. “i like to keep this as a secret too. it’s so hot.” 

you almost forget how to inhale when he aligns his face with yours, placing a peck on your swollen lips. “yeah?” you ask, sounding as if you are in a daydream. 

“yeah,” he agrees, breathless. 

even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he

even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he’s close to get too worked up.

“it’s so great to know that i have one of the sexiest nerdy girls on campus just for myself…” his hand trails up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “and no one knows.”

you bite your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “what’s so tempting about it?” you ask. 

he smiles. “ah… many things,”

your stare doesn’t vacillate. “i’d like an example,” 

instead of answering you straight away, wonwoo decides to take his sweet time. he leans his head to the side and kisses you feverishly, growing satisfied with the the small whimpers and breaths that echoes in between your mouths. his hands are all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes can not see. you only have your skirt and your panties on, and it is so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you. 

at last, he pulls away, placing his forehead against yours. as he speaks, you feel the tingle of his hands as they move towards the hem of your panties. 

“i like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re sore from the night before,” he speaks slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “and i know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. about how i fucked you so good that you almost cried,” 

you hum, closing your eyes. “what else?”

much to your dismay, his hands leave your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “when you send me those audios late at night,” he’s breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “crying out my name… ” he stops and takes a big breath. “how am i supposed to say no to that? so there i go, out the door, telling your brother that i’m going to the library to study, instead of saying that i’m going to see his crazy hot sister and that i’m going to fuck her…” he hesitates. “and i just get this… adrenaline rush because he and my other friends don’t know it’s you.” 

“and how do you know that i like any of it?” you tease. 

wonwoo snickers at your question. both of you know that it is plastered all over your face, but he can keep up with that little teasing if you want to. 

“two reasons,” he says. “first: you do the same to me, or don’t you?” 

“i don’t recall,” you respond, forging innocence. okay, maybe you do like to play the naive part. 

“oh no? what a terrible memory you have, i see why you do badly in exams when you don’t study with me. now, let me remind you,” he places a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. wonwoo is so close that you can count his eyelashes if you want to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wonder how you even manage to breathe in this position. 

“it was just last week, babe. you called me to your flat after your roommate had left,” one of his hands goes back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like sparks against your skin. 

“you got so horny with just the thought of having me, isn’t that right?” much to your surprise, your voice comes out a lot more steady than you have expected. “don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

wonwoo laughs, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “i don’t,” he agrees, digits pressing against your clothed area. 

you know he feels how wet your panties have become, so there’s no reason to keep that up. regardless, you kind of like it. 

“but i do remember how much you wanted me that night. how many times did i fuck you that night? and you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbours could have been catching something. that was so cute,” 

you sigh, your insides in knots over the tension you are sustaining. you hate him sometimes. hate how good he is. “i wasn’t counting.” 

“i know,” he swiftly pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side. 

“and this right here, this is the second reason. look at this,” his digits move, teasing you and you have to suppress a moan. “you’re always ready. i love that. you’re so good to me.” 

god, you are so close to lose it.

“so quiet all of a sudden,” his nose delicately trails up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in open kisses. in an attempt to ground yourself, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging through his t-shirt. you can still feel wonwoo’s fingers playing. you hate him. or not. you don’t know. 

“i know i leave you speechless, sometimes, but i wan to hear you too,” 

strong and steady, his other hand meets the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his.

“nothing? y/n, you’re especially irresistible tonight,” his eyes are somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. he appears as if he’s two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind at this point. 

“you know why i called you here?” “because you want to fuck me,” you respond without missing a beat. 

“i do, of course,” he places his forehead against yours, and you whimper. 

“and the best part is that no one will even know it,” he continues. against your best judgement, your knees are getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie.

“just you and i. just the two of us will know how much you begged.” 

“wonu,” you call out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. you whisper out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone. 

god, wonwoo loves hearing the effect he has on you. 

x

maybe jeon wonwoo does also have a golden dick. 

above you, he smirks at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair. after he removes his thumb from your mouth, you get back to your feet. it swiftly crosses your mind that your legs might give out eventually but, thankfully, they seem a bit more firm than what you have anticipated. 

“better?” you ask. 

“perfect.” wonwoo kisses you, sighing against your mouth. he pulls away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow.

“you always are.” 

“aw, how nice of you,” you smile at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. “always with the compliments.” 

he hums in agreement, watching your naked body - your fingers holding that red bra he adores so much. “do we have any lesson programmed this week?” 

an incredulous laugh ruptures your lips as you clasp your bra behind your back. 

“we just had sex, and you’re already thinking about studying time?” 

he shruggs. “i like to have a schedule,” 

“i don’t actually remember, but we can game at mine wednesday,” your skirt moves up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. from the corner of your eyes, you can see wonwoo fumbling with his own jeans, which he now curses for being inside out. 

“can you pass me some toilet paper?” you ask him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. there’s no way you are going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando isn’t exactly the most welcoming either. 

wonwoo is sitting on the toilet lid, putting his jeans back, and simply nods in agreement before doing so. “i’d like to know, though,” he insists.

you smile, taking a cheeky glance at him. “oh, so you are needy. since when you’re so needy?” 

he groans. “i’m not needy, shut up.” the sound of his zipper closing echoes inside the cubicle. 

“well, you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.” 

you throw your red panties at him, watching as his face grows interested at the piece of cloth in his hands. wonwoo sighs, tugging his t-shirt back inside his pants. 

“you’re killing me,” he complains. “good.” you smile, turning back at him. “how do i look? presentable?” 

he examins you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “it doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that’s what you’re asking,” 

“great!” you swirl around, “have a nice night, wonu. and don’t get too excited with the panties,” 

wonwoo gets up and walks closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. you are positive he’s going to have fun with it later. “you’re going home already?” he asks. 

“yeah, you did a good job at making me tired,” the clicking of the lock is a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during your alone time.

wonwoo chuckles, leaning closer to you and he places a kiss on your forehead. 

“good night, then. thanks for the panties,” you laugh. “you’re welcome.” 

x

the building is glowing in the most diverse colours from the outside, and the sound of the music is like a distant pulse.

you watch, heart clenching inside of your chest, as wonwoo steps out of the front door with hoshi and seokmin - his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. 

there is a volume in his front pocket, where you are sure he has tugged in your panties.

“i think that we should go home and sleep. but let’s keep this conversation on hold,” wonwoo cuts off the conversation. seokmin, however, isn’t satisfied. 

“you know that i’ll find out eventually,” he says, trying not to trip while walking. 

“i always do. and hoshi knows it well.” 

hoshi laughs, meeting wonwoo’s eyes. on the other side of the street, you and nabi take the opposite direction, having wonwoo to turn his head quickly at you. 

“wonu-yah, i think you should give those lacy panties hanging off your pocket back to my sister tomorrow,”

“what-” “oh fuck!” a tomato red face wonwoo grabs them, while seokmin trips and nearly cries out loud in the middle of the street.

[kingkatsuki]

— when you get him a birthday cake

Masterlist.

It’s been a while and this has sat dusty and half-finished in my drafts for months, so Happy Birthday, Bakugou.🥺

Warnings: none. Pure fluff, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.7k.

Bakugou had never really celebrated his birthday, at least not since he was a child. Far too old for children’s party games and toys (although he’d still scour the internet for vintage All Might action figures as a gift to himself, because those most definitely weren’t toys).

But the thing that irritated him more than anything about his special day was the fact that everyone else seemed far more excited about it than him. Masses of texts from his friends, messages online and an influx of gifts from fans all trying to wish him a very Happy Birthday. News outlets and media suddenly in talks with his PR team to try and get an interview with him on the actual day; when truth be told he’d have agreed to it if they’d offered the day before. The tower of paperwork he was trying to work through had become tiresome and he was hoping for a distraction.

How was it that the world seemed more excited about his Birthday than the Number Two hero was himself?

Heaving a sigh as he stopped the incessant blaring of his phone alarm before wincing through tired, narrowed eyes at the bright light of his phone. The screen completely covered in well wishes that seemed to have started when the clock struck twelve. A few trying to coax him out after work for drinks and to celebrate, those he swiftly ignored. It wasn’t until he scrolled down to a message from Mina practically threatening him to go out that he groaned low and deep in his chest; how was it that his friends were trying to dictate how he spent his birthday every damn year? He’d be happy with a bowl of noodles from his favourite hole in the wall and maybe a slice of cake from the quaint bakery he liked to frequent on Sundays. Now he was going to have to stay up late, and probably carry an inebriated Kirishima home.

By the time he’d made it into the office, Bakugou had put his phone onto do not disturb. Sick of the constant stream of messages that didn’t seem to dissipate. Another thing to add to the list of things that irked him about his special day— and he hadn’t even received the call from his Mother yet. Less of a call to send him well wishes, and more an excuse to remind him that he’s another year older and still painfully single and she’s still without a grandchild. Running a palm down the length of his face as he stepped into the elevator to take it up to his floor.

“Good morning, Dynamight,” You smiled from your desk as he walked past, “And happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” He rasped gruffly in response, it was the first time he’d used his voice all morning.

“I left you a coffee on your desk.”

God, you really were the best part about his day.

You were apprehensive when Bakugou walked by with a heavy set frown across is brow. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grumpy this early in the day, the Pro was definitely not a morning person— but he seemed even more annoyed today. And you were positive the influx of gifts that waited for him by the copier would only serve to irritate him more. Especially when a US limited edition All Might figure he’d ordered from overseas as a gift to himself had still not been delivered. Grimacing when you’d checked the tracking when you woke up this morning and noticed it sat in an airport postal office on the outskirts of Kawasaki; you knew he wouldn’t be happy.

And that’s why you were even more nervous for him to see the gift you’d left sitting on his desk. A gift that definitely couldn’t compare from the small fortune he’d spent on himself.

It was difficult thinking about the perfect gift to get a man that could buy himself anything he wanted, even more difficult when the man happened to be your boss. Any time you looked through shop windows at the various fragrances, gift sets and jewellery everything felt too ostentatious, too intimate. Putting down a garish tie that you wondered why you’d even thought about buying, and settling on a single purchase of an All Might themed birthday card you were certain was for children as you decided to make him something instead.

“What the fuck is this?” You heard Bakugou shout from his office and you felt your heart rattle against your ribcage.

Standing from your desk to open the parted door to see him standing in front of your gift. The All Might card already open and displayed on top of his desk as his attention now sat on the open white box that he’d unwrapped.

“It’s uh— a cake.” You smiled softly.

Bakugou raised a brow at your answer as he directed his gaze back to the cake that sat on top of his desk. Three tiers of soft sponge covered in a vibrant orange icing, with black lines decorating it to replicate the crosses that sat against his chest on his hero costume. You’d never claimed to be a baker, the cake nothing like the one you could’ve probably picked up from Bakugou’s favourite bakery. You knew the exact cakes he enjoyed too, but when googling recipes none seemed to be close to your level or expertise.

And what made it worse is the dessert had not travelled well on your morning commute. Holding tightly onto the box while you contended with the Musutafu rush hour had meant that the tiers had now begun to slide out of place as the cake sat leaning inside its box, now looking rather pathetic.

“A cake?” He repeated, his eyes glancing back down at the vanilla sponge that had a messy attempt of ‘Happy Birthday Dynamight’ scrawled across the top. The piping bag had not been kind to you when you attempted the design, wishing the text looked more like your handwriting and less like you’d baked with a four year old. Which was probably what your boss was thinking right now as he stared down at the sweet treat.

“I’m sorry,” You felt your cheeks burn, “I thought it would be a nice idea—”

“Did you make it yourself?” Bakugou asked, although it was clear that you had. Any shop that would dare to even attempt to sell a monstrosity like this should be shut down.

“Well, yeah,” You hovered in place, “I tried to follow the recipe, and I thought it was going well, but I think I put too much buttercream on, and I’m not very good at piping—”

You found yourself rambling, and it just made you feel worse. Reaching over to flip the cardboard lid back over it to take it away and shield yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Are you not going to have some with me?” Bakugou stopped you from closing the lid completely, his crimson eyes full of sincerity.

“Cake for breakfast? It’s not even nine am—”

“So?” He scoffed, “It’s my birthday. If I can’t have cake for breakfast today then what’s the fuckin’ point? Unless you’re trying to kill me—”

“No!” You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, “Does it really look that bad?”

You looked down at the sad, pathetic excuse of a cake. Hard to see all the time, energy and love that went into it when it drooped so pitifully.

“It looks like shit.” He smirked.

“I should’ve just bought one,” You sighed, remembering how pretty all the cakes had been on the online websites you were going to order from before you had the brilliant idea to bake one yourself. Hell, even the cute little cupcakes in the coffee shop you went to each morning looked better than this.

“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head, “It’s perfect.”

It was noon by the time Bakugou had decided to pick the phone up to answer one of his mothers numerous calls to him, eyeing the voicemails that she’d left which no doubt chastised him for not picking the phone up. He’d delete those later.

“Katsuki—” Her voice already had him closing his eyes and rubbing his temple as he settled back in his desk chair. Still better than paperwork— “How hard is it for a mother to wish her son a happy birthday. Don’t you forget that I’m the one who birthed you—”

“Yeah, yeah, Ma. I’m sorry,” He sighed, “Work’s been kickin’ my ass.”

“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday, anyway!” She continued, “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

“I’ve got too much to do.” He didn’t. The paperwork could wait, and he didn’t have a patrol scheduled this week. His sidekicks eager to find their own positions in the hero rankings so they’d picked up all the available slots, leaving Bakugou in his office.

“All you ever do is work anymore, Katsuki.” She continued, “When are you coming to visit? Your father says he hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”

“I’ll come by soon.” Maybe. He thought.

“You should be spending less time working and more time settling down. You’re not a young man anymore, Katsuki.” Here it comes, “And I want grandchildren while I can still chase after them!”

He scoffed. Even when he was a child Mitsuki still hadn’t been able to catch up with him, but the thought of her running around after his kids had an unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest.

“It must be lonely, son,” She continued, and for once he stopped to think about it.

“There is someone, Ma—” Bakugou smiled as his eyes looked towards the half eaten cake that sat on the edge of his desk.

If he could ever tell you.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Astarion, Allusion to Astarion's Past (Sexual Assult/Dissociation)

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: Holy shit! It's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and reblogged and just...everything. I cannot tell you how much it means to be to know this story has resonated with so many people. I don't have any plans to continue this as a larger story (I still haven't played the game); however, if anyone would like to send requests for small one-shots or headcanons involving Astarion and this Asexual!Tav, feel free to send me an ask.

Also, sorry if I didn't tag you. There were a lot of request, so I stuck to those who asked on the previous chapter.

And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!!

Word Count: 5.2K

You didn’t sleep that night, but what else did you expect?

For hours you simply lay in the dark, staring at the window. The patter of rain was the only source of sound besides your own breathing. Even that small comfort didn’t last as the storm passed leaving behind cloud covered silence.

No tears came to you.  What had you to grieve over? Everything you felt had been a product of your imagination. You knew that.

Still, it ached.  There was a throbbing in your throat you couldn’t swallow down and a constant pressure behind your eyes.  You almost wished you would cry, just to get it out of your system. If you could have a nice little breakdown, there was a chance you could get over this. It would be the slap in the face you needed to accept reality. Maybe then you’d stop doing this to yourself.

All the same, it stayed there, pressing heavy on your chest until the sun teased the edges of the clouds beaconing morning.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. You couldn’t lie and wallow the rest of the day. You had things to do, places to be, worms to destroy. The sooner you had something else to occupy your thoughts the better.

With an effort you pulled yourself out of bed and slowly made your way to the dining room.

You were a bit surprised to see everybody already up. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale were already seated with plates of half eaten food in front of them.  Two seats were still empty, settings ready and untouched. A quick look around confirmed the rest, Astarion had yet to make an appearance.

“Morning everyone,” you said, trying your best to be cheerful as you sat yourself between Gale and Wyll.  

You could feel all their eyes on you, no doubt noticing the dark circles under yours.

“Morning,” Gale greeted. “I trust you slept well.”

He let out a small yelp of pain.

You looked up to catch him glaring at Shadowheart as she shot him a disapproving look.

You frowned. Did she just kick him?

“I mean, ah, did you lie comfortably?” he amended.

“Seriously?” Karlach questioned.

You swore you could feel the heat of Gale’s blush, as he grumbled into his toast. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” you asked.

“We just hoped you spent the rest of the night…pleasantly,” Wyll tried, and ultimately failed.

Your stomach flipped, as harsh, dreadful realization washed over you.  Yes, of course they would.

“You don’t look well,” Lae’zel noted. “After all his boasting, I had thought Astarion would leave his partners more satisfied.”

You didn’t say anything, deciding to take a bite of egg as an excuse. Now would be a great time for the ground to open and swallow you into the hells. Gods knew it would be an improvement.

“She’s right,” Shadowheart said, sounding a little annoyed to admit it. “You do look tired and not the good kind. Did something happen?”

“Did he hurt you,” Wyll said, his brow furrowing in sudden concern.

“What?! No!” you said quickly. “Nothing happened.”

“How’d you mean nothing happened?” Karlach put in. “We all saw what we saw. How could anyone turn down all of that?”

Fresh embarrassment washed over you, making you wish you could erase the last twenty-four hours and crawl into the nearest, deepest hole. You had spent the whole night worried about what Astarion would make of your vision, you had all but forgotten you had shared that part of yourself with all of your companions. Of course they would have their own interpretations.

“It wasn’t like that.”

A quick look around the table gave away the doubtful thoughts of all.  

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm. They weren’t going to believe you if you were emotional about this.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. As I said, nothing happened. We talked, and it became clear that we just want different things. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Now are we done or are you all going to keep chattering on like a bunch of fishwives?”

The silence at the table was palpable as everyone exchanged looks.

Alright, maybe being calm wasn't a realistic expectation, but you hadn’t lied. Sure, there were some details you neglected to share, but that really was the long and the short of it. He hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had you. It just didn’t work out.

The plain truth of it settled in your heart carving out a hollow space for it to lay in.

Gale was the first to act, clearing his throat. “Fair enough, the matter is closed. Please, accept our apology. With such an intimate group as ours, it’s sometimes easy to forget that one’s personal matters can be well and truly personal.”

He looked at the rest of the group, each nodding in agreement to various degrees of reluctancy.

“Just for the record though, if you need someone to knock some sense into that pretty boy’s head, you just need to ask,” Karlach offered. 

Despite yourself, you had to smile. “I’ll think about it.”

You then turned to Gale, who met you with kind eyes and a comforting smile. You let yourself be warmed by it, even if you still felt a little guilty for snapping. He really did understand. It was easy for heartbreak to recognize heartbreak.

“Thank you,” you murmured. 

To your surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to reach for words, but rather your hand as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. 

“Anytime.” 

“Good morning everyone. Gossiping without me?”

You whipped your head around to find Astarion standing near the head of the table, a sardonic smile on his lips and a hard glare in his eyes.  No doubt he had heard everything. 

Everybody shifted in their seats, glancing between you and Astarion. You averted your gaze, focusing hard on the table in front of you. 

Gale’s hand still rested over yours. Whatever comfort it had given you, faded as something akin to panic flooded your veins. In the next second, you rose from your chair, scraping it hard against the floor in your hurry. 

“I’ve still got some packing to do,” you said. “Be back down in a few.” 

Coward’s way out? Yes, but after the night you had, you figured you were entitled to it. 

Keeping your head down, you slipped past Astarion, feeling him watch you as you made your way back up the stairs. 

If you had lingered a moment, you might have caught the flash of hurt in his eyes. You might have noticed how his clothes were more rumpled than usual. You might even have seen his hand twitch with the instinct to reach for yours. But you didn’t see, and anything that might have happened disappeared in a brush of air. 

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

The next several days carried on in much the same way.  Not as torturous as that first morning, but still a drudge of avoidance and awkward silences. 

In your defense, Astarion seemed just as keen to keep his distance. Where he used to be your preverbal shadow, filling the hours of travel with idle teasing and conversation, now he kept to the back, his mouth decidedly shut. 

The others caught on and seemed determined to make up the difference. Karlach, Shadowheart and Wyll especially made a point to walk alongside you, telling stories and jokes in an attempt to make you smile. 

You did your best. They meant well, but in some ways they only served to emphasize the absence of another. 

Gale, on the other hand, had the foresight to try a different approach. He made it clear he didn’t expect you to talk, but always made sure you had the best spot by the fire and a little extra of whatever he made for the camp. You had to wonder if Tara had provided a similar comfort to him after Mystra. It was obvious he had the practice. 

Even Lae’zel offered to help you train it off, something about how your, “objectively weak body had left the rest of you vulnerable to attack”. A part of you felt the insult, but the gesture was appreciated. 

Honestly, all of this care was starting to make you feel guilty. None of them were giving Astarion the same courtesy. He wasn’t being shunted exactly, but the message was loud and clear; they were on your side. 

This was met by him taking a step back from the late night conversations. His interactions with the others were kept short and lacked his usual humorous flare. He took his shifts on watch alone and he spent even more time either roaming the forest or in his tent. 

The only person he consistently spoke to was Gale, which should have raised some alarm bells on their own, but you never caught what they were discussing. All you knew was Astarion never appeared especially pleased while Gale gave a look of someone begging the gods for patience. 

All of this was your fault. You just wanted things to go back to normal. Even if you couldn’t be with Astarion the way you imagined, you still valued his friendship.  If this kept up, there was a chance he might decide to leave all together. An olive branch was needed, something to signal you didn’t hold a grudge or expect anything more. 

The answer came to you one early evening as you took note of his haggard looks and less than graceful steps out of camp.  He hadn’t fed on you in a week and there was only so much deer and boar could do. 

You considered simply offering up your neck, but that felt too forward. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready to have him that close. The only other solution you could think of was to bleed yourself somehow. 

This proved more difficult than you first imagined. Astarion seemed to have an instinct for where to bite, balancing enough blood for himself without causing any permanent damage. You couldn’t boast the same. It took more than one cut to fill an empty goblet with what you hoped to be the right amount of blood. You’d ask Shadowheart to heal you properly later. Hopefully she’d accept a poorly executed knife trick as an excuse. 

You wrapped your wrist as best you could and, watching to make sure the others weren’t looking, slipped into Astarion’s tent. 

You were immediately hit with the scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy. A sense of calm washed over you at the familiar combination, settling comfortably in your lungs as you took in the space.

 A single candle remained lit, allowing just enough light for you to appreciate the rich purple and red fabrics lining the walls as well as the sheer number of pillows littering the floor. How he managed to pack so many was a mystery you doubt you would ever solve. The whole set up was down right ornate, but considering this was Astarion you were talking about, you shouldn’t have been surprised. 

It was only then you realized you’d never been inside before. He’d invited you more than once, but you’d always turned him down preferring to keep your feeding session in the open air. You had known, even then, any closer would give the wrong impression; all for naught it seemed.

You pushed the thought aside, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be some place you could put the goblet where he wouldn’t knock it over. Why did he have to keep a side table outside the tent?

A shuffle came from just outside. Focusing your ears, you caught the tread of boots on grass transition to the nearly silent carpet just outside the tent flap. You turned using those handful of extra seconds to school your features into something passively innocent as Astarion ducked inside.

His whole body froze, his arm holding the fabric above his head as his eyes went wide. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. 

You took advantage of his momentary shock to examine his appearance more closely. He looked…well, tired and more than a little confused. No blood marked his shirt or his lips. His pants appeared to have taken a tear or two from a bramble bush. Even his hair looked just a bit disheveled in a way so unlike himself.  

“No luck hunting?” you said, unable to keep the concern out of your voice. 

He stared, as if your words were coming from somewhere far away and required extra time to reach his ears.

“I’ve had better,” he finally said.��

You nodded in understanding, shifting awkwardly as your eyes went to the goblet in your hands. 

“Here,” you offered. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”

He gave a tight smile. “I’d say no offense taken, but this is me we’re talking about.” All the same, he took the cup, sniffing it cautiously. He blinked hard, his brows furrowing as he stuck his nose further into the cup and took a deep whiff. 

“Is this yours?” he asked. 

You shrugged, holding up your bandaged wrist. “Whose else would it be?”

His mouth parted slightly as if to say something before closing it again. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his tone oddly serious. 

“I know,” you assured. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead released a breath of a laugh, allowing whatever tension he had formed in those last few seconds to fall from his shoulders. 

“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it seems I can’t help it with you.” 

Before you could ask him what exactly he meant, he raised the goblet to his lips and drank. 

The effect was instantaneous. Your blood met his tongue and any control he had slipped away. His pupils dilated to those of a predator as he guzzled the whole thing down in two deep swallows. He let out a gasp of air before returning to the cup, licking the sides so not to waste a drop. A low hum of bliss came from deep in his chest as he savored the rest, allowing his fingers to scrap the bottom before bringing it back to his mouth. 

The sight should have left you horrified, but in truth, it was encouraging. Things would be different, but you could at least provide him this. 

“Do you need more?” you asked. 

This time his laugh was loud and genuine as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before licking the remains; yet another thing you found inexplicably endearing. He really was just a big cat sometimes. 

“Dangerous thing to offer me in this state, darling,” he said. “Luckily for you, I found a nice burrow of rabbits yesterday.” 

Once satisfied there was truly nothing left, he set the goblet down on the ground before turning his attention to your wrist. 

“Let me see,” he said, reaching out a hand. 

“It’s fine,” you promised. “I’ll get Shadowheart to look at it later.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that, give it here.”

Knowing there was no fighting him, you relented, allowing him to unwrap the bandages.  

He visibly winced as he examined the litter of harsh scratches along your skin. “What did you use? A rusty spoon?” 

“I had trouble finding a good vein,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. You hadn’t thought it looked that bad. 

“Oh is that all? And here I thought you’d lost an argument with a displacer beast.” 

You pressed your lips into an annoyed line, but Astarion was already digging around his pack, coming back with a salve and potion of healing.  

“Drink this.”

You shook your head, ignoring the pleasant little flutter in your chest at the gesture. “I told you, I’ll just ask Shadowheart.”

“Oh this isn’t just for you,” he said, dryly. “Do you think I want her believing you’d willingly butcher yourself just to give me a proper meal? Neither of us would hear the end of it.” 

A small flush of embarrassment worked up your neck. He was right, of course. The party really hadn’t been subtle in their disapproval. It was the reason you had tried for discretion. 

Without further protest you accepted the potion. 

This seemed to appease him as he quickly got to work on applying the salve. 

He had bought it not long after you had come to your little feeding arrangement. It helped to sooth small cuts and bruises while minimizing the threat of scars. He had initially offered to provide…other services to relieve the pain, but you had declined. This was the compromise. You’d offered to do it yourself, but he insisted, claiming it was the least he could do. In truth, it was all very…transactional. 

This felt different. The hesitation he so often held, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, was gone. His touch was gentle, his expression focused and his body oddly relaxed. It didn’t feel like an obligation, but an act of kindness, one he was more than willing to give. 

Any nerves that remained slipped away.  You could find a way to live with this. Certainly it was more than others had given you in the past. 

Once he was done, he pulled fresh bandages from his bag and began redressing your wounds with decidedly more precision than you had. 

“I am glad you’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was hoping we could talk.”

A sharp sting of anxiety pressed itself into your skin. 

“Oh?” 

He nodded, tying off the bandage. “I think it’s important.”

You swallowed. The instinct to run pulled at your feet, but you managed to keep it in check. You owed him that much. 

“Well, I’m here so…let’s talk.”

He breathed out an audible sigh of relief, raising his hands up as he took a small step back.

“Just stand there a moment. Don’t move.”

He spun around, rummaging through various bags before letting out a cry of triumph. He stepped back holding what looked to be a violin string glowing with magical golden light. 

Your head tilted to the side as your eyes narrowed. “Is that…?”

“Part of the violin, yes,” he admitted. “Bit of a story. Short version, Gale was able to extract one of the strings. It shouldn’t cause any permanent damage to the instrument, as far as I know.” 

You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “And Gale just let you pluck this from his tent did he?”

Astarion shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I, ah, may have had some trouble understanding how it worked and…inquired as to his assistance.”

“You asked Gale for help?” you asked, astonished.

“Don’t make me relive the experience,” he lamented. “He told me the strings themselves have different magical properties in order to create the effect you demonstrated the other night. Apparently this one alone compels people to tell the truth.” 

He then took the string and carefully wrapped it around his wrist before handing the other half to you. 

Your eyes widened, glancing between him and the offered cord. “What are you doing?”

“Leveling the playing field,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do that.”

His lips curved into a self deprecating smile. “I think I do though. I haven’t been honest with you and…while that’s not exactly unique to you, the regret I have is. So you see, it really is a selfish action. If I’m to be free of this, I need to know for certain you understand that what I say next is the truth…all of it.” 

Your mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The expression on his face was one you had never seen before. While he did his best to hide under his usual indifferent airs, his eyes gave him away. You’d never seen them so open and unsure. 

Slowly, you took the other end, feeling a familiar tingle spread through your fingers. 

“Alright,” you said, cautiously. “What’s your favorite color?”

Flashes of red shot across your vision, moonlit skies and a pair of eyes you only just caught to be your own before the image settled on something else entirely.

“Pink,” Astarion blurted.

Your eyebrows shot up as the start of a delighted smile spread across your face.

 “And orange,” he amended quickly, “and dark blue and…honestly just the color of the sky at sunrise.” He pouted as if annoyed at the words that escaped his lips, but he shook it off. “Alright, you had your little test run. Give me something harder.” 

You considered a moment. It was very tempting to continue on with some more embarrassing questions, but that wasn’t the purpose of all of this. Best to start at the beginning. 

“What did you think of me when we first met?” you asked.

He grimaced, guilt evident not just through his averted gaze but the tug of the string between you. “You were a target,” he admitted. “At best a convenient meat shield. You were just so…open, ready to trust. Manipulating you would be easy.”

You took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain between your ribs. You should have expected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle. 

“And that’s what you were trying to do the other night, manipulate me?”

“Yes.”

Another stab of guilt, a flash of your own back walking out of a candle lit room as a hand that was not your own reached hopelessly outward. 

Your actual jaw clenched. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Then what?!” you snapped. “Hells bells Astarion, do you even like me?”

“You drive me to acts of insanity,” he said indignantly, raising up the glowing cord around his wrist as proof. “Do you think I’d willing subject myself to days of Gale’s passive aggressive commentary on my personal life for just anyone? Of course I like you. Gods below!”

You stared, unable to deny the waves of exasperation mixed with the sound of your own laughter as heard through another’s ears. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in the chest of the body opposite you making your mind spin, as you tried to re-establish the divide. 

“Why did you ask me to come to you?” you asked. “What were you hoping to gain?”

Astarion took a deep breath. It was only then you noticed how tightly he was holding the chord linking you.

“I was hoping to get back on track,” he said, slowly. “I had a plan when we met. A nice simple plan. Seduce you, bed you, manipulate your emotions so you’d never turn on me. It was easy…instinctive.” 

He met your eyes and for the first time, you felt him fight against the images threatening to breach the gap between you. You caught the barest flashes, memories of half forgotten faces passing by one after another. Shame and vile brushed the edges of your mind, and quickly faded as Astarion regained control. 

“But, you seemed immune to my attempts,” he continued. “I could tell you enjoyed my attentions, but you never asked for more. My simple plan that had worked on countless targets, couldn’t get off the ground. And yet, you still gave me blood, protection…trust. I couldn’t understand it. I found myself wanting to know more, to know you. To anticipate what you would ultimately ask in exchange. And then that night, you showed me exactly what it was you desired.”

Something slipped through. You saw yourself in the center of the tavern with darkness surrounding you. A rise of fear entered your heart as you heard your name called from familiar lips. And then, the world shifted, light came back into the world and it was…beautiful. 

“I thought I finally understood you,” he said. “A poor repressed urchin who had been hurt one too many times. All that was required was a more gentle touch. I could provide that. It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

He paused, his expression softening. “And then you had to do the most inconsiderate thing and surprise me all over again: you asked for my heart, in exchange for yours. I should have been elated. It meant my plan had worked, not the way I intended, but you had fallen for it…for me. The trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I would fall for you.”

You stared, unable to say anything as a well of emotion threatened to burst from you. It was as if someone pulled a bow across your chest, creating a resonating sound that moved in harmony with your very soul. 

It was true, all of it. 

By some miracle, you wrestled back control over your lungs and tongue. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “Even if I had, would you have believed me?”

You averted your gaze. It was answer enough. 

“It’s alright,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Smart really. I wouldn’t have believed me either.” 

You nodded in appreciation, your mind still reeling from everything he had just confessed. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked. 

You frowned, unable to shake a question that had been stirring for some time. 

“Do you even want to have sex with me?”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his mouth falling open. “I’m standing here baring my soul to you and that’s what you ask?”

“You asked me what I was thinking,” you defended. “Besides, it’s a relevant question.” 

He looked like he wanted to argue, but let it go just as quickly with a huff. 

“Well?” you prompted. 

He made a series of non-commital noises, his mouth half forming words before being wrenched in another direction. The chord between you glowed brighter, twisting just a little deeper into his skin.

“I…don’t really know,” he said, slightly stilted, as if surprised by his own answer. “To be clear, I do find you physically enticing. In that aspect at least, I’d hardly qualify bedding you a chore, but... I spent two centuries using lust and desire to lure people back to him. In that time I developed the habit of taking myself out of my body, looking at it as if it were happening to somebody else.  Even in those rare times it could be pleasurable, I still walked away feeling nothing but disgust and loathing. I don’t want those feelings associated with you. At the same time, I can’t help thinking that if we were together, it would be different. But, don’t take that to mean I expect it. Like I said, I don’t even know if I want it. Honestly, before you said it, I didn’t know saying no was an option.”

You took all of that in, your heart clenching as the full weight of what Cazador did to him settled on your mind.  Red filed your vision, the sympathetic ache replaced with a rush of fury.  He was a dead man. One way or another, you would see Cazador bloodied by the end of all of this. But as quickly as it had come you let the emotion pass. This wasn’t about him.  You wouldn’t let him intrude any more on this moment. 

“What do you want from me then?” you asked, softly. 

To your relief, something familiar and teasing flashed across his face. 

“I thought I’d made that obvious.”

With his free hand, he cupped your cheek allowing his thumb to lightly caress your skin. His scarlet eyes burned not with lust, but something warmer and just as desperate. 

“You showed me the chorus of your heart. How could anyone look upon that and not desire it? The trouble is, the price you asked. I…I don’t know how to pay it. I don’t know how to be with someone that way, but I’m willing to learn. I want it all. I want you to have it all.” 

The connection between you burned hot in your hand, but you couldn’t let it go. It felt so warm, so real. It filled every empty part of you to the point of bursting and still you wanted more. You were insatiable. 

Astarion looked just as lost as you, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions for you to name. His body began to tremble. It was becoming too much. 

In an instant you pulled his hand away, unwrapping the chord from around his wrist and tossing it aside.

He took a sudden deep breath as if coming up for air after being submerged in deep water. 

“Shit,” he cursed, gulping for air. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm. 

Your eyes widened as you caught the angry marks left behind on his wrist. 

“Are you alright?”

He blinked hard as if clearing spots from his vision. “I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting that is all.” He turned his focus to you with a bewildered expression. “Does it always feel like that?”

“That’s admittedly a first for me,” you confessed. You reached out your hand, glancing at his injury. “Let me see.”

He followed your gaze frowning, as if surprised to note the welts forming on his wrist. Still he stepped closer allowing you to examine them without protest. 

“Does it hurt?” you asked. 

He shook his head. “Sort of numb, honestly, tingly.”

You nodded, swallowing hard to keep the rise of guilt and fear at bay. It didn’t help. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly. 

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t think a little thing like this is going to scare me off. I meant what I said. I intend to give you your fill.”

“You don’t have to give it all at once,” you promised. “I can be patient when it counts.” 

A sly smile turned at his lips. “I almost hope you won’t. You’re not the only one who's starving.”

Heat spread up your neck, something Astarion undoubtedly caught as he gave a low laugh. 

“Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what happens next?” he asked. 

“I’m…not sure,” you admitted. “Nobody else has ever given me the chance to figure that out.” 

He nodded slowly, before taking a small step back. His head tilted as if to examine you from every angle. A question started to form on your tongue just as the start of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly straightened before placing a hand on his chest and regarded you with a deep bow. 

You grinned, matching him with a curtsy of your own. 

He then offered his hand, which you easily took before he pulled you just a little closer. Your other hand found his shoulder while his pressed lightly on your waist. And then you did what was only natural. You danced. 

It wasn’t anything elaborate. There was no fire or sparks of magic. You simply moved together to a song of your own imagination. It stirred in your chest, the barest pluck of a melody, but it was yours and his; the promise of a symphony to come.

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