#the place of his backstory and the party MIGHT get to go there... and hes dead

[minhosimthings]

Dirty, Dirty Girl || PSH, 18+

Summary: You were the police captain's daughter. He was the resident bad boy. It was like a match made in lustful heaven.

Pairings: badboy!Sunghoon × police captain's daughter!reader

Warnings: Smut minors DNI, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex, exhibitionism, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (not for you), fingering, slight thigh riding, daddy kink, dumbification, breeding kink, degradation, multiple orgasms cause I'm a lonely piece of shit, cumming inside, mention of cigarettes, hoon and reader match each other's freaks a lot, me being a simp for park Sunghoon

A/N: yo yo yo Enhablr guess who's back from her monthly hibernation ME. Kinda died while I was writing this i initially wanted to do something really long, like with backstory and all that, but I neither had the time nor the energy so just enjoy the horny smut I wrote yipeee I hope my beloved @jaeyunluvr will enjoy this!!

Sunghoon's fingers toyed with the belt loop of his ripped jeans as he sat in a lazy posture in the almost empty library. This author says 'almost empty', because of the strict librarian dressed up in what appeared to be a sweater from the 70's and one Jay Park with his girlfriend, sitting in the corner and giggling over some book.

Sunghoon scoffed as he glanced at them from time to time, taking a swig from his bottle of 'water' everytime Jay's girlfriend slapped his chest playfully. Though Sunghoon was externally sporting a disgusted face (complete with his iconic side eye), internally, he was waiting for his own girlfriend to show up.

It was a calm Friday evening, which usually meant that Sunghoon would be living up to his ice prince title by going to some or the other party on the other side of town. But since last week (or was it last month?), he had been confined to the torturous prison of being tutored by a classmate in order to improve his grades. His parents had imposed it upon him after what had been his fifteenth run in with the local police captain.

Fortunately though, the captain, someone who was exactly like Sunghoon's father but only more stricter, had let Sunghoon go, on the condition that he'd attend his tutoring lessons. If he didn't, it would be straight to juvie.

Though Sunghoon wasn't someone who payed attention to threats and whatnot, having grown used to it after his reputation of the 'bad boy' was sought after by other people, he payed careful attention to his threat. Specifically, he paid careful attention to his tutor.

You.

His beautiful, smart girlfriend of a year now.

Fortunately for him, you were the one assigned by your teachers to be his tutor—all of them thinking that your inherent goodness might just rub off on him.

Unfortunately for him, you were also the police captain's beloved only child.

Sunghoon heard the door to the library slowly creak as it opened. Snapping his head to the direction of the sound, he beamed with happiness as he saw you, dressed in your usual shirt and cardigan along with a skirt that reached just above your knees. The sight of you drove Sunghoon crazy.

"Hey Hoonie." You smiled, as you sat down next to him on the chair, pulling yourself closer to the desk. No sooner had you set your bag down on the table, than Sunghoon had his hand placed on your thigh, gently squeezing it.

"Sunghoon." You glared playfully at him, "We need to study, come on."

"Whatever you say, princess." Sunghoon chuckled, opening up his books with a flick of his fingers whilst you arranged your own material on the table. He unconsciously scooted his chair closer to you, earning a rightful glare from the librarian at the sound of the chair scraping on the floor. Looking apologetically over at the librarian, you moved your book closer to his, ready to start the new (boring) math lesson.

••••••••••••••••

"So if you divide two here, what will you get?" You glanced at Sunghoon, taking your eyes off the book. You softly smiled when you saw him slightly dozing off. Sleep coated his features rather adorably to you.

"Hoonie..." You nudged him slightly with your elbow, "Baby, wake up." As a second measure, you leaned over and pressed your lips to his cheek, leaving a bit of your shiny lip balm on his porcelain skin.

"I was waiting for that." Sunghoon's soft voice vibrated through your being, as his eyes fluttered open. With a mischievous smirk on his face, he extended his arm and wrapped it around your waist, bringing his lips down to kiss all over your neck.

"Baby." You said with a stern tone, trying not to squirm out loud, due to the cheek-warming sensation of his arm squeezing your thigh and his lips brushing your neck so gently, "Sunghoon, we're in a library."

"And the way to the bathrooms is there." He tilted his head up from your neck and looked at you with darkened eyes, biting his bottom lip with his vampire-like teeth, "Come on princess." His mouth twisted into a smirk, "I know you want it."

Biting your own lip, you rolled your eyes, before closing your books and depositing them inside your bag. Sunghoon followed likewise, his hand not leaving your waist even once.

"Fuck you Park Sunghoon." You mumbled, as you walked over to where the sign written 'Bathroom' was pointing, "Do you have any idea what my dad would say if he found out about us?"

"Oh shush." Sunghoon chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, "He loves me enough to summon me to his office on a weekly basis."

"Keep up the delulu score Hoon." You giggled.

"More delusional than you?"

"Hey!"

•••••••••••

Sunghoon began to lead you through the library and into the dark bathroom, a sense of urgency in your steps as you made your way through the room, his hands only straying away from your skin for a few seconds, before going at it again.

You were a tangled mess, stumbling through the darkness, throwing your dignity off in corners neither of you didn't really care for and soon, your back was pressed against the graffiti-filled wall, with Sunghoon's hard-on rubbing against your skirt in such an agressive way, that you thought you might as well have cummed without even starting. You couldn't take it anymore and grabbed his neck, pulling him closer and pressed your lips to his. He didn't hesitate for a second and cooperated, biting your lower lip to have better penetration for his tongue.

"So needy for me, huh princess?" Sunghoon smirked through the kiss. His right hand went underneath your skirt, his fingers groping your thigh tightly until he was able to find the waistband of your panties, ripping it off faster than you could register anything. His lips never left your body even once, the pretty pink of it, decorating your skin with marks that you know you'll have to make up a curling iron excuse for.

"Hoonie—don't tease." You whined, your lips searched desperately for his.

"Patience baby." Sunghoon chuckled again, "Or does my princess not want my tongue, hm?"

You squirmed when you felt him quickly slipping a finger in your pussy, smiling into your neck as he felt you moan into his hand. Sunghoon pressed a kiss against your neck, as he wasted no time, thumb rubbing against your clit as his finger penetrated your hole. He stuck another finger in, loving the fact he had you trembling under him. His two fingers curved inside of you, watching as your thighs shook at his unexpected action.

"Fuck—daddy!" Your body shuttered as your lips let a moan escape, throwing your head back as his fingers worked rapidly around you. The small noises escaping your mouth showed Sunghoon how much you loved it as he pumped his finger into you.

“God — you’re so wet.” Sunghoon hummed, letting his head rest on your shoulder as he added another finger into the mix.

“fuck—“ you muttered, wincing a bit as his thick digits stretched you out. You spread your legs, giving Sunghoon a better angle to sink his fingers deeper into your pussy.

His lips angrily crashed into yours as his pace on your pussy slowed down, only slightly. You were moaning into each other's lips, a pornographic scene painted the library's bathroom and the thought occured to you only now, whether or not you had shit the door.

"Hoon—" you broke the kiss, your hands scratched at his back, "Hoonie—the door."

Sunghoon paused, a warm breath echoed against your skin as he mumbled a tiny 'fuck' and looked back, his eyes tracing the doorknob. You took the opportunity to stare at his neck, soft skin covering the strong thews of muscle, with a delicious looking vein tracing it like a never-ending valley.

Before you could stop yourself, your mouth was on his neck, leaving wet kisses at his veins, practically sucking the life out of his neck like a starved vampire. Sunghoon's fingers were still inside your gaping hole, something you didn't bother to remember until they suddenly snapped up and bumped against your cunt, making you gasp against Sunghoon's neck.

"Needy fucking baby." Sunghoon whispered, bringing his free hand up from your waist to stroke your cheeks gently. Looking at his gentle eyes, you seized the chance to crash your lips against his once more, tasting the intoxicating flavour of cigarettes and gin from his beautiful lips.

"Fuck princess...let me...let me taste you." Sunghoon whispered breathless against your lips, like he needed it badly, and it did make you stop, gently fluttering your eyes open with your hand hovering over his abs.

He gave you a devilish smirk, before he got on his knees and his face disappeared between your legs. Your breath started shaking as you leaned against your palms to have a better view of Sunghoon. Without any warning, he slammed his lips, still wet from your saliva, on your folds.You immediately throw your head back as you sink your fingers into his hair, while trying to keep your voice down.

He was just giving you a sweet little kisses at first, starting from your clit down to your pulsating core. He repeated this few times, before he penetrated his tongue inside you. You bite your lips really hard, as you desperately tried to be as quiet as possible. You were starting to closing your legs from that unimaginable pleasure, but Sunghoon had his strong hands on your thighs, keeping them from crushing his head.

You tasted amazing, he couldn't get enough of your juice and he needed more, he was voracious. That was why he buried his face even deeper into your core, making you arch your back and grab Sunghoon's hair really hard, that you almost pulled some out.

Your body was teetering on the edge, every stroke of Sunghoon's tongue pushing you closer to the brink. The way he alternated between nosing at your clit and teasing your entrance was driving you wild, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. You could feel the pressure building, your muscles tightening as you tried to hold on, wanting to savor every second of the intoxicating pleasure he was giving you.

“Deeper, please. Almost there.” You gasped out as Sunghoon's tongue sucked mercilessly on your pussy, “Fuck, you feel so good, Hoonie.”

A keening moan tore from Sunghoon’s throat at your praise and that, combines with a particularly precise thrust of his fingers and his wet tongue pressing tightly against your clit made you stumble over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you in waves, legs quivering, pussy clenching around Sunghoon’s tongue and chest heaving. Vaguely, you registered him moaning against you, his eyes falling shut as he worked you through your orgasm.

"fuck.." you heard (felt) Sunghoon groan, "that was some nice dinner."

"Fuck. You. Park. Sunghoon." You gasped with each letter, as Sunghoon pressed his hands to your thighs once more, "My dad is gonna kill me for being home late!"

"Poor baby." Sunghoon mockingly cooed at you, "Daddy's little girl aren't you?" His tone of voice had you struggling to shush your whimpering, "I'll drop you princess, just give him the old 'we were studying hard excuse'."

"The only thing that was hard here was your dick Park Sunghoon."

"And yet you love me."

•••••••••••

Your mouth stretched into a smile, as you felt your baby sister cuddle closer into your arms, all wrapped comfortably in her blanket. You truly loved her with all your heart but you hadn't gotten the opportunity to spend much time with her, as she was always with your mother. But for this evening, while your parents would be gone out on their sudden date, you'd have all the time in the world.

"Y/N honey!" You heard your mom call you from her room, adjacent to your sister's. Calling back to her, you put your sister down in her bassinet and with a twirl of her baby mobile, you skipped out the room and went into her room.

"You called, mom?" You said, eyeing your mother, who was re-applying her lipstick.

"Honey, Sunghoon's in the living room for you." Your mother said with a pop of her lips, "He came all the way here with his books so late at night, the poor boy."

Your stomach did a double flip when you heard Sunghoon's name came out of your mother's lips. Though your dad did not get along with him much, your mother adored him. Rather, she adored the innocent personality that Sunghoon had adopted specifically for her, for some stupid future plan he had created where he'd reveal your relationship with him to your parents as soon as he struck gold.

You had planned another tutoring session with Sunghoon that evening, but you must have completely forgot about it on hearing about your parent's date. Internally slapping yourself, you thanked your mother and made your way down to the living room, where you knew your worst nightmare would be sitting.

Your father and Park Sunghoon in one room.

•••••••••••••••

"So.." Sunghoon winced at the sound of the gruff male voice, "How have the tutoring lessons been?"

"Good, sir." Sunghoon painfully responded, "I've been doing better in class." With what he hoped was a goodie-two-shoes smile, he added, "All thanks to your daughter."

"My daughter, yes." The elder man nodded and coughed, adjusting his tie, "Remember, she's my daughter. So don't you try anything funny with her, got it?"

"Oh no, never sir." Sunghoon responded with a voice that he thought was a scandalized one, "I'd never do that." He tried hard not to remember your fucked out face the day before in the library.

"If you even go near her—"

"Dad, can you stop threatening him already?" You groaned, stepping into the room with a guffaw. If you asked Sunghoon later on, whether or not he pressed his legs together tighter after seeing your thighs in shorts that were definetly too short, he would probably say no.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't remember we had a session." You say down beside your dad, with your eyes glued to Sunghoon, "Um, we can study for an hour or two if you want."

"You can study until your mother and I get back." Your dad responded with a soft look towards you. You smiled back at him and glanced towards Sunghoon.

A devious smirk was almost tugging at the corner of his lips.

••••••••••••••

"Park Sunghoon, if you touch my thigh one more time, I'll make you do this entire chapter on your own."

"Oh what shame, I was positively dying to do it with you." Sunghoon said with his usual shit-eating grin.

"Why am I dating you again?" You rolled your eyes and turned your face away from him and towards your book. Soon enough however, when Sunghoon's fingers grabbed your chin ever so gently and turned it towards him, you were met with his eyes again.

"Because you love me." His cold breath against your skin made you softly gasp. Bringing your eyes down to his lips, you moved closer, before you were almost left without any space between the both of you, lips ghosting against each other in an attempt for a fervent kiss.

"Aren't we supposed to be studying, pretty?" Sunghoon let out a cold laugh, bringing his hand to cup your cheek again. But just as you were about to kiss–

Waahhhh!

"shit." You mumbled, darting your eyes towards the upstairs bedrooms, "I think she woke up."

"Your sister?" Sunghoon asked, releasing his grip on your thigh so you could get up, "Does she need food or something?"

"Nah she ate already." You replied, signalling him to follow you up the stairs, "She just gets cranky sometimes...you know–without mom."

"Ahh." Sunghoon nodded (as if he understood much about babies).

He promptly followed you into the dark room, which had all sorts of baby toys scattered on the floor, with only a faint blue light illuminating it's walls. In the middle of the room, was a bassinet, where a screaming baby ould be seen rolling in her sheets. Sunghoon's eyes carefully followed your hands, gently reaching out to your baby sister, all the while cooing her name.

"There, there I'm here, it's okay." You said gently, reaching into the bassinet and picking up the tiny bundle of blankets, "It's alright."

"Does she usually just stop crying if you say that?" Sunghoon whispered, his eyes never leaving the baby in your arms.

"You do, so I guess it'll work on her." You softly giggled, still rocking your sister forward and back, her cries died down after some time, although she still remained wide awake, staring curiously at the new presence in the room standing next to you.

"Why is she looking at me as if she wants to kill me." Sunghoon asked, eliciting a laugh out of you.

"She's a baby, Hoon. She looks at everyone like that." You laughed again, looking at your sister practically glaring at Sunghoon, "I don't think she likes her future brother-in-law that much though."

"Brother in law huh?" Sunghoon asked in a cocky manner, "Well, my apologies great princess." He lowered his head towards your sister, who magically seemed to be satisfied. Her tiny mouth framed an adorable yawn, and her eyelids slowly drooped until she was fast asleep in your arms again.

You lowered her into a bassinet once more, adjusting her blankets around her so that she could cuddle into it in her sleep, a fact you knew from your nights of babysitting. Looking at her once last time, you activated the baby mobile, and stepped out, with Sunghoon following behind you. You shut the door behind you as quietly as possible, breathing a sigh of relief that your sister didn't wake up.

"How about we study in your room?" Sunghoon suggested from behind you, "If she wakes up again, you don't have to climb the stairs."

"Good idea."

••••••••••••••••••••

You didn't know how much time has passed since you and Sunghoon had been doing physics equations in your bedroom, with him sitting on your computer chair, and you sitting on the edge of the bed, with books propped up in both your laps. Time slowly ticked by in the lighthearted conversations and stupid questions about gravity, that you didn't have the chance to notice how particularly delicious and inviting Sunghoon's lap was looking. But now, in the peaceful silence, you could practically hear your eyelashes flutter at the sight of his lap.

"Staring are we, princess?" Sunghoon chuckled, snapping you out of your daze.

"Nope." You responded with a smile, like a complete and utter liar, "Just—got distracted."

"By my legs?" He laughed again, "Aww, does my princess want to sit on my lap?"

"Sunghoon no." You rolled your eyes, quickly changing the subject, "We should study something else, I'll get the chemistry manuals."

But just as you got up, Sunghoon swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you harshly against him, such that you perfectly fell onto his thigh. His arms settled on your waist to balance you, and his lips pressed a wet kiss to your neck. One of his hands travelled up your body to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear, an action which sent butterflies wilding in your stomach, and the north sea wilding in your pants.

"Hoonie~" you said, silently gasping at the way he steadied his thigh such that it out pressure against your cunt through your shorts, "We shouldn't....."

But Sunghoon said nothing at all, merely resorting to squeezing your waist with his hands, and pressing his mouth to your neck, suckling hard on your skin. His obsession for leaving his beautiful marks on you was not letting go, and soon enough, you had to give in, reciprocating with a deep mouthed kiss to his puckered lips.

Sunghoon's tongue swirled inside your mouth, and you could taste the flavour of cherry pie, a bit of vodka too and a whole lot of love. You slightly bit his lip, putting your hand on his chest and pulling his shirt towards you.

When Sunghoon felt you rock against him slightly he knew he had broken that barrier, which was keeping you from letting him absolutely ravish your pussy. You were never this forward with him, and was always the one to stop Sunghoon when he got a bit carried away. Yet there you were, gently rocking against him while you kissed, moving against his jeans almost desperately, rubbing against him until there was a rock hard bulge for you to move against and he had to gently push you off him.

“Sunghoon,” you basically mewl his name, eight letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Daddy, please.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

He peels his eyes open, takes in the sight of you, and lifts his hands from your waist to remove your top. He easily pulls it off of you and discards it in a corner, and before you know it, your bare chest is being massaged by Sunghoon's hand. He bites his lip as he plays with your nipples, reveling in the way you whimper at the sensitive touch.

"You like that princess?" Sunghoon asks in his cocky manner, "Shouldn't we continue this somewhere else?"

Before you could respond, his hands are propped up against your ass and he's carrying you to your bed, laying you down ever so gently. You let out a whine at his hands leaving your skin, but quickly shut up as you watch him carefully take his belt off, setting it aside on the bed. His hard on was visible from his pants, and the sight of it already had you cumming.

His tongue swiped over his lips, wetting it before, he swiftly took his shirt off, revealing his chiseled figure. Your eyes lingered over his abs, going further down to his length as he took his pants off. Sunghoon stood, like some Greek god before you, handsome, carved and waiting to be pleasured. And you were more than glad to let him use your hole as his fucktoy for the evening.

"You'll be quiet, yeah princess?" Sunghoon crawled up with bed and got on top of you, getting his face as near to your as possible, "Don't wanna wake your sister up now do we?"

With a smirk, Sunghoon lowered his mouth to your neck, kissing down your collarbone, his hands exploring every curve of your body. The sensation was electric, igniting every nerve ending in ways you never imagined possible. He moved with the grace of a predator, just as fierce as he was intoxicating.

"Tell me what you want, baby." He said, in between kisses, "Tongue as usual?"

"Please Hoonie." You sigh, smiling at him. He starts to kiss down the length of your body, starting with feather light kisses at your collarbone, and going to rougher kisses down your stomach. Your eyes catch Sunghoon's biceps flex as he spreads your legs open, like he's preparing some food to devour on a silver platter.

The sight in front of him was almost too arousing for his already too-rock hard length. Strings of your arousal all so pretty and ready for him to use, your swollen clit that peaked out from your pink folds, such a beautiful cunt he was about to savor. Sunghoon licked a fat stripe up from the bottom to the top of your slit, gently placing teasing kisses on your sensitive bud.

“Daddy — oh! Mm.. oh my God oh!” His ears soaked in the sounds of your moans, each shaky breath, every gasp and groan, all of it because of him. Sunghoon could never get over your taste, you were oh so sweet, a nectar of the highest quality, he thanked whatever god there was for the privilege to savor you. Every swipe of his muscle made you sticky and beautiful, as your cunt became deliciously glossy he become more insatiable. He lifted his head periodically, only to coo or groan.

“Fuck me baby, taste so fucking good — feels good doesn’t it my little princess? Yes it does” he murmured as we dropped his head back down.The corners of his mouth curled up in a beautiful smirk.

"Stupid baby. Don't have any shame fucking me with your baby sister sleeping next door?" Tsk tsk." Sunghoon clicked his tongue, you couldn't register much, though his tongue was not inside you, you could still feel it's touch, "Dirty dirty princess."

Your head flew back when he began to swirl his tongue around your clit, euphoria gnawing at any sense of inhibitions you had left as you practically wailed in ecstasy. You felt all of your limbs turn to jelly the second Sunghoon suddenly plunged his thick tongue back into your entrance.

"Sunghoon!" you mewled as he thrusted his wet muscle deep inside your juicy, pulsing hole. Your breasts rose and fell quickly as you felt yourself careening towards the edge of your release. You screamed his name as your body grew stiff, your walls hugging his tongue as it relentlessly massaged the inside of your gushing cunt.

Sunghoon groaned as he slurped your delicious juices like a man parched. You saw stars as your body was overwhelmed with wave after wave of bliss, your mind foggy as you practically rode his face. Eventually, your breathing began to settle as you lowered your hips back onto the mattress.

Sunghoon took note of the way your thighs slightly shook. Just after my tongue, he silently chuckled, feeling proud of himself. Slowly, he rose up and brought his hands back to your waist, steadying himself on top of you. You could feel his hardened cock just touch your vulva.

"Hoonie~" you groaned, "Hoonie~need your cock please."

Sunghoon did nothing but let out a rather attractive chuckle, while his mouth formed into a devilish smirk. If you knew Park Sunghoon, you knew that smirk meant trouble.

His hips were easing back and forth, the fat tip of his swollen cock rubbing all in between your slicked folds. And there were, watching him with a gaping mouth as he sits there and teases your cunt.

"Daddy~" a pathetic whine now leaves your lips, a desperate cry of help that makes you look so innocent, so pure to Sunghoon, it almost drove him crazy.

"Poor baby." He cooed at you, his angry tip still teasing your vulva, "Want daddy's cock so bad huh?" His low chuckle sent a wave through your body, "C'mon princess, be a good girl and tell me how much you want my cock."

"Please daddy~" you let out a high pitched whine again, all your self respect was lost for his cock, "~need your cock so bad."

Sunghoon muttered your name, low in the base of his throat, before he leaned in. Your lips met slowly, molding together in harmony for one slow second before you opened your mouth. Inviting him in, you kissed delicately and placed your arms on his sides. Your heads turned in opposite directions, opening up for more room to explore with your tongues. The intensity grew, as did the burning desire in his core to feel your pussy. To feel you, live you, breathe you, he was going insane. Just touching your hair, trying his hardest not to mess it up, was sending hot arousal down his cock into his swollen head. 

"My dumb little princess." Sunghoon mumbled, you could feel his pre-cum slowly drip down on your thigh from his bare cock hanging above you, "So needy for her daddy."

You couldn't even respond before you feel the head of his dick teasing your entrance, and you slowly lower yourself onto him, taking him inside inch by delicious inch. You moan as he stretches you, filling you up completely.

Once he is fully sheathed inside you, you stay still for a moment, enjoying the sensation of being impaled on his thick cock. He listened to your whines, nodding while you blabbered whatever you were blabbering, slowly pushing himself in you. You shivered at the additional heat burning from your lower stomach. You had been pleading for this and still it felt as though your mind would rupture at any given second.

The feel of his large length inside of you lights your nerves on fire. His swollen cock head kisses your cervix just right, sensing socks of pleasure throughout your dripping core. You're shuddering and shaking in pleasure with every move you make, which causes his cock to slide deeply in and out of you; hitting your special spot just right. Sunghoon was writhing in his ego at the fact that he wasn't even going at his normal pace.

"Feelin' so good, tight little pussy wrapped around me so perfect-fuck," Sunghoon rasped as his nails dug into your sides. You cried out when he brushed over your g-spot, stars bursting across your vision as your legs shook. Sunghoon grunted as he started to pick up the pace, your cheeks clapping against the mattress as he thrusted into your weeping cunt.

"D-Daddyyyy~" you rasped as your jaw went slack. Sunghoon hissed between gritted teeth as your cunt convulsed around his cock, sucking him in deeper as he shallowly thrusted into you.

"Yeah that's it—soak daddy's cock," he breathed as he held your asscheeks apart. Your hole puckered around his girth as you shivered, your hips shifting back on their own as Sunghoon fucked you through your high.

"So—shit–tight for me." He growls out, sitting on his knees while his massive hands easily hold onto your hips, lifting you up with him while he pounded into you, your moans mixed with his as he used you like you were simply a fleshlight— compared to his massive frame, you are.

He moves your hips away as he pulls out, suddenly slamming himself all the way back in before you can protest. He drags a whiny moan out of you, pain and pleasure mixing as you can feel a familiar warmth building up in your stomach. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he mutters out pure nonsense. His voice sounds hotter than ever and you listen intently, dumbly nodding your head to his words despite not understanding him.

As the tightness in your stomach continues to build, your fingers loop through the softest curls of Sunghoon's and tug, pulling his face down to meet yours. Your lips crashing together in a heated kiss, tongues swirling against each other. Sunghoon's pace quickens, his movements sloppy and desperate as he chases his release and you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind him and pressing him deeper inside you. 

“F-fuck, i’m gonna cum, you gotta let go” Sunghoon pants, pulling back from your kiss slightly to speak but you shake your head.

“Inside, Hoonie please. Ngh– want you to fill me up” you moan against his lips, your words causing his eyes to roll back in his head as he returns his lips to yours.

With one last thrust, a low guttural moan pulls from the back of Sunghoon’s throat and you feel his cock twitching inside you, flicking up towards your sweet spot a final time. His twitching and the warmth of his release pumping into you pushes you over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping as a stream of moans falls from your lips.

Sunghoon's lust blown eyes rolled into the back of his head as he witnessed you squirting messily around his cock. It was the hottest thing he's seen in his life. Oh, how you're fucking perfect for him.

“Fuck—you want my baby, huh princess? You don't wanna wait anymore?.” Your boyfriend points out while pistoning in and out of you at an uncontrollable speed. “Shit–you're so messy." He thrusts into you mercilessly like an addict, your pussy was the highest high he could ever reach, "My messy girl."

Resting your forehead against his, you blissfully order, “Cum inside me, daddy please.”

And that was all Sunghoon needed to hear to release his pent up please. His balls tensed as he bucked up deep inside of your cunt, only to unleash rope after rope of his cum. You hold on to his shoulders as he empties his balls inside of you; painting your hole white with his thick, hot seed.

"Fucking hell." You swore loudly, falling down on the mattress with a thud. Your chest rose up and down rapidly, your breath slowing with each minute. You saw Sunghoon steady himself before he pulled out. You winced when you felt your hole being emptied.

Your eyes followed Sunghoon as he sat on his knees, throwing his head back, with a panting chest. You didn't register much of him sliding into bed next to you, your brain was too fucked out to notice anything at all.

"Should I run a bath, baby?" He asked gently, tracing circles on your thigh with his finger. You twisted your body towards him and latched onto his arm, bringing yourself closer to him.

"Mum and dad won't be here for another two hours." You told him, your hand cradling his cheek. His jawline was so sharp you were surprised it hadn't cut you yet.

"Two hours huh?" Sunghoon asked, the smirk back on his face, as he took your hand from his cheek and kissed it.

"Round two?"

Taglist: @jjongsha @furina-toko @jakeswifez @kpopaussieline @lvnglysunoo @hearts4yawnzzn @pasteltheghost16

[infevious]

WISH YOU WERE SOBER

sum: confessing to him when you’re drunk

pairing: kinich x gn reader

contains: drunken confession, slight mention of his backstory

a/n: i was listening to “wish you were sober” by Conan Gray and thought of this, this is my first fic so uhhhh enjoy 😀😊⁉️ i have not written a fanfic since middle school and im high asf rn so it might be bad LOL might be ooc

———————————————————————————

This party's shit

Kinich sat around while everyone else was celebrating, he saw how you drank bottle after bottle. It hurt to see someone he cared about so deeply drink, it reminded him of his father, who he hated. But he couldn’t hate you, even if he tried.

wish we could dip, go anywhere but here

After a while you sat next to him, he didn’t want to come; he came for you. You excitedly asked if he was going to the celebration your tribe was having, he only agreed because he knew you would be there.

Don't take a hit, don't kiss my lips

You were awfully clingy when drunk, an equally drunk mualani had to pry you off her. You did the same to him; grabbing his arm and whining.

“I love you so much thank you for being my friend!” you cried

friend.

That’s all he was to you, just a friend.

And please don't drink more beer

He took the bottle away from you, poring what was left of it onto the floor and placing the empty bottle on the crate he was sitting on. He rolled his eyes as you whined

“You drank enough for tonight”

It hurt to see you drink so heavily, but he would never tell you that.

I'ma crawl outta the window now, ‘Cause I don't like anyone around

He looked around at everyone there, drunk, dancing, and celebrating. He never really talked to any of them and didn’t plan to, after all he only came for you. The few people he did talk to was strictly business. He slowly got up and took his arm away from your grip.

Kinda hope you're followin' me out

But this is definitely not my crowd

“Wait..!”

He turned around to see you stumbling behind him.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m tired” Lies.

“…Me too..um- can- can you walk me home? I’m scared to- to go alone”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want you waking home alone in this state either..”

Nineteen, but you act twenty-five now

You always thought he was mature for his age, in Mualani’s words he always “has a stick up his ass”. You couldn’t blame him though, with the environment he grew up in..

Trip down the road, walking you home

“Come on, trouble magnet”

He waited for you to catch up and put an arm around your waist holding you up so you wouldn’t fall, you could barely walk and he was annoyed, sad even.

“The stars are so pretty”

“It’s really hot..”

“Woah look at the moon!”

He was getting tired of your endless sentences. He couldn’t understand how you could be such a heavy drinker. Was it a coping skill? He went through a lot and never thought about picking up a bottle. Did you enjoy the feeling? He wouldn’t know, he always swore to never try it. He didn’t want to end up like him.

Pullin' me close, beg me, "Stay over"

“Stay over..it’s too late and- I dont want to be alone right now”

He looked down at your drunken state, eyes half lidded, cheeks red; you looked so beautiful. He was always confused on how you were never like his father when drunk, you were always smiling, laughing, dancing, the complete opposite of him.

But I'm over this roller-coaster

He listened to you talk about whatever popped up into your mind, he turned to look at you after you’ve been quiet for some time. You were just looking at him, his lips.

“This- this is a dream right..?”

He looked at you confused, dream? Where did that come from?

“Sure, yeah this is a dream”

He didn’t really think anything of it, were you going to tell him an embarrassing memory? A secret no one else was supposed to know? Or- no. You would never..you said it yourself he was just a friend.

He looked at you, the moon light making you look almost angelic. He noticed you looking at his lips and then his eyes.

“If this is a dream then i can…”

He felt your lips press against his and it felt like time had stopped.

You pulled away, whispering an ‘I really like you’ before passing out almost immediately. He just sat there, a million thoughts rushing through his head. What the hell just happened? He looked down at you and noticed a small smile.

Real sweet, but I wish you were sober

[local-diavolo-anon]

i'm back!

ok so 2/3 days ago i found this youtube video where op turned Springtrap (or well, William Afton) into a fully build DnD character, and if i say so myself: things got out of hand fast

so here is my take on DnD Springtrap and specifically on that build (adding more infos under the cut for who is interested, i suggest to watch the video first)

starting with saying that unless you're playing in a scifi setting, this build is either not for you or to be modified, since in later levels spells are heavily centered around technomagic and electronic devices; personally when i will play him i will probably tinker around with the chosen spells and cantrips to make him less violently niche and/or more versatile

which kinda saddens me because it takes away not little of the characterization but, given most dnd stories take place in a medieval fantasy or high fantasy setting, a cantrip like On/Off or a spell like Remote Access are NOT particularly useful; so i will go for more psychic damage or necromancy oriented abilities, maybe i might take more than just 4 levels in artificier as well (especially given that again, all of those warlock spells at later levels are all technology oriented) but i need to see what those offer

however it is a kinda tank-y build given that with a shield on you can get up to a 27 of Ac, so even with low damage and not much hp you would not struggle too much to stay alive, and i like that!

as for the character himself, i put too much effort into my interpretation not to share it, so if anyone wants to play this guy as well, i fabricated a possible backstory that might come useful:

The character goes by the name "Dave Miller" (or whatever variant you want to use), and was originally a human artificier who created constructs for a living, mainly with the goal of offering aid to who needed it for whatever reason.

There however he ran into an issue, that being that a robot need a power source, and his own heart and lungs could not sustain a whole robot by themselves.

After losing part of his family to some kind of accident he became terrified of death, so with age he started replacing his own body parts with machinery to delay his last days (which made him a cyborg), until the point where he was very very close to become just a robot.

(This part may or may not involve a pact with a deity of death, this entirely depends on how you want to play him but it would make sense since the build is an artificier/warlock hybrid)

Through particular and very much not illegal experiments tied to necromancy he discovered that the life force of a living being could be shared, and used as a form of fuel. (possibly: age lived of the creature used= amount of extra months you get)

Here comes the second problem: this only worked with intelligent creatures, and more specifically, it worked best with creatures of your own race, which meant that he either went around murdering people or he found another solution. Non same-race creatures worked as well but not as good and there were not easy to find in the middle of a city and with a shop tied to your name.

And here is where and WHY he'd join a party of adventurers: after some time, his reserves or fuel were running VERY thin, and running into a group of adventurers was a god sent because by joining their party he essentially got a free pass to kill whoever he wanted, and reduce them to a dried raisin after sucking some life force out of them. Doing so you learn that the mowe powerful the creature is, the more energy it produces as well.

Your goal, that you as the player are following, when role-ing your character? essentially slay whatever powerful BBEG your Dm throws at you and suck all of that juicy fuel out of them, so that you can return to your little shop in the middle of the capital and return to create and sell whatever weird construct, doll, or robot comes to your mind for another few decades undisturbed.

And this is it. I think this might be a good backstory that could fit pretty much any setting you want to play this guy into, be it classic dnd or some scifi futuristic thing.

of course you don't NEED to use this one line per line, make up your own without looking back if you don't like it lol, dnd is the "make up shit and have fun" game after all!

Edit: also no his outfit makes no sense, i just went with vibes and decided a tanktop dress shirt, a twin tailed gilet and suspenders OVER said gilet was a good choice.

[thinkingotherwise]

Hello! Just a girly obsessed with Umemiya, requesting a scenario where he thinks reader and him are dating but he didn’t officially ask. A little bit of panic happens before he realizes his mistake 😆🥹🩵 (any levels of spicy 😆) 🙏🏼

Cute, it's like dating but not really.

Hajime is a little chaotic in this and acts before thinking.

Hajime Umemiya x reader

A little spoiler to Hajime's backstory, not much he just wants to introduce you to his family.

- Umemiya's touch was more frequent, you noticed recently. It was surprising but you didn't mind it at all. - It brought you a sense of relief even if you felt warm whenever it happened. - Of course, your mind searched for the source of what exactly brought this new wave of touchiness. - You remembered it all started during the latest BBQ party that the Bofurin Leader organized and you helped, as usual. - Yet you couldn't recall the specific moment that could bring it, that could deepen your relationship with him. - So you went with it. The fact that you had a crush on him might have been an additional reason.

- But then he asked you to visit his old orphanage together and oh dear, if you knew what it would entail. - You agreed, why wouldn't you when he smiled at you like that with eyes full of excitement? - You walked with him up to the front doors voicing how nervous you were to meet such important people in his life. - "Don't worry, I'm sure they'd love you, I know I do." - He said and that made your mind blank. Did you hear him correctly just now? - Noticing your absentminded stare he thought you were really anxious, so he stepped closer placing his hand on your cheek before connecting your lips together. - Okay, now saying you were confused would be an understatement. - Your brain shut off as you let his lips move against yours. You felt your blood pumping rapidly as warmth spread all over your body. - Then he pulled away sending you his pretty smile and your eyes moved frantically over his features. Your mouth opened as you breathed heavily trying to calm yourself. - "What was-" - You were cut off as Hajime brushed your cheek before letting his hand fall to grip yours. - "You're gonna do well. Don't worry." - His voice was calm and comforting, complete opposite to how you were feeling right now. - Everything happened way too fast for you to catch up. First, he saying he loved you, kissing you, and now the front door opened showing some kids as they cheered seeing Hajime. - An older man appeared behind the group and you felt as if you were about to get a heart attack when Hajime's next words left his mouth. - "Hello guys, as promised, I brought my partner with me. That's (Y/n), be nice to them." - This man, he really wanted to put you in hospital with his unpredictable behavior. - "Ex-excuse me?" - You questioned your hand tightening around Hajime as he still held it. - The older man brought the kids back inside and motioned for you two to join them. Yet you didn't move. - Your hand pulled on Bofurin leader's as you finally collected some confidence to question him. - "Hajime, what is this all about? We're not dating, are we?" - You asked with wide eyes questioning even yourself, if maybe you forgot about something. Did you have some short-term memory loss? - His head tilted to the side as his eyes looked at you disoriented. - "We are, aren't we?" - He questioned back. - And now both of you stood, in front of his orphanage with doors open wide, frozen in place instead of entering. - "Since when?" - You tried to remember when it did happen, was it why he was more touchy with you recently because he thought you were going out? - "Umm.. since the BBQ." - He replied his voice losing its volume, but as he stood close to you, you heard him perfectly well. - "I confessed to you and you reciprocated my feelings." - He added and you went back the memory lane to the day.

- In your mind, it seemed like a normal conversation, well slightly normal as you certainly remembered him saying he liked you in front of everyone, but he did so with others as well and you thought he meant it in a friendly way, so you replied that you liked him too. - You described the memory to him and watched as his mouth opened wide and his ears colored red. - He covered his mouth with his hand and turned away from you as he gasped when reality crashed into him. - Why? Well, he remembered the moment a little differently. - He was looking at you, enchanted by your smile, so much so that he didn't realize that instead of saying things out loud he was thinking them inside his head. In his mind, he confessed all of feelings to you before finally voicing out a short 'I like you'. Which honestly, was supposed to sum up all of his confession but how could it make sense for you when you couldn't read his mind? - So when he heard you saying you also like him, he immediately thought you also shared the same deep feelings he did and that meant you were together.

- The realization appeared in his eyes as he slowly turned to you, his eyes glistening with tears as he looked so apologetic. - "I'm so sorry. Oh my God.. I really apologize I-" - His voice cut as he recalled the last minutes and what he did as well as his previous actions that must have made you uncomfortable, in his opinion. - His knees bent as he kneeled in front of you head bowed down. - You gasped in surprise and embarrassment as he apologized to you. - Your hand moved to grab his biceps as you tried to pick him up from the ground, your eyes darting behind him to the open doors trying to see if someone was watching. But when you found no one you pulled on his arm and he finally stood up. - "I really am sorry, I'll tell everyone at the orphanage that you're my friend and explain it." - He rambled on and you covered his mouth to make him listen to you. - "Umm I really was surprised and confused when you did all that." - You waved your hand as you started talking. Flustered like never but also a little amused at the fact that he confessed to you in his head. - "But I really didn't mind when you became closer. I mean, I do like you, like as more than just a friend but it would be nice to know we were actually dating." - A small smile appeared on your face and Hajime slowly became more relieved seeing that you didn't mind his actions as much as he thought you would. - "So if you still want to, we can make it a reality and this time confess out loud." - His head moved rapidly nodding at your words as he grabbed your hand and pulled it away from his mouth. - "Yes, sure. Of course, I really liked the thought of dating you and the last days when I thought we did." - He replied excitedly before pulling you into a hug which you reciprocated. - That was until the old man that was leading the orphanage appeared at the doors again asking if you were going to join them or would you just stand outside. - You smiled at him, more confident, now that you cleared things up with Hajime, before walking into the building with your new boyfriend following after you.

[alexa-yukiyu]

First off i love all of you one piece fics. I just recently got into the fandom again and i found you fics and they are just amazing

I wanted to request whitebeard crew x teen reader

This js kinda based of my cat, so here's the backstory, we originally had 2 cats until recently when my mom brought back a "stray", really cuddly cat and we all loved it, unfortunately later it turned out that this stray was already someone's cat so we gave it back, but while it was here one of the original cats was really jealous. Usually she hates being picked up except when it's me, but while the "stray" stayed with us she became really mean and not even I was allowed to pick her up

And I wanted to ask if you could write something similar to this, were the whitebeards maybe pick up another teen or just a new crewmate and the reader is kinda jealous/mean and scared the they might be replaced (abandonment issues) and maybe add one person they usually have a great relationship with but suddenly they completely avoid/ignore them and won't let anyone be near them.

I hope you can work with this, sorry for writing so much

Have a great day/night and know that you are amazing!! <3

First Envy (teen!Marco x winged!teen!reader)

A/N . Throwing a tantrum because I left the app to get a pic of young marco to share and tumblr deleted my progress. Anyhow something about young marco just tickles my fancy, he’s just such a goofy guy and even more lovable

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc characters both!

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

“Come on, Dokucha! Join the party!” Vista called excitedly

“You can’t drink yet, but there are a lot of other things you can do; we have set up a lot of games since we have more kids around,” he prattled on, only to pause and wince at the glare the teen sent their way.

“Okay… I’ll leave you be then,” he muttered as he backed away from them and turned around, making a quick exit.

Dokucha sighed, watching from their place on the nest as the rest of the crew below them partied; what brought a scowl to the face, however, was the center of the celebration: their newest addition to the crew, Momonosoke.

They enviously observed as everyone fretted over him, ensuring he didn’t run anywhere dangerous or, God forbid, fall and start crying. Oh, the cries. Every time they cried, it was as if everything had to stop in order to check on him.

“If you stare any harder, Momo won’t survive-yoi!”

“Huh?” They snapped their head around at the sound only to see an empty space beside them rather than a person.

“Up Here-yoi!” Marco laughed as he called to the teen, his devil fruit activated as he used his wings to hold himself upside down in the air.

“Agh! Marco! I told you to stop doing that!” they called, scurrying back to make space between them.

“Haha! But your reactions are just the best-yoi!” he cackled, righting himself up and perching on the railings of the nest.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was lonely down there-yoi! I was missing my best mate!” he called jovially.

“Din’t seem that way, you seem to be just fine with the new people,” they sneered, taking hold of a rope and swinging themselves to an adjacent crow’s nest, their wings flapping on instinct behind them.

“You mean Momo? Well, it is refreshing to have new faces, not to mention that they are quite adorable!” he gushed, a small blush on his face as he did.

“Then, by all means, please go and spend your precious time with them.” They scoff, turning away from them, earning Marco a frown as he glided his way down, straight onto Whitebeard’s shoulder.

“Hey Pops! Something’s going on with Dokucha.”

“Hah, What do you mean?” he grumbled, looking up at his youngest

“Well, they are kind of snappy-yoi”

“They are always snappy, Marco,” he called with a roll of his eyes.

“Huh? No, they’re not. I mean, they aren’t a ray of sunshine, but they aren’t snappy, either. But now they seem to have been avoiding me. They seem to have been like this since Momo arrived,” he mused as a thought hit him.

“Are they jealous of the baby-yoi?!”

“Marco, you idiot!” he growled, bringing his fist down on the armrest of his chair, scaring Marco enough to make him jump off the older man’s shoulders.

“P-Pops?” he called as he took to hovering in front of the man.

“They’re scared!” he snapped.

“Of a baby?!” he cried.

“Listen Here, Marco, the kid has been here for a month. Do you remember where we rescued them from? How they were?! They were close to dying with their wings completely mangled! They are still trying to get used to the fact that not everyone out there is an abusive bastard that will sell them for some spare change!” Whitebeard barked

“T-They think we’re going to leave them?! But we aren’t! Can’t you talk to them, Pops?”

“That’s no good; they won’t listen to me,” he muttered as he tilted his tokkuri all the way, u,p, taking in every drop of the sake inside.

“What is that supposed to mean-yoi? Who would they listen if not you, Pops?” he asked as he flew closer to the man, his worry increasing as time went on.

“You! You Moron!” He boomed

“Me?!”

“Marco, I took them in, but they only trust you at this moment; they relate the most to you physically,” he started, gesturing to his avian features

“And you are the closest in age to them, too,” he finished. It was a small detail, seeing as the next youngest, Vista, was only 2 years older than Marco, standing at seventeen, but it seems that to the thirteen-year-old, this was a significant gap that his older sons were still unable to cross. However, he thought this to not be the defining factor, unlike the features that they both seem to share, Especially now when the teen found themselves in a stage where they had to re-learn everything that had to do with their wings as the appendages slowly grew back, as such they did the most reasonable thing and looked for the person who could guide them, Marco.

“I thought I told you to leave,” they snarled, hearing the flapping of wings behind them and the breeze of wind that came from them.

“You did-yoi.”

“You talked to the old man? He put you up to this?”

“Not really-yoi, he did made me realized you might be feeling lonely though!” he called flying In front of them, giving them no other option but to pay attention to the teen.

“You know we’re just excited for Momo to be here, right? We’re happy you’re here too,” he asked, getting excited as they hummed in response, knowing that they had caught their attention.

“You’re one of us, too,” he grinned, putting himself upside down once again.

“Besides! can’t imagine being without a flying buddy! t was starting to get on my nerves to be the only one able to do air scouting-yoi!” letting out a snicker as he noticed their bashful response at his honest words.

“I can’t really do much of that right now, though,” they muttered, glancing at their tiny stubby wings.

“You will, but you still won’t be able to beat me, so don’t get your hopes up,” he teased.

“As if! give it a few months, you will be eating those words!”

“You’re on-yoi.”

“Ha! I don’t need them to beat you now!” They smirked, taking hold of the ropes once again as they swung away, grabbing a hold of another rope as soon as their current one ran out, effectively gliding around the ship with little to no effort.

“You better not regret taking me on-yoi.” He called as he righted himself and propelled himself forward right after Dokucha.

“Ha! You show that prick, Dokucha! Someone has to put him in his place!” Fossa grinned as his crewmates joined in, cheers and whistles sounded across the Deck as the two avians traversed the ship, their own glee evident.

Look at this goofy guy

Was trying to find the one of him upside down but this will do. Also this fic just made me realized that Marco isin’t the oldest one in the crew :p I had thought he was older than the other commanders but theres like five older than him.

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[utilitycaster]

Is there a place of no return you wish you could go back to answer say no stop this is a bad idea? For me, it was the 33 - 34. Either Orym should have stayed dead, or Matt should have put his foot down when Liam suggested calling Keyleth. Or why even have Keyleth be Ok with going to whitestone? If it has to be VM related it could have been Juniper. She's a cleric, she can be known by Orym. But yeah everything about Whitestone, C1 VM and how that all happened I would tell them bad idea

I mean, my initial point was that this should have had a session zero. Laudna's concept should have been drastically reworked, it might have been wise to have had Orym a little more detached from Vox Machina (Ashari from a different tribe would have done the trick), and Laura and Ashley should have been told they'd be in a particularly central and decision-heavy role and given an option to turn it down at absolute minimum; I'd also have possibly asked Travis if he'd be willing to play a person with ties to Marquet even if he'd spent time elsewhere and frankly this also might have been a good idea with Laudna. I would also require higher INT scores and that the Marquet-based characters have some understanding of the Apex War, and I'd ask everyone to think about how their character feels about the gods and weave that into their backstory and work with them if it doesn't fit into the worldbuilding.

However, assuming the party we have I agree that probably the biggest misstep was that Matt should have made Keyleth unavailable to answer the call from Orym, forcing the party to use Jiana. This brings them back to Jrusar, removes their early ties to Whitestone, forces the Delilah story into the forefront so it actually has to be dealt with, gives them a reason to get much more involved with both the Vanguard (via Jiana) and spend more time learning about the plot from Eshteross and the Starpoint Conservatory (particularly making it a great opportunity to learn about the Apex War), and even could have put them physically present during Otohan's confrontation with Eshteross. From there I genuinely think Delilah actually being a major problem that they had to deal with would have done a ton of work in terms of character development and dealing with their problems, and the party having much more information about the world around them and having a stronger connection to a place and its people would have done a MOUNTAIN of work for the rest of the campaign. It's even possible Eshteross could have survived with their assistance in a second Otohan fight, which would mean they would have had the airship the whole time as a home base (since they couldn't have crashed it), which would have given them downtime in the form of travel rather than being ferried around by Keyleth due to having no other options, and would have served as bonding time. Matt admitted in a 4SD he didn't expect them to call on Keyleth (which is WILD to me) but literally he should have said no. I don't know for sure if this is how he envisioned the early campaign going but I would not be surprised if it was.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Real-Life Prince

Requested Here! 🎃👻

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: You go to a Halloween party and meet Street, who happens to complete your costume. When the party goes wrong, you learn that his costume isn't what makes him a prince.

Warnings: hostage situation, fluff!

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

A/N: I have some backstory I didn't include. For the purposes of this fic, Street knows about The Little Mermaid because he lived with a foster sister who watched it. :)

A/N2 (while proofreading): Does this have no breaks in it or did I just miss them? I'm reading it as one real-time scene and that rarely happens.

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Trick or treat!” your friend calls as her neighbor Dominique Luca opens his door.

“You two must be the treats,” he jokes.

“Thanks for the invite and for letting me tag along,” you tell him as you enter his house.

“Least I could do for a princess like yourself, Ariel. There’s food, drinks, in the kitchen, help yourself to anything. And have fun!”

You salute and smile as you reply, “Yes, sir.”

“Alright, Ariel,” your friend says. She straightens the fake fork – dinglehopper – fastened in your hair and murmurs, “I see a certain superhero over there who might need a new sidekick.”

“See you later,” you reply, shaking your head as she crosses the room to talk to a man dressed as Spider-Man.

She waves over her shoulder, and you navigate the growing crowd to reach the kitchen. As you enter the kitchen, someone asks, “Get your voice back yet?”

You smile, a reply ready as you turn, but the words disappear when you see Prince Eric. You don’t recognize the man as any of your friend’s friends from the neighborhood, but there’s no denying he is attractive.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he jokes.

“Still getting used to land I guess,” you respond softly.

“Jim Street,” he introduces, lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles.

You say your name and move closer to him as three more people enter the kitchen. When you agreed to come to this party with your friend, you weren’t expecting to meet a prince, and as you look into Jim’s eyes, you think he might be a real-life prince, just like the ones in the movies.

“Do you live around here?” Jim inquires.

“No, my friend does,” you answer. “You?”

“I live here. Luca just refuses to put my name on invitations because he knows people would come just for me.”

You laugh, and Street watches you like he’s in the presence of royalty, and part of him begs for the chance to treat you like the princess he’s sure you are. Street decides his fate is sealed when you look into the living room and roll your eyes, capturing his attention with every move you make.

“See Spider-Man and Wonder Woman over there?” you ask him, gesturing with your chin.

It takes a moment, but Street pulls his eyes away from your face and locates the people in question. He nods, and you say, “That’s my friend. She lives around the corner and has a thing for superheroes.”

“You don’t?”

When you turn your chin, you’re surprised that Street’s focus is back on you. He watches you intently as you answer, “I guess I’ve always been looking for more of a prince, not his superpowers.”

“Those are hard to find,” he muses. He drops his gaze to your lips, and you fight not to smile.

“But not impossible.”

Someone rings the doorbell, and when Luca whoops a moment later, Street places his hand on your arm and asks you to excuse him for a moment. You nod and watch as he meets Luca and two other men at the front door. Three kids and their parents are at the door, and the kids hold up candy buckets as they say, “Trick or treat!”

“Ain’t that Kay?” someone mumbles behind you.

Looking over your shoulder, you see two men and a woman huddled in the corner of Luca’s kitchen. The shorter of the men is watching the door intently, and the woman is shaking her head and whispering quickly.

“What?” the other man asks. “You ain’t got a warrant, right?” When his friend shrugs, he rubs his chin and mutters, “Get out of here, man.”

“No.” Raising his chin, he says, “Kay isn’t taking me in again.”

“Don’t be stupid, George!” the woman hisses.

“Out of my way,” he demands as he steps around her. He pulls a gun from the back of his waistband and holds it at his side as the man you assume is Kay steps inside to speak to Luca, Street, and the men with them.

“C’mon, Deac, no costume?” Luca chides. “What are you teaching the kids?”

Deacon shakes his head, and his eyes catch on George. He looks away quickly and says something to Luca, who shrugs and glances toward the kitchen.

“What?” George demands.

“Nothing, George,” Luca calls. “Just some trick or treaters.”

The man standing by Luca dressed as a ninja mouths George’s full name, and you close your eyes briefly. If George wasn’t feeling threatened before, he is now.

“Car,” Deacon says over his shoulder. “Annie, go.”

Deacon closes the door while his wife leads his children away from the front porch. When he turns toward the kitchen, George shakes his head and raises the gun. Several people shriek, and George reaches out.

You grunt as you’re pulled against George’s chest, but when he raises the barrel of his gun to your temple, you bite your tongue and try to remain still and silent. Your eyes meet Street’s, and he holds your attention. He nods once, and you take it as a promise that he will get you out of this. However, he’s dressed as a prince and seems to fit the part, so you’re unsure what he plans to do.

“George, I’m Hondo,” one of Luca’s friends introduces, stepping forward with his fingers spread to show his hands are empty. “I’m LAPD, but listen, no one needs to get hurt and no one has to go to jail tonight. We’re just trying to enjoy the party like you, man.”

“Yeah, sure,” George replies. “I’m not falling for it.”

Your eyes are still on Street, and he examines your position against George, dragging his eyes slowly before he looks back to your face. You furrow your brows when he taps Deacon’s shoulder without breaking eye contact. Focusing on him keeps your mind off the gun aimed directly at your head, but you’re growing concerned that he’s going to get hurt in his attempt to save you. When Deacon, already identified as a police officer, nods at Street’s nonverbal communication, you realize that you chose the right Halloween party to get held at gunpoint.

George wraps his arm around your shoulders and shifts you to stand directly before him. He drops the gun to your chest, and you continue to watch Street. Luca says something to him, and Street’s shoulders drop. Whatever they decided on or what George just did must have been a good thing.

“It’s not worth it,” Hondo points out, and you realize he has been talking to George the entire time. With your focus on Street and the silence of the rest of the party, it was easy to tune him out, and you’re hoping that he either gets through to George or that someone does something soon.

“Then maybe I should show you it is,” George seethes, raising his arm to place pressure on your neck. You flinch, and George takes it as an invitation to rest the gun against your stomach and pull you uncomfortably tight against him.

Street moves forward, and your eyes widen as you watch him. He smiles before he disappears behind a partygoer. Your eyes bounce between the people across from you until George harshly pulls you back to reality by tightening his arm around your neck. Your chest tightens as your breath shortens, and just as you begin to panic, George’s arm is pulled away from your neck. You stumble to the side and right yourself as Street shoves George against the counter. The gun hits the floor as Street flips George so his ribcage is against the side of the island and pushes his arm up between his shoulder blades.

“Deacon?” he asks.

“Gladly,” Deacon agrees, stepping forward with handcuffs while Hondo makes a call.

Once Street has passed George to Deacon – with noticeable force stemming from his anger – he moves to your side. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around Street, and he gladly returns the hug as he whispers in your ear that you’ll be okay.

“I know,” you answer, smiling as you pull back to look at him. “You’re the only reason I didn’t freak out and get myself killed. Thank you.”

Street shrugs and replies, “It’s my princely duty.”

“Well…” Luca begins. “That was fun, but we’ve got more food and a party to keep going!”

People cheer before the music starts again, and the police car transporting George to the station pulls away from the curb. As the party resumes, almost as if nothing happened, your friend lifts her arms in question from across the room. You smile before you face Street, missing how she raises her eyebrows, impressed and happy for you.

“So, you’re a cop,” you muse.

“SWAT officer,” he corrects. “Savior, I’ve got a lot of titles.”

You hum and brush your hand over his shoulder before you ask, “Ever thought of getting a new one?”

Street smiles and places his hand on your waist. “Occasionally. More than once tonight.”

“Ladies, gentlemen, neighbors, zombies, friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!” Luca announces dramatically, pausing the music. “We’ve got a best costume prize to give away!”

“What’s the prize?” someone asks.

“It better be free food at the food truck for a week!” another adds.

Luca pauses before he murmurs, “Should’ve thought of that.” He returns to his previous dramatics to say, “A ride in SWAT’s APC, Black Betty!”

“I do that every day,” Street grumbles beside you.

“That’s cool,” you whisper to him. He smiles and wraps his arm around your waist, relaxing when you lean against him.

“The best costume is… Prince Eric and Ariel!” Luca yells.

Your friend leads the applause, followed shortly by Street’s SWAT team as they clap and yell. Walking hand-in-hand with Street, you move to the middle of the room and accept medals from Luca.

“Listen,” Street begins, causing Luca to roll his eyes. “I get to ride in Black Betty a lot, so how ‘bout you let me drive once?”

You raise your brows and look between them. After a moment, Luca sighs and answers, “Yeah, okay.”

Street raises his fist in victory, then circles his arms around your waist and spins you. Laughing, you hug him in the air and celebrate your victory as if there’s no one around. You’re not entirely sure if the real win is the best costume prize or meeting Jim Street, but despite the hostage situation, this is the best Halloween of your life.

“You wanna get out of here?” Street asks after the music is turned on once more.

“Uhm,” you murmur, rising to your tiptoes to find your friend. Tucked in a corner, she’s lip locked with Spider-Man, and you take Street’s hand. “I’d love to.”

Outside, the music fades as you follow Street to his motorcycle. He stops beside it, turning to face you with a smile.

“Thanks for saving me,” you tell him, standing only a breath apart. “I know, it’s your princely duty, but… you did more than get him away from me. I really appreciate it. I appreciated what you were doing before that.”

“Then maybe we should pick up there.”

You lean forward, placing your hands on Street’s chest as you kiss his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “What can I say?” you whisper, “I’d love to be part of your world.”

[tragedybunny]

hehehe~ perhaps a cute fic with reader and Astarion and he talks about all the parties he used to go to before he was turned- and he dances with you 😳

Anon - So this took on a life of it's own, it reminded me of some of my Tav's backstory, so I worked in some elements of it. I hope it's still good. 🥺

Rhythm Like a Heartbeat - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion and Reader share a dance that reveals more than they planned.

Wyll was teaching Karlach to dance, of all things you'd seen on this journey, this was somehow amongst the most surprising. The Blade and the "Devil" he should've slayed, moving together along with the melody from an enchanted music box someone had picked up along the way. The two of them seemed to be growing closer, and you couldn't be happier for them. You took a long drink from a pilfered wine bottle while you watched, you were all blowing off a little steam, which was well needed. Digging around for Kethric's weakness was a daunting task and the clock inside of all of you was still ticking. "Not rethinking your choices I hope." 

You'd been so lost in thought you hadn't heard Astarion come up behind you. Or he'd intentionally snuck up on you. When he wanted to go unheard or unseen, you usually didn't have a chance of not getting ambushed. Mostly he seemed to enjoy the little jump you made when surprised. Tonight you didn't disappoint, exuding a high-pitched noise along with jumping. "Astarion," you scold, "honestly! And no, of course not, just impressed by Wyll's form." 

"Really," he scoffed, not hiding his jealous streak very well at all, "he looks like a gangly teenage boy at his first gala. Clearly, you haven't had much experience in the ballroom." Part of you wanted to laugh a little, the insult was obviously ridiculous, but you knew his jealousy came from fear that he barely held on to you and could still lose you. Maybe sometime you should use the tadpole to show him just how impossible that would be. If only the thought of it didn’t fill you with revulsion. 

“I didn’t know you were such an expert, love,” you know he feels comfortable with the playful banter, and you hope it pulls him away from that place of insecurity. 

A sharp laugh answers you, “I’ll have you know I had plenty of experience, both in life and unlife.” You shoot him a look, he rarely speaks of life before Cazador, you’re not even sure how much he remembers of it. “What? I had an important job, I knew important people. Or are you just trying to get me to teach you?” An outstretched arm beckons you to join him. For a second you freeze, knowing you’re risking exposing everything you’ve held back. But hells, if you say no, he’ll take it the wrong way entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be a quick study.” 

Taking his arm, you let him lead you a distance from the tent, glad Wyll and Karlach are still the center of attention, and gracefully dip your knee as he bows. Gently, one hand takes yours, the other held properly tucked behind his back. The rhythm is an easy one, but you let him take the lead. Soft steps, elaborate turns around one another, your eyes locked with his. Gods, his eyes are breathtaking when he’s looking at you, when his guard is down, soft and shining with light. Tonight, they seem full of mirth, but you’ve seen them overflowing with his sorrow and tears as well. They’ve distracted you and you forget, he’s supposed to be teaching you, your form is too good. 

Step away, one spin, back to back, face each other, palms touching. Skin like ice presses against yours, heating up with the exertion and the emotions humming through your every nerve. One night he asked if it bothered you, lying next to the chill of the grave. You only hugged him tighter and told him not to be ridiculous because you couldn’t find the right words at the time to explain that it was part of who he was and you loved all of him, even the pieces that might not seem loveable. Thinking of it that way now though, you should tell him. 

Another turn, facing away from one another again, a chance to catch your breath. It’s madness how he still affects you, even after you’d confessed to one another, you’re still swooning nervously. He’s right when he calls you “silly girl” teasingly. The finale, one more elaborate twirl, you’re no longer even thinking of the dance, muscle memory taking over. His hand catches yours and you step close to him, closer than the propriety of a noble’s dance floor would’ve ever allowed. Cheekily, he leans forward, stealing a quick kiss. “It would seem you have more talents than you’ve let on.” 

“I…”, you really don’t want to lie to him. The silence stretches far too long. “It would seem so.” 

“Hmm,” you feel him studying you, and you realize his eyes are guarded again, his posture rigid. “So tell me one thing,” you nod, terrified you’re about to shatter that fragile bond you’ve built. Lies by omission are still lies. “Which noble house are you a runaway from?” His voice is cold and hard, the Astarion you met on the beach that fateful day. How fast he can change wounds you, just like that, he’s ready to be done with you. But it’s your fault, you know how years of horror have left him with walls he’s too quick to bring up. “Or do you want to keep lying to me?” 

You shake your head. “I wish I could say.” 

“And here I thought we really had something, but clearly,” he gestures wildly, unable to contain his rising temper. 

Stinging tears begin to prick your eyes. “No, no, I wish I could say,” you emphasize, praying he’ll understand. 

Suddenly, he stills, hand coming to your cheek, eyes wide. “Is this a warlock thing?” A thumb brushes away the tear that escaped and you hear agonized regret in his voice. “Oh darling, I’m sorry, don’t cry.” Arms pull you into his chest. “Please, I didn’t realize, it’s fine.” 

“I wanted to tell you,” you sniffle into his shirt.

“Hush love, you can tell me what you’re able to, when you’re ready. Although I must insist you consider us even for any prior deception of mine. Even ones you haven’t realized yet.” He laughs that awkward, nervous laugh that happens when he’s upset, but he’s trying so you let yourself giggle a bit. “There’s my girl. Now how about we dance again and no holding back? I need to know if I can actually keep up with you.” 

The music box is still playing but you’re no longer aware of anyone else in the camp. There’s only the two of you, softly and slowly moving together. Gone are the thoughts of the elaborate courtly show, you move by instinct, bodies responding to one another as you press close together. Then you still, let yourself be wrapped in his arms, your lips brushing the hollow of his throat. “I can at least tell you that you’re the best dance partner I’ve ever had.” 

“Never doubted it my sweet,” you feel him kiss the crown of your head before resting his cheek against it.

[arrowfortea]

i really think sera is simultaneously fantastic and also a missed opportunity. solas in DA:I took ~7 rewrites, which is understandable since he's set up for like, Big Things. but i think about that a lot when i'm ~*~musing~*~ on what sera could've been.

sera is far and away the only character by bioware i'm similar to as a person IRL, her voice actress is FANTASTIC, i almost always have her in my party bc i love her, (my url is a sera quote!!), and still!!! she feels SO FLAT TO ME!!! and i CAN'T PUT MY FINGER ON IT!!!! this is going to be a very Vibes Based critique and i might pull up quotes etc for a post in future but i just need to. get it Out

maybe it's a "woman written by a man" issue. she feel so close to being Real and Relatable and then swings wide, it's so weird. i do think a deep part of it stems from the writers/narrative going "yeah she can really get on your nerves lol!" — for the most blatant example of this, see: the fact she's the only party member with a constant "get out of the inquisition" button on her dialogue wheel. i also feel this in how hard-line her opinions are, while at the same time she argues them, for the most part, from a place of vibes (like moi Right Now lmao) or shuts down the other side.

it reminds me of da2 where fenris is given time to Discourse with hawke about mages in the gallows, and mage companions in attendance will interject with like "yeah but. locking people up is bad" which YES! IT IS!!! 100% I AM ON YOUR SIDE but the writing gives fenris way more time to Outline his Facts and Logic so the mage companions look like they're just shutting him down in bad-faith.

and there's no real arc for her! her personal quest is about red jenny stuff and maybe working with a guy for the inquisition but then Not. (there is a point to be made about vivienne's personal quest similarly being Lacking in many people's opinion, but as this isn't a post abt her i'm not going to Delve, but i would be remiss not to mention it) yes we HEAR about her backstory but. then that's doneskies.

the romance is just having a good time (unless you're an elf who drank from the well in which case she dumps you which.. i both do and don't take issue with? it makes sense for her as a static character, but i don't WANT her to be static) — again this is where i start to chafe at my own rationale because.. do i want there to be more drama/conflict? yes. do i trust the existing writers to make the lesbian couple's drama not something trite or offensive? mmmmmm. mmmmm.

she has so many interesting aspects but they all feel like they got tacked on and then chucked out the window! the clearest "hey.. what's this meant to be" is how she seems fade-sensitive in banter with solas. i know this is used as evidence for "does she have some andruil in her", which i'm onboard with, but INGAME i'm sad the fade sensitivity seems solely relegated to the solas banters. like? did they just run out of stuff for them to talk about? 💀

her existentialism makes me WANT TO GNAW MY KEYBOARD it's SO EXCITING to see a character touch on existentialism the way she does; "The Nothing" WAS INSANE to see on her tombstone the first time round when i was expecting something juvenile. i knew what it meant immediately and i think it's so interesting; i'm really glad we get a talk with her afterwards abt it. do i also wish this existentialism more clearly permeated her characterisation ahhehehwhehahhe Yes

as for the Elfy issue: i'm not from any of the minorities that the writing for elves draws coding from, so. grain, salt. i don't think "i don't want to be seen as An Elf(TM)", or being not big on the dalish, needed to be handled in such a blatant "this is internalised racism i cannot talk you out of" way. again, fenris in da2 is a dick about the dalish, but he does have a personal relationship with his identity as an elf which feels authentic.

i also hate how shafted city elves got in DA:I so sera being from an alienage (when she was very young) but then that being breezed past makes me. sad whatever I KNOW SHE DOESN'T EVEN REMEMBER IT IT DOESN'T NEED TO BE A THING I JUST WANTED CITY ELVES SOMEWHEREEEE

i do love her journal though. that is top tier and i love it and 5 stars and whoever thought of that is amazing (probably her writer. sigh. credit sadly is due where credit is due /j)

anyway i should probably compile this into a better argued and evidenced post i just !!!!!

[chaoticbardlady99]

Never Have I Ever… (Astarion x F! Reader) MDNI 18+

Synopsis: You accidentally befriended the Heroes of Baldur’s Gate at Elfsong a little less than a year after the Elderbrain attacked.

Six months later, on your birthday, you are playing a game of “Never Have I Ever” at Elfsong Tavern and a topic of conversation takes a very interesting turn… that leads directly into the bedroom with your roommate, Astarion.

CW: PIV, Oral, Smut, loss of virginity, other sex words I can’t think of, brief mentions of past trauma

Pic does not belong to me

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜 thank you for reading!!!

The warm laughter that fills the air is infectious as you take another welcome sip of the red wine Astarion insisted you try. You are so horribly in love with the man that he could probably convince you to enjoy poison if he really tried.

As a new introduction to the friend group, you didn’t expect to find a roommate a short 3 months after getting your job at Shadowheart’s Clinic. You had just moved to Baldur’s Gate- you apparently have horrible timing- but you were happy to help with healing the injured, checking in on the sick, and even helping people grieve their loved ones appropriately.

You weren’t originally living with anyone. In fact, you had been staying at Elfsong for an extended period of time. Around month 3, you had been playing a late set (Being a cleric and Bard for Oghma is a big job) and you hadn’t noticed the man following you back to your room. Thankfully, Astarion had promised to go see your set and had noticed the intruder after you had said good night.

It was safe to say you were shaken and Astarion immediately told you that you A. Did not have a choice and would be taking his second bedroom and B. Need to be significantly more aware. You agreed to both.

He tries desperately hard to return your rent money to you- insisting that he is more than well off enough. You just stare at him silently until he feels so uncomfortable he takes it. You refuse to live in his very nice townhome for free- especially since you know his backstory.

Astarion has his first place, all to himself, and he has allowed you to intrude upon that space because you very nearly died or worse one night. He swear it isn’t an intrusion, but you always worry- it’s one of the few things you are very good at.

Paying rent also prevents you from becoming unrealistic in your expectations of your relationship with him.

It is just a friendship, roomie situation- nothing more, nothing less. You crave more, obviously, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted out of a partner- even the grumbly, more closed off pieces. You’ve stayed up with him through his nightmares and you’ve fallen asleep in each other’s arms more than a few times, but that was just comfort for him.

Right?

“Never have I ever…,” Wyll trails off, obviously very drunk as he leans on his fiancée, Karlach, for support, “had sex!”

The rest of the group groans about how unfair that is, but you aren’t necessarily sure what to do.

You’re a virgin and it’s something you’ve kept pretty close to the chest up until this point. You might as well keep the party rolling.

You barely drink- just enough to pretend- and no one seems the wiser.

Oh, but you are just a silly little drunk fool because of course Astarion notices. You are practically all he seems to notice anymore- or at least that’s what it feels like.

Everything about you pulls him in and he craves you.

Gods does he crave you.

He has to bite back the possessive growl that threatens to tear through his throat as he watches the alcohol not even touch your lips- the sleight of hand may have tricked their companions, but not him.

He adores you and at first it mortified him- now it just consumes him. Astarion loves spending every second he can with you- whether that be reading, cuddling, talking, etc. Maybe another activity could be added to the addendum…

His fangs nip his bottom lip as he tries to snap himself back into reality and not be stuck in the idea of what you would sound like underneath him. It’s especially hard to ignore the fact that he would be the only one who knows what pleasure looks like on your face and in your voice- how your body responds to being teased and worshipped.

“Star! You’re bleeding!”

Shit. I must have bit my lip too hard.

You take your clean napkin and begin to dab away the blood on his lip. The moment your other hand touches his cheek to keep him steady- he feels like he’s melting.

“All better,” you say with a beaming smile.

“Thank you, Darling. I have no idea what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know what he’d do without you,” Tav drunkenly chimes in, Gale facepalms at his wife’s antics, “gosh darn’t- stop spilling your own blood! Worst vampy ever!”

The collective HUSH around the table makes Astarion laugh and Tav looks at him sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“Oh it is more than fine, my very drunk friend,” Astarion teases, “if anything, I think you need more wine.”

Gale groans, “please don’t encourage her.”

Astarion’s spirit became more and more restless the longer the night out continued. This wasn’t his ideal plan for the night, but he had chickened out at the last minute.

He had initially wanted to take you out on a date- today is your birthday and you didn’t want the whole group to know since you don’t love the attention, but Astarion has taken advantage of the opportunity.

He had already given you the flowers he had “just happened” to find earlier that day and you had been over the moon.

Astarion had also ‘purchased’ a gold bracelet for you- the delicate metal was simple with a single malachite heart charm on it. He learned very, very quickly that you believe in all that ‘crystal nonsense’ as Lae’zel puts it. Astarion’s heart glows a little bit when he catches it reflecting candle light off your wrist. You loved the bracelet equally as much and kissed him on the cheek.

While he isn’t necessarily sure he believes in that crystal nonsense, Astarion does believe in you so the Rhodochrosite bracelet you had bought him shortly after you moved in is almost always on his wrist. You explained that it was meant to heal trauma- he later learned that it more specifically helped with sexual trauma. You never elaborated on it or pestered, but the gesture in itself made him feel accepted and safe.

The first night he opened up to you had also been the first time it hit him that he genuinely has feelings for you. Those feelings have grown naturally and Astarion rarely feels the need to put a mask up when he’s around you anymore. Astarion is as ‘messy’ as he wants because you’d already seen through him and you have continued to hold space for him- grounding him in your atmosphere.

You want him too- of course. Whether you have realized that or not yet- Astarion isn’t sure.

You occasionally let him feed from you (if you don’t have to pull an all-nighter for a Tavern gig) and he can taste your desire in your blood. The shyness and lack of advances on your end make more sense now- you are entirely inexperienced.

It’s absolutely delicious and now Astarion is really kicking himself for not asking if you could both skip meeting with your mutual companions to go out together.

Astarion wanted to ask to take you to dinner. He wasn’t quite sure why that was his first thought considering he can’t eat, but he figured he could drink wine while the two of you talked. His next plan of action was to offer his hand to you as you walked home together, maybe read together for a bit, and then he was hoping that you could be, well, intimate with each other. He genuinely wants to be with you that way and he hopes the feeling is mutual, but that you don’t only see him as a sex object.

Astarion breathes a sigh of relief when the group finally decides to leave the tavern. It may not be the night he envisioned, but it’s quickly amended by the walk home. His idle fingers take up the space between yours and you don’t fight the invasion- instead you smile coyly and a Rosie blush paints your cheeks. He wonders what it would feel like to have your hands entangled in his hair as he-

“Astarion?”

His train of thought is interrupted by his name leaving your lips- your brows furrowed in concern.

“Are you okay? I’ve been asking you if you want to continue to read that book together when we get home, but you seem kind of out of it.”

“Oh!” he manages to choke out, “I- of course, Darling- I would love to continue our book. I apologize, I didn’t realize how lost in thought I had become.”

You open the door of the apartment, a look of concern still adorning your face. You are so adorable and wonderful- he wants to kiss the worry off of your face.

You are discarding your shoes at the door while Astarion goes to locate the bottle of wine he had purchased earlier that day. Reading is fun and all, but Astarion has another idea.

Why not use a childish game to move your relationship forward? It’s not like Astarion has ever claimed to be above that and he could easily pass the idea off as wanting to continue having fun.

“That’s not a book,” you tease, eyeballing the bottle of wine suspiciously, “are you attempting to put me in a stupor and on my birthday nonetheless?”

“Darling,” he says with a gasp, his hand splayed across his chest, “how dare you accuse me of such a thing? I’m positively hurt.”

You merely roll your eyes at him, but happily accept the glass he pours you. As you go to sip- he puts his hand over the top of the glass.

“I was thinking we could continue that debaucherous little game we were all playing earlier,” Astarion says with feigned innocence, “what was it called again? Ever have I? Never have I?”

“Never have I ever?”

Astarion tries not to smile too widely at the way your eyes slightly widen at his words and his enthusiastic nod. He wonders if you realize you’ve been caught.

“Yes! Thank you, Darling- that would have driven me to the brink of insanity,” he says with a chuckle, “in the spirit of good fun, you may go first.”

You give him an unamused look before giving in.

“Never have I ever….. been a VAMPIRE!”

“You wretched little-!”

Astarion scowls, pretending to be irritated as he sips his wine. He narrows his eyes at you and feels his chest bloom with feelings of affection as the mischievous glint in your eye grows brighter.

“Never have I ever… lit a bookshelf on fire.”

Your cheeks burn brightly as you leer at him over the top of your glass. The questions continue to be absurd and personal- questions that the others wouldn’t even begin to think about asking.

Never have I ever read this trashy novel, never have I ever been personally victimized by my roommate buying a ‘stay out’ sign, so on and so forth until Astarion finally feels comfortable enough to use the one ‘never have I ever’ that he’s been sitting on since you both arrived at home.

“Never have I ever lied about having sex.”

The look on your face is priceless. Astarion can’t help but let the thrilled little giggle leave his lips as you stammer over your words.

“Uh- I- hmmmmmmmmm,” you gulp the remaining morsels of wine, “how did you… was it that obvious?”

It’s moments like these where he forgets tact and says the first stupid thing that comes to his brain.

“No, I just made a point of watching.”

Shit.

Your lips purse as a look of satisfaction crosses your face. You wiggle your eyebrows at him before pouring yourself a bit more wine.

“Oh is that so?” you tease, “and why ever would you feel the need to do that?”

Cheeky pup.

“Hmmmm,” he hums, sliding closer to you on the couch, “you could say it may align with an interest of mine?”

The words you are about to say die on your tongue when his fingers begin to trail up under your dress- his eyes find yours in an attempt to ask a silent question.

Your eyes are blown wide with lust, need, and adoration. Your body naturally relaxes under his touch and he can already smell the scent of your budding arousal.

“Wh- what kind of interest?” You whisper, looking at him earnestly.

“Well,” Astarion moves until he’s hovering over you on the couch, he begins leaving a trail of sweet kisses along your jaw, “a tactful, brilliant individual such as myself needed to know for research as you are a subject I have yet to study.”

“And if you were?” you stammer, “given the opportunity, I mean?”

Astarion’s route along your jaw stops abruptly as he looks at you- the nervousness in your voice causing him to doubt his assessment of the situation. He’s surprised to see a hopefulness in your gaze- maybe you do just want sex? Maybe that’s all you want from this at all?

Astarion tries to suppress the disappointment that threatens to pull angry words out of his mouth. If this is what he is to you then he supposes he can live with that.

“Naturally we’d be having sex already, my Dear.”

You are searching his face and your lips are pursed in a thin line.

“I haven’t been… intimate with anyone because I want it to be with someone I really care about,” you say softly, “and I really care about you, Astarion. That’s why I want to make sure that this is what you want- that you care about me in this way too.”

Astarion isn’t really sure what to do with that information. He’s sure the blank stare on his face isn’t helping the situation or your nervousness.

A choked sob gets stuck in his throat- you care for him and you are willing to have sex with him because you care for him. It’s not just because you think he’s ‘pretty’ or fell for all his honeyed words.

“This is what I want, Darling,” he returns your words with equal softness, “I want to be with you in every intimate way imaginable.”

A shock overwhelms his body when you sit up and hesitantly press your lips to his, but he rebounds even faster the moment you start to pull away.

Your lips are soft and warm against his. They are even more wonderful than he could ever imagine. Astarion grinds himself into you- noting how perfectly you fit together with him between your legs. The shakey moan and clash of teeth causes him to smile.

Instead of taking control of the situation, he allows you to guide him. Your inexperienced mouth is clumsy with it’s affections as you learn how to intertwine yourself with him.

The touch and act is affectionate and unhurried, curious and innocent. Astarion feels like a giddy virgin himself as he begins to explore the skin hiding underneath your flimsy dress.

Your arousal is already coating the inside of your thighs, your underwear soaked through, and Astarion nearly loses his composure entirely. He wants to let you take this at your pace, but Gods above that is not going to be an easy feat.

His curious hands find purchase on your hips and at the hem of your underwear- his thumbs dipping underneath the fabric to tease you ever so slightly.

It feels like electricity courses through both of you with each moment of skin contact. You’ve laid next to each other, you’ve fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and overall, you’ve developed a friendship with each other.

You feel made for him and he feels made for you.

You have never felt more confident in a decision in your entire life. Your body sparks to life under his touch and you try to push aside the embarrassment you feel with every whimper and moan that leaves your lips.

You want- no need- more. You want to know him and you want him to know you.

You boldly allow your hands to meet his and you begin to discard your already soaked underclothes- Astarion growls against your neck at the action. His hands grab yours- pinning them above your head and you whine in protest.

“Someone’s eager,” he teases, “are you tired of feeling empty, Little Love? Would you like me to ruin you for anyone else?”

You clench around nothing and shake your head ‘yes desperately in response. Astarion clicks his tongue and smiles devilishly.

“That’s not an answer, Darling.”

“Please.”

He lifts an eyebrow expectantly and you huff in frustration- looking away from him. One of his hands guides your eyes back to his and his thumb gently glides along your lower lip, coaxing a needy whimper from you.

You feel so embarrassed- trying to express what you need, but maybe he finds it enduring? Or at least you hope he does.

“Will you please make love to me, Astarion?”

Astarion’s face looks like the definition of happiness as he smiles down upon you- for a creature of the night, he sure is capable of beaming like the sun.

The offending article of clothing is removed and tossed somewhere across the living room as Astarion settles his face in between your legs.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” he says teasingly while nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He takes his sweet time kissing and cleaning up the nectar that coats your legs, your growing need making you more and more impatient as you writhe under his touch. Astarion makes a point of avoiding your wanting heat- tears pricking your eyes as you become more and more overstimulated.

“You are so, so beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, “so beautiful and good.”

“Astarion, please.”

The desperation in your voice pulls a hum of pleasure from Astarion as he presses one more kiss on the inside of your thigh. You open your mouth to beg again- to ask for literally any contact- when you feel his cold tongue lick all the way up your folds, circling your sensitive clit, before latching his lips to the bundle of nerves.

You keen- loudly- at the sudden attention on your clit and Astarion has seemed to quickly find that perfect spot- teasing it with his tongue as your back arches and your hips press into his face.

Astarion’s fingers push your hips down, locking you in place against the couch, and you feel another shudder of arousal go through you when you think about the bruises that are bound to be on your hips in the morning.

Astarion’s expert tongue circles and teases at your clit- occasionally taking a detour to taste you, lapping up every part of your essence.

He feels like he’s starving as he devours you with his tongue- if he could have it his way, he would never stop.

You are so wet for him that the couch underneath you is soaked and your dress surely isn’t much better off. Your moans and whimpers cause his cock to strain painfully against the front of his pants.

He decides to kiss back up your body, ripping open the lacy fabric of your dress. The Gods must be real because it’s a damn miracle that you aren’t wearing a bra.

Thankfully you don’t seem to be too worried about the state of your dress.

Astarion greedily sucks one of your nipples between his teeth while the other is rolled between his thumb and index finger.

He wants to consume you and you want to be consumed.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair and you have his mouth on yours within seconds. His other hand returns to your now neglected breast. You cry out against his mouth with each pinch of his fingers and your pleasure has begun to soak through the front of his own pants. He’s certain he’s created his own mess anyway.

Admittedly, he’s been thinking about playing with your breasts all week. You loudly complained about how sore they felt since your moon blood was coming next week. Astarion has been thinking about every delicious way to massage the soreness away since.

His hips grind into your exposed cunt- snaking one of his hands inbetween the two of you, he begrudgingly replaces the pressure of his clothed cock by sliding a finger inside of you.

He adores how your back arches underneath him and the way his name falls off your lips like a prayer. Your heels are digging into his back and your head is thrown back as you keen with each movement of his finger. Astarion curls his fingers upward and focuses on the perfect spot- your toes curl with the sensation and your moans become higher in pitch.

The second one meets some resistance and he’s almost positive a third finger is going to be needed before you are ready, but you clench around his hips, grabbing his attention.

“Astarion- I need you inside me please,” you beg him.

Whatever resolve he had to make sure you were 100 percent ready has broken with that simple sentence. He’s pulling you up off the couch and into his arms- practically racing to throw you on the bed in his room.

To be entirely honest- Astarion can’t even remember if he was actually wearing any clothes considering how quickly he pulls them off.

Astarion has you laid across his bed- ready and wanting for him. You are positively exquisite.

Your shy eyes and body try to hide from him- your arms coming to cover your breasts and your eyes looking away from him. You are suddenly very aware of the lack of clothing and Astarion- well- he looks like an angel.

You drink in his silhouette while avoiding his eyes and you feel yourself clench around nothing at the sight of his cock- hard and dripping with precum because of you. You. The silly, awkward virgin that has never been in a relationship before.

Eager hands are entangling themselves with yours and Astarion’s suddenly on top of you again with your arms pinned away from your face.

“Look at me.”

The command sends a wave of desire through you- Astarion’s voice is thick with arousal and you forget to breathe when you finally look at him.

Astarion has been all sharp edges and mischief since you’ve met him, but right now?

His eyes are soft and inviting- akin to warm crimson bed sheets rather than blood weeping from a cut. Astarion’s lips are slightly parted as he tries to commit your face to memory. His usually perfect hair is mussed up from all the attention you’ve given it.

“I am certain the Gods have sent you to destroy me,” he murmurs in awe before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “tell me if I need to be more gentle, my Love.”

Astarion lines himself up with your entrance and you wrap your legs around his waist. He gently pushes himself inside of you, giving a little bit more every time until his hips are flush against yours. The further he goes, the more his train of thought disappears.

You feel wonderful and the whimpers that leave your mouth with every inch more he gives you makes him moan loudly into the crook of your neck. He kisses up and along your jaw, praising you for taking him so well.

You have never felt more full in your entire life- it feels… right. Like your body has been made to fit with Astarion’s. The light rocking movement of his hips works to ease the initial discomfort of adjusting to his size, but you already feel like you need more. You want to be lost in this moment with him- you want to know and feel everything.

It’s as if he reads your mind as he pace begins to pick up, his thrusts begin to get longer and more drawn out. The tears that were initially pricking your eyes have disappeared entirely in favor of desperate, borderline embarrassing, wanting moans.

“You feel so incredible, Darling,” Astarion whines as thrusts into you, “you are being so good for me.”

His eyes meet yours and he slows his motions ever so slightly- your body protests at the loss of friction, but Astarion’s lips gently coaxing gasps from yours distracts your body from the lack of motion.

The world surrounding you feels absolutely nonexistent as Astarion kisses you deeply. One of his hands finds purchase in your hair and deepens the kiss even more. You feel as if you could float away from the onslaught of affection as you return his affections with equal fervor.

Astarion pulls himself almost entirely out of you before snapping his hips- rutting himself back into you. Your lips leave his, favoring a shape fit for a breathy cry of pleasure.

He finds your eyes again in the haze of his own euphoria. This is a dream to him- a wonderful, beautiful dream.

“I adore you,” you whisper against his lips.

Astarion smiles giddily.

“And I, you.”

Astarion loses his composure as he picks up his pace again- you clench around him, your already tight heat engulfing him even more with each movement of his hips. Your orgasm runs through you- your legs are shaking around him as your grip around his hips begins to give.

Astarion supports the lower half of your body, groping your ass as he chases his own little death.

“I need you to cum inside me, Astarion,” you say wistfully, “cum for me please.”

That’s all it takes to drive him over the edge entirely- no longer able to hold on anymore as his seed pours inside of you. Astarion buries his face in the crook of your neck as he let’s the feeling of pleasure wash over him.

You smell of sex and your favorite soap, which has coincidentally become his favorite soap, and he sighs happily when you start lazily tracing circles along his shoulders. You’ve done this for him before, in a more clothed setting, but it’s a thousand times better when he’s able to feel all of you against him.

Astarion can’t remember the last time he had sex with someone and felt like he was comfortable in their arms. Honestly, he’s more than comfortable with you and yes, that does terrify him.

He just had the best sexual experience of his life and yet he is still terrified because he doesn’t want you to leave or decide this is all he’s good for.

“Starry?”

He hums in response.

“Are you okay?” you ask in a whisper, “you got really tense just now.”

Astarion is quick to look at you when you ask that question. Your eyes are curious and your brow is furrowed. He really can’t hide anything from you. Astarion rolls over onto his back- not wanting you to see how scared and already heartbroken he is. He honestly isn’t sure what he would do if he stopped meaning anything to you- anything of value anyway.

“I… I don’t want…,” he struggles to get the words out, “I- this has been probably the single best sexual escapade that I have ever had, my Love. My only hope is that… you don’t only see me for, well, sex after tonight.”

He’s surprised when you crawl over to him, straddle him, and then put his face between your hands. The serious look in your eyes worries him- did he upset you? Offend you? Are you going to-

“I want you to throw that thought away right now and if you can’t- then I will assure you everyday before it goes away,” you say firmly, “I’ve fallen for you- all of you- over these several months. I think you are the smartest, most interesting, and funniest man I have ever met. I look forward to coming home to you and I hate leaving in the mornings.

“I… you are all I have ever wanted out of a partner or even just a person, Astarion. I choose you- I choose you everyday- in whatever way you’ll have me.”

All Astarion does is cry in response. He doesn’t mean to and of course he wishes he would stop.

I’ve known you for 200 years. Haven’t I suffered enough?

I choose you- I choose you everyday.

You hold him while he cries and Astarion lets himself soak up the feeling of safety- truly believing it this time. You want him for him and you will never know how much that means, but Astarion always will.

When he’s done crying, he kisses you gently sitting you both up against the headboard with you still on his lap. Astarion runs circles into your thighs as you lay your head on his chest and his head rests against yours. You remain there together for a while before you finally break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it Star?”

Astarion thinks for a moment.

“I- no,” he says hesitantly, “not right now- I just want to enjoy this moment with you, my Dear.”

You hum in response and then look around the room. Your eyes spot something that causes you to sport the cheekiest grin Astarion has ever seen.

“You didn’t finish your wine.”

He looks over and then back to you with an eyebrow raised.

“I suppose I did not. Why-“

“Never have I ever had sex with someone on their birthday.”

A pregnant pause envelopes the space between you- Astarion blinks at you a few times in astonishment and then reaches for the wine glass- a loving smile on his face.

He’s grateful- you never push him and you don’t force him to continue talking about difficult subjects once he’s calmed down. Perhaps he’s even more grateful that he may be able to spend a lifetime with you, if he plays his cards right. Gods, he hopes he plays his cards right. Astarion is not much of a planner after all.

“You’re lucky I adore you.”

“I know.”

[pccyouthleader]

A little one-shot in honor of Aurora’s birthday!

@e-vay @evayart

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Birthday Escape

Aurora was putting the finishing touches on her evening attire when the doorbell rang. She looked at the deep purple jogging suit and comfortable sneakers in the mirror and tilted her head. It wasn’t exactly what she had expected to wear when Shadow asked to take her out for her birthday. But she knew he had a reason for the suggestion.

“Tiny?” called Sonic from downstairs. “The Faker- I mean - Shadow’s here!”

She rolled her eyes and laughed to herself. Her dad couldn’t help but get a dig in whenever he could. Aurora grabbed her shoulder bag and headed for the stairs.

After kissing her parents goodbye and promising to be back by midnight, she slipped out the front door. She was anxious to learn what Shadow had planned for the evening. He stood leaning against the porch rail with his arms crossed.

Aurora’s heart did a little flip-flop as her eyes took in his perfect smile, his long, lean form, and the alluring look he reserved for only her.

“Happy birthday, Light,” he said in a low voice that always sent tingles up her spine. “Are you ready to go?”

“I am - but can you tell me the reason for the comfortable dress code?” she asked with a grin.

“You’ll see,” Shadow responded, leading her to his motorcycle and helping her on behind him. After donning her helmet, they set off in the direction of town. It was nearing 4 o’clock and the sun was just beginning to sink in the sky.

In town, Shadow pulled his motorcycle into a parking lot next to a nondescript building with a glowing neon sign.

“An escape room?!!!” Aurora squealed, bounding from the bike. “Shadow, I can’t wait!” No wonder he had suggested the comfy clothing!

“I thought it might be something you’d like to try,” he said, pulling her helmet off as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

Once inside, they approached a tall desk with a bored-looking teenager seated behind it.

“What theme would you like?” Shadow asked Aurora as they studied the information board. Her eyes settled on a title written in old-fashioned letters. “Let’s do ‘Mystery in the Haunted Mansion!” Aurora suggested.

The teenager piped up. “I’m sorry - that one is reserved for parties of four or more people.”

Shadow glared at him, then walked up to the desk. After reaching in his jacket pocket, he slid something across to him. “You were saying?”

“Um… I was saying, ‘Right this way!’” The teenager scrambled off his stool and started down a dark corridor with doors on either side. Shadow and Aurora fell into line behind him.

“What gave you the idea for an escape room?” Aurora whispered to Shadow.

He gave a sly smile. “It’s a great way to hone your sleuthing skills.”

“I’ll always be the Nancy Drew to your Sherlock Holmes,” she said, slipping her hand in his.

Shadow looked at her quizzically. “I don’t know what that means.”

Aurora gave a soft laugh as she remembered the stack of detective novels Eggman had secretly given her each birthday since she was able to read. She still wondered where in the world he had gotten them.

The teen stopped at a door at the end of the hallway and began going over the rules of the game in a dull voice. “Once you enter the code and press the button at the end, the game will be over and the door will unlock,” he said. “You have an hour to complete all the tasks and win the game.”

“Let’s do it!” said Aurora, itching to get started. She and Shadow walked into the room, and the door closed behind them with a thud. The second the door lock clicked into place, the lights dimmed and a message appeared on a screen with the backstory.

The game commenced, and together Shadow and Aurora found clues, solved riddles, and examined evidence until they were certain they had solved the case.

“The only thing we have left to do is enter this code and we will have won!” Aurora said, thinking it was the quickest hour she had ever experienced.

“Wait a minute…” said Shadow, looking at the clock counting down near the door. “We solved all the clues in 15 minutes!”

“But how?” Aurora asked incredulously.

“Well, when you play with the Ultimate Lifeform…” began Shadow, stifling a laugh. Aurora shot him an amused glance.

“So that means we have 45 minutes left…” she said.

“Locked away in a small room…” Shadow added.

“All by ourselves…”

They looked into each other’s eyes, drinking in the realization.

“Wanna make out?” Shadow said with a smirk.

Aurora gave him an amorous look. “I thought you’d never ask…”

[jasper-unofficial]

Oh me too, he is one of my favorite characters ever 🥰 alright, so, why do you think he agreed to the deal?? Obviously he couldn't pay all that money but i feel like he didn't have to agree with all that? And also, what do you think he wanted to say at the end of ep 11 before he said he wants another drink, do you think he was going to confess his feelings first? That's it (for now 😅)

ohhhh fun questions! thanks for asking 😌🫶

so, in terms of agreeing to the deal, i think there were a lot of things at play there. for one, we know peem is a people pleaser. so he isn't very likely to end up saying "fuck off" to a stranger in a situation like that. if he was a different person, he could probably go "oh, things weren't that serious, none of this is legally binding, i don't own you shit, goodbye", but that's just not how peem operates.

i mean, he freaks out about what he did right after it happens, even though i'd say his response was both understandable and not that big of a deal. but he is shocked at himself and (in part due to the fact that he clearly doesn't usually confront strangers like that) feels like it was a pretty serious incident and is worried about what phum might do in retaliation.

we also know that phum has a vaguely unpleasant reputation at uni, so everyone expects something really nasty from him. in comparison, the deal seems like a better way out. peem doesn't have to pay all that money, he's not getting beaten up or threatened - he just needs to do some minor tasks for phum for like a couple of weeks tops. that's as big of a win as peem could hope for, outside of phum forgiving and forgetting, which peem does try to persuade him into but ultimately does not succeed, leaving him with no choice but to agree to the slave deal.

now, as for the ep 11 ending, i am as sure as i can be that peem was going to confess. there are a lot of things at play there, which the past episodes, the present moment, and the future episodes hint at.

when it comes to why he wants to confess, there are many moments that lead up to it. we already got him admitting his feelings for phum to himself and then the scene right before the party is literally him pretty much confessing that he is in love with phum to someone else (as part of his rejection of kluen 🤮). he was also terrified of cancelling the slave deal because he still sees it as a guarantee of spending more time with phum but he is well aware that his time is running out, especially now that phum has seen the painting. and he found out phum's backstory, so he understands him even better than he did before as well;

conversely, when it comes to why he doesn't do it, in the future episodes, specifically prior to the boys getting together, we see that peem is painfully insecure and unsure whether phum actually truly likes him or not;

finally, when it comes to the party itself and why it almost happens in that particular moment, we have a fairly romantic atmosphere, with q and toey being sweet, tan and fang being glued together as usual, even chain sort of hinting at the fact that he doesn't mind if someone thinks he and pun are dating, and phum just staring at peem, reminding him that there is something very romantic hanging above their heads as well.

so peem seems to get swept up in that moment, but then chickens out because he is in front of all his friends, and he suddenly realises that none of them even know what's been going on between him and phum, and all those insecurities come crashing down on him, so he doesn't go through with it.

i am also fairly certain the reason why phum confesses in that particular moment is in huge part because he realises peem was going to. in fact, while there are other reasons why he ultimately decides to go through with it, the catalyst for him thinking of doing it in that moment in the first place relies entirely on the fact that peem was going to do it.

this is very reflective of how they always naturally pick up on each other's feelings. and phum immediately going "don't worry about not being able to do it right now, i won't let this turn into a moment of regret, i will do it for you" is really beautiful and exactly what i'd expect from him and them.

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 62

It's the boy and he's making us a delicious meal story.

Throughout this chapter, we're given Mithrun's backstory as a Dungeon Lord. However, the story we're told is actually Kabru's retelling because when Mithrun said he'd tell Kabru everything, he meant he'd tell Kabru EVERYTHING.

The chapter alternates between Mithrun's time as a dungeon lord and his and Kabru's journey through the dungeon. Each time we go back to Mithrun as a dungeon lord, it's actually Kabru putting the story together in a comprehensible way.

Kabru's adoptive mother is in the group. Her name is Milsiril. There weren't any good shots of her uncovered arms this chapter so I can't say whether any of those scars were from before this incident.

I take it that elves are generally prone to using unnecessarily complex methods to achieve certain end goals. Mithrun told Kabru that he'll need a sleep spell or a potion to be put to sleep, and he said being bundled up cozy and given a foot massage would never work, right before falling asleep.

It's exactly the same vibe as the mandrake harvesting thing only with fewer dead dogs.

All of this happened before the shapeshifter encounter? The shpaeshifter Kabru and Mithrun encountered probably was the same one then.

Kabru and Mithrun are both serious characters and whenever the story focuses on them, it tries to take things seriously. But with this one single panel, it's clear this is going to be an exception.

There's a light inconsistency with timing. Kabru said it will take a week until they're rescued but the day ends saying "Four days left until rescue." I just can't tell if there's an error with what Kabru said or if that message is not supposed to be tied to the end of this specific day.

The next page opens with "Day three after the fall" and Laios's group had fought the ice golem that day. So if it's already been two days since Kabru and Mithrun fell, then that would mean chapters 39-42 were all in a single day and there was a roughly two day period of Laios's team either finding the way to floor 6 or travelling through the floor before encountering the shapeshifter.

On Kabru's end, the only known moment of time passing was when Kabru fell asleep for five hours last chapter. Meanwhile, team Laios would have had to take some time to make Marcille and Senshi's snow shoes.

I'm going to guess that it takes roughly two days travel to get to the cave system in the sixth floor. Kabru and Mithrun encountered the shapeshifter near the start of the path to the caves while Laios's team encountered it near the end of the path.

Mithrun is probably wearing Shuro's jacket. It at least matches the color of the jacket we saw Shuro wearing in chapter 32.

The inciting incident to Mithrun becoming a dungeon lord was seeing his brother with the girl he liked through a magic mirror. But then we cut to Kabru thinking about how that's a good plot hook.

I think he either super dumbed down what was in the mirror, or may have straight up lied about what really set Mithrun off. Like, his brother living this happy life with Mithrun's beloved is part of it, but that note where Mithrun joined the Canaries in his brother's place tells me that the mirror is actually showing him how wonderful his brother's life is and how this could have been Mithrun's life instead.

Makes sense that the barometz fruit doesn't have the same organ structure as a real sheep. It's just trying to mimic the sheep to attract predators. The bones are probably just stems to help keep the shape.

Kabru and Mithrun stole the hippogriff's eggs and accidentally turned it into a griffin. Maybe it attacked Laios's party because it thought they were the egg thieves.

Maybe Mithrun's poor directional skill is because he got so used to the layout of his own dungeon that he's forgotten how Euclidean geometry works. It might make sense to assume that a stairway up is actually the way down and to go forward, you need to go back.

Several of these characters were named in the start of the chapter. The two row are Nils and Sita. The middle one in the bottom row is Coyote. I can't tell who the other two are, but I want to say the one on the lower right is Yugin.

Sita is a guard while the rest are criminals.

Mithrun's "beloved" was definitely an illusion of some kind. The goat's power only extends to the dungeon so it couldn't have brought her into it.

She may have been a lamia from the start since we can see a snake body in the corner of the very next panel.

Her color pattern indicates she's a king snake lamia. I talked about them in chapter 10. She's harmless, or at least as harmless as a lamia can be.

The scene where the goat ate Mithrun's desires is unsettling. The goat holds him down and violates his body. And it gouged out Mithrun's eye in the process.

And when the goat was done with Mithrun, it left nothing behind of his wish. He's left lying in front of the magic mirror he destroyed.

This comes right after the Winged Lion showed Laios his ideal world where people and monsters live together in harmony. The magic mirror was probably placed to tempt anyone who explored the dungeon and Mithrun took the bait. And the vision Laios saw in chapter 60 is just the Winged Lion baiting him into becoming a dungeon lord so it can eventually eat him too. And it will probably eat all of Laios's companions first just like the goat ate Mithrun's.

So now we have to deal with the dramatic irony that Laios's party is relying on an even greater threat to stop Thistle.

The elf with Milsiril was also named in the opening part. Her name is Helki.

Did Kabru make a tart?

So the reason ancient magic is forbidden is because it opens the path for demons from another dimension to come in. Demons feed on human desires and grow stronger as they feed. Demons are trapped in dungeons to prevent them from reaching the surface and they lure people into the dungeons. People with particularly strong desires are made dungeon lords to cultivate those desires to be even stronger.

And the Utaya incident was the result of a demon getting strong enough to break out of its dungeon.

The last two-page spread was what the lion promised, and this one is what would actually happen.

The demon in the image has a few characteristics matching the Winged Lion such as a mane, wings, and similar horns to some statues of it.

The first two-page spread was the world the lion promised Laios and the second is what would really happen as it destroys the Golden Kingdom. I can't tell if the person it's about to eat is anyone specific but it would be appropriate if it were Laios.

Even if knowing the truth wouldn't stop people from trying to use ancient magic, being forward about the danger and reason would at least stop some of them and let them understand why anyone trying to use ancient magic should be stopped or deterred. Like, Marcille is studying ancient magic BECAUSE she doesn't know why it's outlawed with no reason given.

The diagram used when explaining the quality of desires is literally an upside-down diagram of Maslow's hierachy of needs.

Kabru has realized he made a grave mistake entrusting Laios to the dungeon.

So Kabru and Mithrun were the ones who made that campfire from chapter 50.

The changelings have decided that Mithrun is super buff by elf standards.

If Pattadol is the Marcille of the Canaries, then Lycion must be the Senshi.

Remember how there was a panel in chapter 50 of Shuro freaking out because Laios threw the bell? Way more stuff was happening at the time. Shuro's face and Cithis telling him to shut up still happened though. Mithrun also hit his head when it happened.

As it turns out, the Canaries have been in the lower levels of the dungeons for several days when the Winged Lion warned Laios about them. Since Mithrun knows where to find secret passages, he probably figured out a secret way to the next level after Laios had opened that giant door and they camped out on the next floor when Laios's team was riding the trolley down.

Kabru and Mithrun were always just ahead of Laios this chapter so I expect them to meet up just before they all reach the bottom of the dungeon.

back

[labyrinthofsphinx]

Hello! This might be a silly question, but I was curious if you have any future Hazbin/Helluva fics or ideas planned once transmissions is completed? Whether it be Drift or Vox & Al centric or otherwise? Absolutely no pressure of course, you do whatever makes you happy at your own time, I know you’ve sorta elaborated a little on it in other asks before but I wasn’t completely sure lol (everyone btw please go read these fics and give them traction! They are so so good!)

Awww, Anon <3 You got me all blushy now! Really though, glad you like my fics! Was actually in the middle of writing up the next Transmission chapter too, coincidentally <33

But yeah, actually I have a list of different ideas for more helluva/hazbin shenanigans, mostly taking place in the same verse! Haven't decided which to actually start penning yet, and maybe you guys could let me know what interests you the most! Here's a short synopsizes of the ones I had sorta outlined:

For those of you that have read Statistical Outliers, you might remember Vox mentioning an event called the Grand Exhibition, an annual ball that's thrown by overlords for overlords. You might also recall that there's a party that originally inspired that one, a goetia party which even Vox described as 'beyond exclusive'. Well, our media man himself warrants an invitation to this exclusive event, the first overlord personally invited since the one that started the overlord ball! But there's both pluses and minuses to be one of the only Sinners among an echelon of demons who, um, have their own agendas. I say one of because now that's Lucifer is back and trying to spread his wings more, his daughter convinces him to take some of the guests from the hotel as a plus one, or two, or six. Which may include, the the ire of the devil himself, our favorite radio host. Sad as it is to say, Vox might just be safer dancing with Alastor than rubbing elbows with this crowd.

That's the short synopsis but it's kinda a celebration of the hellverse as a whole. You might see some appearances from characters you might not suspect, like Drift, the Sins, famous goetia, and potentially a dysfunctional work family of imps ;)

Another idea actually branches off an initiative that Charlie comes up with, with the assistance of Emily, hoping to help bridge the gap between sinners and winners. And what better way to do that than a friendly interview where Sinners can apologize to the Winners that they may have been sent upstairs before their time. That's the pitch, anyways. In reality? Vox, master of television, is brought on board to help make this whole thing run smooth. And of course he plans on bending it all to his own benefit. Everything kinda gets derailed when the first interview ends up being Drift, meeting the man he hit on accident. And you know? The victim here might not act the way you'd think for an angel.

Aside from some more Drift and Vox interactions, this one was going to go into the kid's backstory in more detail, and kinda comment on the disbalance between judgement of Winners and Sinners. What separates one from the other? Sometimes, all it takes is one bad day. Or being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And Vox is over here looking to make this whole thing turn to his advantage.

On the more Helluva boss centered side of things, I do have a fic regarding Striker and his backstory. Written from the perspective of Striker's childhood best friend, its a story about the wilds of Wrath, where rugged childhood adventures turn to gritty adult drama. Its a rollercoaster, meant to show off how exactly Striker got to be who he was and introducing another character who is going to feature here and there throughout the intertwined webs of stories, my helluva oc, Wyld. This one is already written out quite a bit, nearly 200,000 words at this point, just never published. Wasn't sure there'd be much interest in it. Fair warning, this one gets dark in places because it's very much inspired by gritty realistic westerns, like Eastwood's Unforgiven.

Those are the ones on the docket right now, mostly because those are the ones I've outlined so far, but I'm always adding to it. For anyone interested in my fics, the first one is Statistical Outliers, which is where the main man of television meets a scrawny hairball by the name of Drift and takes it upon himself to, uh, rehome him. And why does it seem like Alastor's sticky fingers are involved in this somehow? The sequel, currently ongoing, is called Transmission Not Received , which is a mystery that forces a reluctant Alastor and Vox to work together to figure out who's running across Pentagram City and nabbing kids from right under their parents' noses in the dead of night.

Hoping to get the next chapter of Transmission up soonish and, boy, is it a doozey!

Either way, let me know what you guys think, maybe check out the fics if ya see something that interests you, and a special shout out back to Anon for making my day! <3

Thanks for the ask! <33

[viviennevermillion]

Theory about Fellow's backstory:

Some things I'd like to bring to your attention:

Fellow states that he wasted a few more years than the NRC students and slid non-committally through life until he was over 20 and became "employed"

Playful Land has recently become a trend and a fabled place everyone wants to go to. So far we have no information on what the amusement park was like before it became popular, so it might not have existed for that long

Fellow, while being the manager of Playful Land, clearly has a boss who threatens to cut his and Gidel's salary and he doesn't seem to get along very well with his superiors, even seems to hate them as he implies they are the rich people he appears to despise.

Gidel seems interested in going to a school

Now, I haven't personally seen Pinocchio except during my very early childhood, but I have looked up Honest John and apparently he has a boss called the Coachman and according to the wikia Honest John even sympathizes with Pinocchio and reacts with horror to the Coachman's plans to enslave the children

Fellow seems enraged when the topic of money is brought up and Yuu asks him if he does all this "just" for money and he talks about the students going to school as though they are very privileged etc.

This is still a Disney game and Fellow will likely get a card next year the same way Rollo did, which means he needs to be marketable. He's already marketed as the pretty new villain. They could still surprise me but for now I find it rather unlikely that they'll make Fellow a full-on human trafficker out of his own free will for the sake of evilling or some petty revenge / self-hatred reason

So my take so far is that Fellow is going to be the villain we deal with in this event just how Rollo has been but he is NOT the big bad of this amusement park scam. Taking all of this into consideration, I think Fellow is very much complicit in the crimes committed in this event but likely not of his own free will. So far, from what we know about him and assuming Disney won't go as far as make him an irredeemable human trafficker (they might but I still find it unlikely), he reads like someone who is trapped in what we call a "Knebelvertrag" (literal translation: 'gag contract') in my language; i.e. an unequal and unfair contract aiming to (1) create a power imbalance between the victim and the party that benefits from the contract, (2) restrict the victim in their autonomy to make free decisions, (3) make it difficult for the victim to refuse entering the contract, (4) make it even more difficult for them to exit the contract and often (5) make them dependent on the contract.

My theory is that Fellow was one of the first people they trafficked and he is likely useful enough for his superiors to employ him rather than to give him the puppet treatment. He might have had to choose between working for them or being turned into a puppet and sold. He might be responsible for them sparing Gidel from the puppet treatment as well.

Fellow was likely poor and apparently never went to a school from the looks of it. He might have been an orphan or from a bad home and in general the prime victim for human trafficking: someone very few people would look for if he went missing. I suspect that the fact that they can now pull this shit with students from a prestigious school and famous people is due to Fellow's magic and is a development that only happened AFTER he started working there, which explains the recent spike in popularity of Playful Land and that no one investigated them despite all this.

I can imagine there being a lot of brainwashing from the superiors involved such as:

making him feel like he can't survive without this job

making him hate the children who come to Playful Land because they're these privileged people who have what Fellow could never have had growing up

making him believe he can't cut ties with Playful Land without like, the superiors finding him and taking him out of the picture

making him feel like no one would believe him if he asked for help

Again, this is all based on the assumption that he's gonna get a sad backstory like Rollo. The other option would be to make him our first irredeemable villain.

The topic of this event is way heavier and more serious than stripping people of their magic power; it's human trafficking, a horrifying crime that actually exists in our world and if they want to make Fellow someone we can sympathize with they're gonna have to give him one hell of a backstory. "He suffered a loss and is full of self-hatred or jealousy" isn't going to cut it this time. Having him suffer with the guilt about his actions isn't going to cut it this time. Because this is not a mentally ill 18-year-old who's taking people's magic away, this is a fully grown adult man working for a human trafficking scam.

THIS on the other hand is realistic. These circumstances are tied to the topic of human trafficking and this would make more sense as a backstory for Fellow than anything else I can come up with for now. Sure you have the kids who are being held hostage and sold but that's just one facet of the whole thing. Not every case of trafficking is a prisoner in a shady cellar. Some of them are people who are in exploitative contracts and coerced and feel like they can't leave without severely endangering their lives.

Not saying Fellow is a victim or a poor little meow meow because at this point we still have no idea where they'll go with the rest of the story, they might just make him petty and evil. But if they'll take the sympathetic route, this is what makes sense for me as his backstory without making it feel like he got off too easily or like the story excuses his behavior.

For all I know he could just turn out to be complicit in human trafficking because he never got any chances and thinks the privileged kids deserve this and we could just beat him up and throw him in prison but that'd be a first for this game.

Anyway, what do you guys think Fellow's backstory will be?

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Three: Fate Rewritten

The Missing Title

Helmut Zemo x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: After bumping into Sharon, you're escorted back to her apartment in High-Town. What lies in wait is way more than you'd anticipated in store for your night.

Words: 6.4k

Warnings: Partying, Alcohol, Power Dynamics, Semi-Smutty, Inferences toward sex, Age Gap

Mentions of: Government, Betrayal, Treason, Hypocrisy, Grief

A/N: I've been waiting so long to get to this part! Ahhh, I feel like this is really when things will start to change, considering the reader's backstory and her growing relationships with the guys. Not to mention that some of the main plot points are finally being set in motion. I decided to not fully wind up writing them together since the chapter got so long, but I'm sure it'll def pop up in flashbacks later on down the line.

It's safe to say that you're more than a little out of it by the time you guys get into Sharon's vehicle. She insists on driving, and the guys need a good view of Zemo to make sure he's in check. That leaves the three of you in the back: Sam, you, and Bucky. As your journey takes you back a similar way you'd come, you can't help but still be fascinated with the lights. What's Sharon got in store for you all? What's her plan? While you're not super familiar with her, you wonder what she was doing in Low Town Madripoor in the first place. Surely, she hasn't been following you all this whole time.

Once she parks outside a luxury-style apartment, you follow Sam out the back door and follow Sharon into her place. "Woah," you whisper, taking in the fact that not only one security guard--slash--doorman stands out front, but two. Through a big metal sliding door lies an art exhibit, glass containers lined with neon blue lights illuminate different sculptures and craftsmanship. Real antique and pricey-looking things.

"Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well," Sam comments as he walks beside Sharon alongside the containers. Whatever she'd been going through when you'd first had your run-in has clearly dissipated as she seems to come to life upon Sam's teasing.

"Well, at some point I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I can get for a real Monet?" She asks, gesticulating with her arms as she explains her situation. While Zemo lingers a few steps behind you with Bucky trailing, you can't help but slow your steps upon this information.

"Easy, deactivate your hustle mode," Sam warns, "You sell fake Monets." He wants to clarify. While Sharon might pretend to allude to a profited criminal life such as Zemo, Sam clearly thinks she's a goodie-two-shoes.

"No, she means real. This gallery specializes in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics," Zemo explains nonchalantly as he follows Sharon, continuing to round the exhibit.

"So it's true then? What they say..." You ask them, eyes shifting from Zemo onto Sharon, then finally Bucky who stands a few feet before you while Sam occupies the space by your side.

"It's true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this," Bucky answers, eyes still taking in the pastel-dotted canvas.

"There's no way," you whisper to yourself, voice trailing off as you take in the scenery. Heading down the two steps, you approach Bucky's side, eyes scanning over the Monet painting before you. You've seen his other works in museums, though now you know they were fakes. Regardless, you don't think you'd be able to tell the difference.

"Okay, guys, I see what you're doing. You're more worldly than good old Sam," your friend complains, still stationed where you stood a few moments ago.

"Yeah? What's Google say?" Bucky asks, a playful tone curling around his words as he physically rounds Sam. This elicits your attention as you shift your gaze onto Sam, glad he's now enlightened onto the, well... not-so theory of conspiracy you and Bucky both seem to know about.

"No shit," Sam exclaims, clearly bewildered by the thought. In all honesty, you can't blame him. To think people would do something so greedy and frivolous? Useless? It takes seeing it firsthand to really believe, and it seems Sam's eyes are finally opening to that aspect.

"Come on, guys-" Sharon calls from the stairs, Zemo waiting a few steps behind her as they stare in your general direction. "You need to change. I'm hosting clients in an hour," She informs.

While you don't question her, you are curious as to what sort of clients and business she does... besides selling art, that is. There's a world of art, of course, yet you know that there's only so much a lifestyle of it can afford. Following the group upstairs, you're taken aback by the fact that this whole place is starting to seem like Sharon's.

"Of course, I've got all this stuff out here for you guys-" Sharon eyes the men, "-but I've got a few things you can borrow for tonight. Come with me," she commands.

Following Sharon through a series of archways and pristine doors you find yourself in a massive bedroom. Intricate patterns are embroidered on the comforter, and through an open doorway, you can see that there's a walk-in closet. It's precisely where she's led you, her hands gesturing for you to follow. "I know. Nice right? Every girl needs a walk-in," she comments before chuckling to herself.

Taken aback by the wide array of shoes on the shelves, purses on hangars, coats, dresses, pants, and shirts all hang neatly in their place, their own rack for each category of piece. Though you aren't sure where to even start, let alone if you even want to. Everything is too expensive, you couldn't possibly use them. Sharon speaks up.

Her fingers run across the fabric, only stopping once she spots something, though her back is to you and therefore your view is obscured. "Try this on, I have the shoes to go with them and together? I'm sure you'll have a great night!" She says over her shoulder before winking. With a quick hand she tosses the hangar to you, which you scramble to catch. "I'll see you downstairs, then."

The dress is a plain black fabric, a halter top cut, two slits on either side of your hips at the start of your thighs. It's a little more exposing than what Zemo had picked, though with everything that's happened tonight, you feel for some reason that you can't bring yourself to care. If someone sees something, it's not like it's the end of the world. Besides, with this dress you could wear a thong or panties. Though the panties would have to be matching or sexy, intentionally meant to be seen as a fashion statement. Deciding to just go for the dress, no bra needed and your panties already discarded, you're glad for the comfy snug fit the fabric offers. It's far more stretchy and accommodating than Zemo's. The shoes you have on work, the only thing left to do is to put your hair up. Finding a claw clip on Sharon's vanity, you figure she won't mind if you borrow it for tonight. After all, it's a lot less intimate than a dress.

With a wet wipe from the bathroom, you're all good to go. Makeup is natural enough to pass as anyone, hair is different, so is your dress, and while the shoes may not be, with the darkness of the gallery you're sure no one will notice. Especially not if there's going to be drinking; and no good party lacks a variety of drink. Heading back to the foyer Sharon had originally brought you to, you find the guys settling in nicely.

Taking in the intricate pieces placed throughout the room, you inspect each one carefully. "Much better," Sharon comments, heels clicking against the wooden floors announcing her return.

"What's going on, Sharon? You don't ever wanna come back home?" Sam asks. The shuffle of fabric and the faint tinkling of metal tells you he's changing his shirt again! Trying to find something suitable for him is practically impossible, and this, you swear. Out of your peripheral vision, you see Sharon place something on the arm of the couch while Zemo stands by the bar.

"They'll lock me up if I ever step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn't allow extradition," She informs.

"Good to know," you joke to yourself. Fingers running along the smooth wood of the desk behind the couch, you don't notice how the comment seems to have everyone's eyes lingering on you for a moment before Sam chuckles and shakes his head.

"Look, sorry I didn't call, but after the Blip and the chaos, I just..." He attempts. This piques your interest, not initially intent on eavesdropping, though this sounds like something a lover might say. Did Sam and Sharon-? You don't wanna know... do you?

"Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right?" Her tone softens, a genuine question reaching out to form some sort of connection. An attempt to regain a friendship, you think. "I mean the way you gave up that shield, deep down you must know it's all hypocrisy."

Eyes rising from the necklace displayed by the clothes rack, your eyebrows furrow in surprise. Wasn't Sharon CIA? To join the government so outright, then denounce it only a few years later? Something's fishy about it and eerie in a way you don't like. Even if what she's saying elicits a subconscious subtle nod of your head.

"He knows. And not so deep down," Zemo comments with a raise of his drink. This garners everyone's attention for a moment. You can't help but stare as you linger on him. Curious... Questioning.

"By the way, how is the new Cap?" Sharon asks, hands in her pockets. You aren't CIA by any means, but you know how to read body language. She's clearly got her guard up, but for what? You're not sure.

"Don't get me started," Bucky groans.

"Please, you buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit," Sharon argues. You round the room, peeking through the windowed panes of the glass doors into surrounding rooms to see what goodies lie there. If the rooms you've seen so far are anything to go by, you're sure the rest of the apartment complex is loaded with treasures. "Before you were his pet psychopath-" it doesn't take looking to know she's referring to Zemo, considering her positioning and emphasis, "-you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend."

Although you don't comment, you can't help the way your lips curl inward in a silent attempt at holding back any sort of chortle or chuckle from emerging.

"Wow. She's kind of awful now," Bucky comments. While you might guess he may be joking sarcastically, you can't be sure. Is he just insulting her? Being passive-aggressive? You can't tell.

"Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum," Sam informs, passing you as he rounds the couch the other way and sits across from Bucky.

"You guys really should steer clear of all this for your own safety," Sharon warns. Being in Madripoor and clearly in a position of wealth and selling artwork underground, she must know the rumors.

"We know it's a risk, but we won't leave until we find the person who cracked the code," Sam responds, unfazed and defiant of her advice. Elbows on his knees he leans in closer.

"We got a name. Wilfred Nagel," Bucky discloses. Sharon gets up and crosses Bucky to get to the bar, Zemo gets out of her way and walks toward you to sit in the lone chair by the side table.

"Nagel works for the Power Broker," Sharon replies. A dissatisfied hum rumbles in your chest. You don't want to think about the past, nor worry about how you're going to find the Power Broker to stop the supplier.

"We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared," Sam offers, all the men's eyes intent on her as she pours a drink. Fingers running over the edge of a tapestry hung on the opposite wall, you listen intently.

"You haggling with my life?" She asks, tone sounding genuine to you.

"Not like that," Sam corrects.

"I don't buy that," She responds, and really, you can't blame her. "You pretending like you can clear my name."

You have to admit that Sharon is starting to grow on you in some sense. She's smart, that much is clear. While you don't outwardly boast the things you know will be demonized, she does, and you can respect her for that, if anything. Though you haven't weighed in much, you've been listening. Of course everyone has their judgments and suspicions, and while you may be leaping to conclusions, there's a fishy suspicion brewing in your mind. You only wonder if anyone else is catching onto what Sharon is putting down. Eyes flickering over to Zemo for a moment, you notice him meet your gaze. Immediately looking back to Sharon, you can't help the tiny smile that snags at your lips, blush forming on your cheeks. Originally intending to gather intel, for some reason you couldn't handle the pressure of his gaze.

"-I'm willing to try if you are," you zone back in on what they're saying. "They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he's met," Sam points out. A chuckle escapes your lips and you shrink in on yourself, not having expected that.

"-I heard that," Bucky comments to Sam, though his eyes and dissatisfied look are aimed at you. You don't even have to see it from your peripheral to feel his stare, the sense of it sending an internal sort of shiver down your spine.

"I don't trust charity," Sharon posits, intent on finishing their conversation.

"All right, a deal then. You help us out, and we get your name cleared." Sharon accepts Sam's extended hand and they shake on it. Downing her drink, she places the used tumbler aside and starts toward the door you'd entered from.

"Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I'll see what I can find." With that, she's out of the foyer and onto whatever business it is that she's doing.

"Trouble," Zemo repeats playfully with a shrug of his shoulders, a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Yeah, that's what you better not be," you warn. Eyes meeting his, you can't help but find that his playfulness has spread to you, even if you know you can switch into gear and act in accordance with the mission if need be.

"Well, you know me," Zemo taunts. With a swig of his drink, he lays the finished glass atop the coaster on the table beside his chair.

"That's the problem," Bucky quips, standing as Zemo moves to follow where Sharon had gone.

--------

You have to admit, with wherever Sharon stands in your likes, she can throw a good party... that much is clear. Originally determined to view all the authentic art pieces lingering around the gallery, it hadn't actually taken as long as you'd have thought. With a drink or two offered along the way, you can feel yourself start to loosen up. Hors d'oeuvres are littered throughout the party, and with Sharon being such the great hostess, you hardly feel the usual sense of guilt for indulging when it comes to fancy parties. It also doesn't help that they're really good and you hadn't eaten a lot, really, since Zemo's jet was scarce of in-date snacks. Eating expired foods wasn't really a risk you were willing to participate in today.

As the night goes on you find your way to the dance floor after a little persuasion from Sam. While you all might still be focused on your mission, the excuse of blending in is one of necessity. It's not really a party if there isn't dancing, right? The Avenger eventually decides to ditch you in favor of making small talk with some of the other partygoers. He's most likely trying to seek information, knowing him.

Dancing with Sam was different than dancing with Zemo. You hadn't anticipated for this to happen, but considering he's maintained a central viewpoint for the boys, that just so happens to be the dance floor. He's discarded his jacket at some point clearly as his chest is in full display in the plum sweater he's donning. It'd started off friendly, simply busting out your lamest dance moves for fun in the same vicinity. Yet, as the songs played on and you grew closer in distance to make conversation, the vibe between you shifted.

There's a reason they say not to mix drinks... and now you know why. It takes a matter of a half hour for your resolve to break, the inner dialogue, the constant fighting of the comical angel and demon on either shoulder bickering with one another. Overall, the devil had won- there was no use in denying what you want, that you have a plan, and are pursuing it. You're going after what you want. Using any chance to get closer, any excuse to feel his hands on you. the recent memory of his hot breath fanning across your neck, the spark when your lips met... it's still heavy on your mind and hot in your blood.

"You should know this one," you joke across the few feet between you as you sway to the music, the beat of the music ramping up, the bass and beats getting faster and faster toward that familiar climax you all know so well. 'There's not a soul out there-' bouncing to the rhythm, you let your hips sway as your arms find their way above your head.

'Give Me,

Give Me,

Give Me A Man After Midnight~'

It's a remix, the techno music is very different from the original, however, you can't deny you enjoy the song. It's fitting if nothing else. If anyone were to ask why you want this, you couldn't explain it--not rationally--and looks aren't a good enough reason, you know that better than anyone. While there are certain characteristics that could be said of his mannerisms and personality, you wouldn't dare to compliment or lead to the ego of a madman overextending its peace. Many would argue it already had, after all.

He doesn't seem to mind either. Whether you're simply keeping up the act, even if it's unnecessary here, you both find yourselves indulging in the ambiance around you. Breath heavy with the adrenaline of dancing and the higher temperature of lots of bodies on the dance floor, you're being bumped and jostled by the people around you. His hand extends at some point, loosely wrapping around your waist as the two of you draw nearer to one another. Over all, it's safe to say that Sharon may just have predicted your 'great night'.

As it draws closer to the wee hours of the morning, Sam makes his way around to advise you all of making it an early night. Tomorrow is supposed to be busy, so it makes sense. While the four of you head upstairs in a staggered manner, you find that once you're changed and sat on the bed that you still don't feel ready to officially end the night. Eyes drawn to the red dress and accompanying apparel you'd borrowed earlier, you can't help the thoughts that follow. However lewd they may be, it doesn't stop your mind from drawing up a vague plan.

Part of you knows it's a bad idea, that you shouldn't do this, but then again... what's the worse it could lead to? A one night stand? There's no reason that leads you to believe, rationally, that any of the same thoughts are going through his head at all. Therefore, you continue your trapse down the hallway. The wooden floors creak every so often, and you don't miss the way that Sam's clicking fingers on the keyboard come to a momentary halt before returning to its previous pace. It'd go unnoticed if you didn't know better, but you know he's well aware of your presence, just as you are of his.

You'd already thought this through--the excuse--the lie. It's a shame, really, to have to lie to a friend whom you love dearly... yet, you know there's no telling the truth in this circumstance. Yet, there is... isn't there? After all, you know it'd be taking a play from Zemo's book, you're sure, no doubt, but anyone who's smart knows that all lies hold some semblance of the truth. Hence, your excuse; smooth and comforting material weighing your hands down by your stomach, you're about to walk past the back of the couch when his soft voice stops you.

"You're going to visit him?" It's a reasonable question, a check-in. Something to note, since, he is a criminal... a dangerous person. Someone to be kept in check. Unpredictable, as they'd said.

"Just returning these," you answer, lifting the bundle of clothing and the accessories of your disguise for Sam's viewing.

"I'm sure he could care less, but, by all means-" Sam extends his hand in the direction of the hallway. "If he tries anything-"

"-call out, I got it. I'm only planning on dropping this off. Maybe asking him something if he's up for conversation. But it shouldn't be too long. Don't worry," you attempt to reassure him. "You should get some sleep soon, too, you know? Especially if we're to do this in the morning," you shift the topic, intent on reminding him of what you hope is tiredness showing, even if the bags under his eyes grow heavier with the hours.

With a nod in your direction, Sam lets his attention drift back to the computer screen, intent on whatever work it is he has waiting within the digital world. Though you'd like to say this relieves you, lifts a burden from your shoulder, it only makes the weight on them sink further into you. Whether it's dread, guilt, or shame at all of the incredulous scenarios that run through your mind in possible what-ifs of the conversation to play out between you and the Baron, you can't do anything but shake your head in an attempt to dissuade them. Bare feet padding across the wooden floor, you notice how the dim light that peeks from under the door gives your heart a reason to speed up. Really, its the realization that you've never truly been alone with this man since you've met. The rumors, perhaps, the danger they claim he holds... the possibility of a supposed madman snapping at any point is equal parts exhilarating and yet, still terrifying. At least when you let yourself truly contemplate this fact.

With a hesitancy at the door, you lift your small fist up to the carved oak, lingering... debating. While you'd thought all resolve had fled the moments after you'd downed your fifth shot... the buzz of alcohol has long since seemed to dwindle away from your mind, the accelerating carefree feeling emptied from your veins and replaced by the cautiousness of someone who Sam would tease is entirely, all you. Determined to defy the limits of the box your closest friends place you in for one reason or another, you gently knock on the door.

There's no response. Something you'd expect, if not for the way that there's a shuffle of fabric and then a sigh on the other side. "Come in." Cold golden ornate knob within your grasp, you turn it and push the heavy door open enough for you to slip inside before quietly closing it behind you.

"Hi." It's the first word that comes to mind, the only thing you can think to say, to break the silence between you as he takes in your bare goosebump-riddled legs and the satin robe you have on.

"Hello," he returns the sentiment, unmoving from his position, torso upright against the headboard as he lies in bed, legs outstretched before him. "What a surprise to see you, Schön. Though I should've guessed from the light footsteps and quiet knock. James would certainly not allow me a moment of privacy, nor Sam." Sitting up a little straighter, his hands clasp in his lap. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Swallowing your shyness, as you can't simply stare at him forever--that'd be far too embarrassing--you lift your arms a bit for emphasis. "I thought I would return these to you." There's a wooden chair with a striped pattern of cloth covering the cushiony seat standing by the vanity. That's where you place the pile of folded clothing and shoes. Although you're no longer facing him, you can feel his gaze lingering on your figure. When you turn around again, he has his head tilted, no doubt thinking about something.

"You can keep the clothes, Schön, I don't need them back. However, I'm sure you knew that. Why are you really here?" He questions.

"What if I really was just here to return the clothing?" You offer, mirroring him unconsciously with a little tilt of your own head.

"Then I'd say you're courteous, and ask how you liked the outfit I picked out for you," he retorts. Even from across the room, you can spot a flicker of something within his irises. Whether he's playing with you, toying with you, or testing you, you're unsure. This question, however, puts you on the spot. A bemused smile graces your lips and you don't try to hide it. Taking in his state of wealth, you decide not to comment on how expensive you thought everything was, as you'd rather not know. It's better to play on his level.

"I... thought it was very nice. Not something I'd normally wear, but for a nice evening out, I think it was a good pick. The shoes were cool, the gems on the back," you recount.

"The color suited you wonderfully. Brought out your features, just as I'd predicted," he comments with a somewhat smug look upon his face. Seemingly half-placated with the notion, though there's still something gnawing at the seams of his resolve. "There's another reason you're here, whether you're willing to admit it or not." This is a test, you're well aware.

"Mmm," the hum leaves your lips before you can even begin to think of a retort. Turning on your spot, you can't help but run your fingers along the carved wooden back of the chair, walking your fingers along it and taking a step further into the room as you think. "Am I?" You stop moving, offering a look in his direction. "What if I said that you intrigue me? That I wanted to ask you how you do it?" You posit.

Tongue sneaking out to wet his lips, the Baron listens intently. Though he silently chuckles to himself at you returning his question with another question, the second half of your thoughts elicit a narrowing of his eyes. This notion has caused pause for his own thought. "Do... what, Schatz?" He plays along, subconsciously leaning a little closer despite being across the room.

Though the various thoughts and moments from tonight race across your mind, there's one theme that you can't bear to continue reliving. One thought, one realization that you know will have you getting nowhere in the coming days. Jaw threatening to clench down on itself, you can't help but sigh as your hands ball up into fists by your sides. "I... tonight, I just noticed how... in every instance, no matter what seemed to be going on, you... didn't seem scared. Like nothing fazed you," it comes out a whisper. Those final words. Though you'd been trying to search for the right words, everything came out how it wanted to, yet in the end you couldn't help but whisper the truth. It seemed like nothing fazed him. Meanwhile you... were downright terrified. Scared in a way no one has made you feel. Ever. And the worst of it is that you know it's not over. Tomorrow you will get up, alongside the rest of your friends and acquaintances and get geared up and ready to face a man who's only haunted your past.

"Oh..." Zemo responds, your name falling off his lips as if you were simply a child, a silly girl that he feels pity for. Something shifted in his demeanor by the time you finally raise your eyes to meet him again, not sure when you had dropped your vision to the floor. Possibly too embarrassed to admit the truth.

It's this moment... that's when things changed, you think. Time settles in the space between you, the air thick and heavy with confusion and a cluster of effervescent emotions bubbling up and out of you both into the air, a swirling and confusing domination of raw emotion. There's no denying what's there; the truth, the matter of your age held right before you in time like a reflection of your souls. While you'd both endured a heaviness of trauma encumbered in your life time and time again, there's no denying that he's the older man, that he's experienced more... seen more, done more, lived more. And you... well, let's save the stereotype for literature digests, will you?

"Don't-" you warn, the rise of embarrassment hitting you like a brick wall as you begin to march toward the door with a speed that leaves him in a whirlwind. What surprises you both, however, is the way that as soon as your hand is reaching for the doorknob, his is roughly placed atop it. His hand effectively trapping yours underneath. You hadn't even heard him get up, yet you can feel the heat coming off his body only inches away.

"Come," he beckons, "listen." With gentle hands he peels yours away from the knob as he guides you over to the side of the bed, simply sitting. A pat of his free hand on the empty space beside him lets you know what he wants. Really, you'd want it too... if it weren't for the conflicting emotions in your stomach making you want to tear up.

He seems to pick up on your hesitance as he stands once more, hands tentatively moving to ghost over your shoulders, tacitly asking for your permission. When you don't push him away, he places them on you, hands encompassing your satin-covered shoulders. "You have to understand, Meine Süße," he starts, voice holding a softer tone than you've ever heard him use. "I joined my country's military as soon as I was eligible. From the time I was a recruit to the time I eventually became a Colonel..." Zemo sighs as he tears his gaze from you, the motion eliciting your gaze on him in turn. "The point is, I have been through more, seen more, than you and anyone will ever know. And despite my training, the truth still remains... disregarded by most."

Soft hand sliding down your shoulder to your wrist, his long fingers gently wrap around it as he guides you toward the bed. Sitting, you follow suit beside him, shoulder to shoulder as his arm winds its way around your shoulder. "As I see it, there is only reason to be afraid of death if one feels they have something left to live for. Would you agree?" While speaking you'd noticed his gaze, even if no longer stationed on you, become more far off and glazed over. As you silently ponder on his words, his eyes find your face, gauging you no doubt.

"Yeah, I suppose so... though are you saying you don't have anything left to live for?" You prod, eyes shifting between his as you attempt to read him, the two of you finally making eye contact once more.

"I did, once, yes. Though your friends would most likely also claim my recklessness only provides evidence for this theory," he answers. Zemo may not mention it explicitly, but you know that he's referring to his family. You'd heard the stories from Sam, the details from Bucky. That's why he tried to destroy the Avengers. Or did, considering the rift he'd created.

"Maybe... but you know that most people would argue that when you don't feel you have a reason to live anymore, that's an opportunity to find a new one, right?" You offer. Brushing your hair behind your ear, your vision drifts from his face toward the wall before you both. "And don't get me wrong. I understand. I do, really... I'd be lying if I said that I felt I had any sort of reason right now, but... I also think there's a certain cynicism in giving up hope. Maybe it's my naivety... my lack of experience in life comparingly... but I believe there's hope for everyone."

He hums in contemplation, "Perhaps." It's the only answer you receive, his eyes still lingering on your face for a moment before he, too, finds his own spot on the wall across from the bed. Neither of you move, still stuck in quiet consideration.

Held safe within his warm arms, there's a relaxation that finds you in the blue. You hadn't anticipated the night going this way, and yet... you wouldn't change it for anything. The answer was unexpected, but you can't deny that you'd gotten an answer. Heart thumping steadily in your chest, you finally take in a deep breath before leaning back just enough to peer up at him from underneath your thick lashes. "Thank you, Zemo," you whisper. There's no reason to be loud, not when the night is so quiet, so still, and there's only so much room between you.

"Helmut," he offers, a slight nod of his head downward in your direction, a squeeze of your hand in reassurance.

"Thank you, Helmut," you repeat, teasing slightly as you use the name he'd offered. An amused smile graces your lips and his grip on you loosens, glad to see you're no longer feeling beaten down. Unbeknownst to the both of you, while his grip has loosened, the distance between you is increasingly closing. In a matter of seconds, you can't help but jump off the ledge you'd been teetering off all night long- diving into the ocean that is Helmut.

Pressing your lips to his gently, the shocked gasp that resonates through his closed mouth easily turns into a hum as he returns the kiss, then draws out into a growl as his hand roughly finds your cheek, gripping it tightly with a desperate need. A whimper involuntarily leaves your throat as this happens, unsure what you've unearthed. Slowly forcing himself to pull away, his forehead rests against yours as you both breathe deeply, in need of the oxygen that streams into your lungs and filters through your blood. "Why?"

It's a question you hadn't anticipated receiving from him. An answer that you weren't prepared to give. Even if you both knew of the inklings and sparks that'd been building and dancing around you all night. "Because you were right," an airy laugh echoes in the space between you, "earlier. I did want something else, even if I wanted this, too." A smile stretches upon your lips, and the contagion spreads, Helmut mirroring it as an amused smile of his own tugs at the corners of his lips. The moment is short; a brushing of your noses against one another as you breathe in the same light-hearted air. Each of you tempting the other to be the first to lean in and capture a kiss from the other. Some unspoken instinctual game, perhaps.

Lips darting in for another peck, you're not surprised when his hand moves from cupping your cheek to rounding your head in search of a hold, a grasp of some sort. His hand winds into your hair, fingers gripping it tenderly. Pulling you in with his lips, he draws back, making you careen after him in search of his lips. Yet the instant he lies back, hands moving mindlessly down to your hips to help you straddle him and stay steady, the spark is interrupted. Helmut lies on the bed, a look crossing his face that leaves you knowing.

How can one read a stranger like they're a book they'd left open on a coffee table, passed by dozens of times? The heat where your clothed sex meet his undeniable erection. a spark sated in nips and kisses you'd been teasing each other with all night, yet there's something unsaid. "We don't have to," you voice it. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to." The hand that's not secured on his chest and holding you up runs down the front of his robe, the thick and cozy material running beneath your fingertips.

"I want to..." his voice trails off, "I just..."

"Don't want to offend her. I understand," you answer for him. Lips pursing into a thin line, the upward tilt of the inner corners of your eyebrows betray that semblance, showing your empathy. Even if to him it might appear as some sort of pity. "Though... if I may?" You inquire.

"You may," he encourages, curious to hear your thoughts. Warm splayed hands lie on your thinly robed hips keeping you steady and preventing you from grinding down on him and teasing further, even if you aren't presently doing so. A precaution, nonetheless.

"I know I didn't know her, and I've only heard a little, but... if there's anything I can say, I'd think she'd want you to be happy." The sentiment lingers in the air, and you offer him a saddened smile, quickly intent on clarifying. "And I'm not saying that to get you to sleep with me, I just... I think you should know. If anyone hasn't said it, I think any wife that truly loves her husband would eventually want him to find happiness again. However, it may be."

Silence settles in the air for a moment, and his lack of response elicits a spike of anxiety as you continue to voice your thoughts. "I know it probably doesn't mean anything coming from me, a stranger, but I still do believe in what I said," you chuckle, "and that includes people some may otherwise consider criminal, but... I believe there's hope for you. To find another reason."

"Verdammte Hölle," he curses. One of the hands on your hip squeezes for a moment. "I know," he acknowledges, "I just..."

"Haven't since?" You question, noticing the slight pinch of his brows. It's a guess, a posture in relation to the circumstance you both come from.

"Exactly," he affirms. Searching your eyes, you leave him no room for doubt as you lean down so you're chest to chest.

"Then we'll take it slow. If that's what you want," you reassure him, eyes searching his for some sort of clue into his thoughts.

"Yes, just bear with me, Schatz. It's been a while for me," He reveals, a hint of red tinging his cheeks. Whether it be from blush, embarrassment, or lust, you can only think of how handsome it makes him look in the golden light pouring from the bedside lamp.

"Me too, don't worry," you reassure. Hands resettling themselves on his chest, you both lean in, lips easily finding their way back to one another.

~~~~~~~~

translations:

Schatz = treasure, sweetheart, darling

Schön = lovely, beautiful, nice

Verdammte Hölle = fucking hell.

Meine Süße = my darling, sweet, dear, honey

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