#this one was tough but its done so I hope that you all enjoy it

[monzabee]

viva las vegas - mv1 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Max celebrate his win in a way you’ve never done before.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, having sex tipsy but there is consent?, manhandling, unprotected sex (are you even surprised at this point), oral (fem receiving), sex (duh), cursing, cockwarming (oops), minors dni!!

Request: “Hey babe! I’m obsessed with your last Charles piece, I’ve been wanting to read something like that for such a long time and you did it perfectly 😍🥹 I was wondering if I could request kind of the same concept with Max Verstappen? Like he always is pictured as a tough guy and stuff, but when you see him in videos he’s kind of a goof, so I imagine the first time he’s intimate with his gf they’d both laugh and have the sweetest time together” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! is this my best work? no but it is something i managed to get done for the first time in like a month so here it is!! finishing this fic was a journey within itself, but i can honestly say that it was also kind fun? also, i saw a picture of max in his suit from vegas and that just inspired this whole thing, so i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Max is buzzing with life, quite literally, you can feel him practically buzzing the whole time he’s trying to take you back to your hotel room as fast as possible. It’s most likely due to the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed after the race. Honestly it is pure luck that you found your way back to your room, given your current state, but instead of joining you when you jump on the bed, revelling in its comfort, he chooses to stand at the end of the bed as he watches you with an entertained smile on his face.  

“What?” you ask, a laugh washing through you as you raise yourself on your elbows, “Why are you looking at me like that?”  

He lets his eyes wander over your figure, his smile becoming more boyish as he lets it widen on his face, “You look pretty,” he murmurs, bending down so he can lower himself over your body better, “have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?” 

“Um, yeah, Maxie,” you giggle as you point out, “you’ve been telling me that the entire night.” Using your hands as support while raising yourself more so that you could be face to face with him, “I think you look pretty too, you know?” 

“Yeah?” Max murmurs, cradling your jaw in one of his hands, his thumb quick to caress the apple of your cheek, which causes you to lean into his touch. “What if I wanted to kiss you, would that be okay?” 

The smile you offer him in return is sweet, the way your eyes seem to shine at the offer of feeling his lips against yours makes his heart beat faster in his chest. “Yes, please.” Your voice is softer, almost comes out as a whisper due to you suddenly feeling out of breath.  

And who is he to deprive his girl? 

He doesn’t waste any time pressing his lips against your awaiting ones, in fact, the movement of his lips are rushed, if not almost desperate. It's as if he can't get enough, as if he's afraid this moment might slip away like sand through his fingers. The taste of alcohol lingers on both your lips, and normally you would be weirded out about it, but you realise it only adds to the intensity of the kiss you’re sharing with Max. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and you find yourself responding eagerly. You let him take control, mostly because it’s so easy for you to lose yourself in his kiss. He’s lost in it too, if you had to guess, because the way his tongue is fighting over yours for dominance is so different compared to the way Max usually kisses you. You whine at the loss of his lips when he reluctantly pulls away, and if he wasn’t already hard, the sound makes Max’s cock instantly harder. His head is thrown back, eyes closed as he lets out a groan, and he has to stop himself from pulling you in for another kiss. But you clearly have other plans as you drag your lips down towards his jawline, leaving kisses in a random pattern until you reach that one specific point on his neck that absolutely drives him crazy.  

And you know it’s only a matter of time until he stops you, again, as he has done for the past whatever months of your relationship. It’s not that you are not attracted to each other, because the attraction is as clear as day, and you have done stuff – not sex, but stuff. You’re not sure Max does that, but you also don’t want to be the one who pressures him into having sex with you if he doesn’t want to. Unbeknownst to you, the same goes for Max, who thinks you’re not ready to have sex with him and wants your first time together to be as special as possible.  

So no, you’re not surprised as he gently peals himself from you, causing you to whine again at the loss of him, but instead he gives you a small kiss on the forehead as he mumbles, “Why don’t you take a shower? We’ll go to bed after that.”  

“Is that your way of telling me I smell?” You ask in a playful tone, and he responds to you with a roll of his eyes. “What if I don’t want to go to sleep?”  

“No?” He asks, actively searching your expression for any sign of discomfort or reluctance. “We’ve had a long day, are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep?” The look you give him in return for his question is enough, and he knows this, but he also wants to actually hear the words, so he points, “Use your words, liefje.” 

A puff of breath leaves your lips in annoyance, but, nonetheless, you give him the best puppy dog eyes you can muster as you whine, “Please Maxie, you know what I want.”  

“Do I?” He muses, pulling you onto his lap as he ghosts his lips across your jaw. “I don’t know what you mean.”  

“Maxie,” you drag out his name, whining as your attempt at rolling your hips against his thighs don’t work. “You are being mean.”  

“Oh, baby,” he mockingly copies your pout, “I’m sorry. Can I apologise with a kiss?” To make his point, he presses a couple of soft kisses along your jawline.  

“Will you kiss me the way I like?” You ask, slightly out of breath, but his agreement that comes in the form of a hum makes you smile mischievously. His lips trail more kisses towards the neckline of your dress, and eventually through the valley between your breasts that is exposed by the lack of fabric. And you have every intention to let him have his way with you, you really do – after all, he won another great race. But a part of you also knows that making him suffer, even if just a little bit, in the process is so much more fun. So, just as he’s about to free of your breasts from the bustier of your dress, you quickly move away, slipping from his hands, trying your hardest not to laugh at the bewildered expression on his face. “On second thought, I think I’m going to take that shower after all.”  

“I—what?” Max mumbles, his slightly swollen lips pulled in a pout, and you can’t help but give him a small kiss.  

“I’ll see you after my shower, Max Emilian.” Sauntering over to the bathroom, you make sure to add an extra sway to your hips – and the sigh that Max leaves cause the smirk on your face to grow. 

It’s pure torture for Max to wait until you come out of the shower. Not that he doesn’t think about just joining you, especially after the show you just put on, but that would be giving into what you want – and though Max is a generous lover, he is also stubborn. He is more than happy to give you what you want, as long as it is on his terms. And so, he waits patiently, until you come out of the bathroom, a robe draped over your body, and he can’t help himself but let his eyes roam over your body.  

“How was your shower?” Max asks, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, a wolfish grin curving up on his lips. He rests his hands behind his head, relaxing onto the pillows behind him. He watches you give him a shrug, the soft-looking material sliding of your shoulder slightly as you collect your hair onto your shoulder. “Are you giving me the silent treatment, pretty girl?” 

There’s a coy smile on your face as you shake your head, once, twice, as your teeth press down on your bottom lip. Max wants nothing more than to release your lip, pull you into his lap and have his way with you, but no. No, because Max is nothing if not disciplined. “Come here,” he asks, straightening up in his place. You, being the ever-loving girlfriend you are, oblige his request. “That is a nice robe,” he murmurs, tilting his head as he grabs the towelette belt with the tips of his finger, “is it as soft as it looks?” 

“Mhm-hm,” you nod, “do you want to feel it?” 

“Do I want to feel it?” Max muses, “Sure.” His arms wrap around your middle so quickly that you don’t realise he’s pulling you into his lap at first. But he positions you with your legs on the either side of his. “You’re right, liefje, it is very soft.” His hands roam on your body over the soft material, but soon enough, his hands dipping underneath it to feel your skin. His eyebrows shoot upwards, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips, “No underwear?” 

“Well, I just came out of the shower, Maxie.” You give him an innocent look, shrugging once against as you rest your hands against his shirt-clad chest. “The shower pressure was great, you should’ve joined me.”  

He lets out a noncommittal hum, his hands roaming on your bare skin, revelling in the softness. “I’ll have to take your word for it.” He’s methodical as he slightly shifts you in his lap, tearing a gasp from the back of your throat. That gets a satisfied smile from him, “Something wrong?” 

“N-no,” you mumble, shifting again to get the same feeling, but his hands still you in your place. “Maxie,” you whine, silently pleading with your eyes.  

“Am I being mean again?” He asks, attentive eyes fixed on you, “I would offer to make it up to you with a kiss, but you seem to find ways to evade me when I do.”  

“No,” you whine again, lips pouted in disagreement. “I promise I won’t this time.”  

His eyebrows shoot up again with amusement, “Oh, yeah? Shall we test that theory, pretty girl?” The smile you give him is shy, but the way you nod is nothing short of coy. With a satisfied sound leaving his lips, he quickly presses his lips against yours. You sigh into the kiss, immediately, when you feel him deepening the kiss, more than happy to surrender yourself to him and let Max take the lead. Though, that doesn’t necessarily stop you from attempting to relieve the pressure between your legs by rolling your hips against his thighs. Your efforts, however, prove to be useless as he stops the movement before you can actually relieve any of it. He slowly pulls away, pushes a stray piece of wet hair behind your ear and tuts – condescendingly, you might add – “Slow down, liefje, I think I’ve had enough speed for one day.”  

Groaning at his words, “But Maxie,” you whine, dragging out his name as you let your hands wander on his chest over his shirt and receive a warning look from him in return, “I promise I’ll be good, please just fuck me.”  

“Baby,” he coos, his fingers working quickly to unfasten the belt of your robe and push the offending clothing off your shoulders, “I literally just told you to be patient, no?” 

You ignore the raised eyebrow, the look of faux-disappointment, and even the way his fingers grab your waist because you’re too busy trying to get him out of his shirt, suddenly feeling too exposed as you sit on his lap naked. “Please,” you whisper against his skin, peppering kisses across the column of his throat as your hands make their way inside his shirt, “I’ll be patient next time.”  

“I’m suddenly realising that I spoil you very much,” Max mumbles, pulling his head back to get a look at you.  

Pulling back as well you give him a mischievous grin, “Maybe, but you’ll give me what I want this time as well.”  

“Yeah?” He asks, “Why?” 

“Because I think I’m getting your pants very messy right now.”  

Max can’t help the groan that escapes past his lips, his eyes quickly following yours as he takes in the ‘damage’ your wetness has caused on his jeans. He takes a moment to assess the damage, drags his eyes up to look at you when he notices the way your eyes stay fixed down, as your nervously bite down on your lower lip. He loses all the composure he managed to muster up, and he finally gives in, quickly pushing you off him onto the pillows on the bed. The squeal that leaves you is followed by a string of giggles that leave your lips, and when Max looks at you, he takes in the darker look in your widened eyes.  

“I was going to be patient; I can’t believe you’re making me not be patient.” He mumbles, taking off his shirt and the rest of his clothes before starting to leave kisses on your feverish skin as he slides down your body and places himself between your thighs.  

You open your legs wider to accommodate his body, a breathy laugh escaping past your lips. “You mean, impatient?” 

That earns you a nip on your upper thigh and a warning look, but instead of commenting on your quip, he lowers his face, keeps his eyes locked to yours and gets to work. And it’s not that you and Max haven’t done stuff – because it’s the opposite; although you haven’t had sex, it’s safe to say that the two you have explored every option bordering on sex. But how he’s acting right now is much different than the way how he is usually with you. His movements are almost rushed, and the way he drags his tongue through your folds is just enough for your eyes to roll back as your moans fill the room.  

Normally, he would be extra careful and make sure he is being gentle with you; but right now, he’s just trying to savour you before he loses all his composure. A choppy gasp leaves you as you feel his fingers enter you – two at first, and the way he pumps them in and out of you makes breathing harder. The speed of his fingers matches his tongue, and for a moment, you think you’re going to pass out. With his free hand, he blocks any type of movement you try with your hips; his palm sneakily presses down on your lower stomach to keep you in your place, but it’s jokes on him because if anything, it just makes you feel even better, and you’re not shy to let him know just how much he’s making you feel good with your moans.  

“Max,” you say his name in a breathy whimper, fingers threading through his hair to guide him, “fuck, I’m so close.” You can practically feel the way his lips curl up, and suddenly, everything about his actions gets faster. His fingers are pistoning in and out of you in an unforgiving pace, in sync with his tongue that works your clit just the same. So, it’s no surprise when you find yourself coming on his tongue as his name leaves your lips for the umpteenth time like a prayer.

The smirk he gives you when he pulls himself from between your legs is sinful – he looks absolutely debauched with the way his lips glisten with your release, and he wastes no time before coming up, and capturing your lips in yet another bruising kiss. But this time, you taste yourself on his tongue and this time it makes you lose the whatever little resolve you’ve had left. So, you hook your leg around his thigh to push him next to you on the bed as you practically throw him next to you on the bed.  

Though he has other plans.   Of course.  

So, as you’re trying to fight the seventy-kilogram-something driver into staying under you on the bed, he has no problem manhandling you into rolling on your side. And as you’re pressed flush against his chest, you turn your head backwards to breathlessly whisper, “You promised, Max.”  

“And I am a man of my word, aren’t I?” He retorts, his hand that is splayed on your thigh positions it so that it’s bent towards your stomach, “Just needed to get you ready.” You can’t help the guttural moan that escapes you when you feel him pressing the tip of his cock into your entrance. The pleading look you give him must’ve worked, because this time it’s his turn to let out a guttural moan as he pushes himself into you. There is no sign of his mood from mere moments ago as you feel his hands caress your bare hip, an entitled smirk on his lips as he asks, “Out of breath?” 

“Fuck you,” your response comes out as a breathy laugh as you’re pushing your hips closer to his to take him deeper.  

“Lifje, you are fucking me.” Max giggles into the crook of your neck as he pushes himself in fully. You would be furious with him if it didn’t make you laugh also, and although the laughing decrease, the smiles remain on both your faces as he starts slowly moving his hips. 

It’s sweet, unbelievably sweet, considering the sexual tension that was in the room an hour ago, but the way Max is fucking you can only be described as sweet. His hands caress every part of your body that he can reach – your thighs, to your hips, to your stomach, to your chest and then wraps one of his hands around your throat; not in a way that is rough, but in a way that he can still keep you still as he captures your lips for another kiss. The movement of his hips is languid, almost lazy as drive into you, but he still manages to hit all the spots along the way. Breathy chuckles are exchanged when he pulls away for you to organise your breathing, but your smiles still stay on, even when he raises your bent leg and rests his on his own leg. The new angle makes your moans get louder, your hips to move against his faster, and you can feel your orgasm approach speedily.  

But Max is so in tune with your body that he knows what’s coming (or rather who) before you get a chance to actually have to say anything. His hand slides down your body so that he can press his fingers to your clit and move them in tight circles, and as if it was possible, his you can suddenly feel him fucking you even deeper. “You are going to come for me pretty girl, I can feel it.” He murmurs into your skin, and all you can offer as an answer is a nod and an affirmative whimper as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, give it to me, come on my cock.” And though he is not the most verbal person to ever exist, except for when he’s in the mood to be an absolute yapper, his words urge you to let go of the feeling that has been starting to brew in your stomach.  

Your hips start moving to meet his in choppy movements as you seek any and all kinds of pleasure to reach your high, and he meets your every move with increasing intensity of his own. “Max, yes!” Your exclamation hits his ears as he hits that one particular spot, making you instantly become lax in his arms as he guides you through your orgasm. His name spills out from your lips in constant repetition, “So good, so good,” you keep mumbling in breathless whimpers, trying to press yourself further into his body.  

With all things considered, it doesn’t take Max long to reach his own high following your own, since you insistently move your hips in a way that makes you take his cock even deeper when he’s helping you ride your orgasm. So, when you hear him groaning your name in the crook of your neck and feel him spilling himself into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he croaks out, holding your hips in place with his hands splayed on your feverish skin. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 

“How am I supposed to know, dummy?” You ask, throwing your head back to get a good look of his dishevelled state, “Why do you look so good after mind blowing sex?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, pulling you with him as he lets himself fall back on the bed, “genetics?” 

“Mhm,” you murmur, trying to find a comfortable position on his chest as he is still inside you, “remind me to send your mother a flower arrangement when we get back, or something.” 

A deep blush covers his cheeks, as if he hasn’t been fucking you for the past hour or so, as he stammers, “I– I mean, yeah.” This time, it’s your turn to give a non-committal hum, followed by a satisfied sigh as you snuggle him closer and close your eyes. “Just go to sleep, baby, we can deal with it in the morning.” 

“’Mkay,” you mumble, feeling his hand draw soothing circles on your back. “But you’re still gonna fuck me tomorrow, right?” 

This gets another loud laugh from the driver laying down under you, and both of you know that he’s going to do just that when you wake up in the morning. 

[imyourbratzdoll]

I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.

hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.

summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.

warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 

You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.

“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)

“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.

“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.

“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”

Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 

It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 

“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 

He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 

You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 

“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”

“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 

Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?

A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 

He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.

“Do you mean…?!”

Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.

“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[n0tamused]

HSR/Genshin Characters as Dragons

A/n: guys this series is getting out of hand I think I need to end it (jokes on you I will never stop talking about dragons). I really hope you are all enjoying this as much as I am <3

Contents: Argenti, Boothill, Dottore as dragons, x reader, gn reader, angst, fluff

Ko-fi

Argenti:

-Another pretty dragon to the list, and one amongst the kinder ones out there. A gentle giant by heart, he seeks to protect all beauty and innocence in the universe

-His kind is generally perceived as greedy and hostile, but for all negative traits his species has, he makes up for them tenfold.

-He tiptoes around young ones and anyone too small or too slow, he carries them if need be without being prompted to. Elderly and the kids have grown to love his presence and assistance, however scarce it may be since he comes and goes like the wind, chasing whatever enemy he spotted. Sometimes he can be overbearing with how eager he is to help, be it in human or dragon form

-He doesn’t shy away from his dragon form whatsoever, and since it is made for battle he uses its advantages against his enemies. His scales are quite tough and not many things can pierce him, and the horn in the middle of his forehead acts like a spear. One swing of his head is usually all it takes to take down his opponent

-Even covered in blood and grime after a battle or trial, he still holds a certain air of regality and elegance as he walks down the path to civilization where he goes to get cleaned (idk but I keep imagining a specific image. It's Argenti with blood on his center horn and looking sort of unbothered or innocent. Like those images of unicorns with blood on their horns yk?)

-His spikes are reminiscent of rose thorns, and very sharp.

-While he appreciates all the praise, he doesn’t consider himself worthy of it, and while he does love all the kids running to him - he does prefer that they don’t touch him for the same reason. He is not worthy of it, he is a knight of beauty but he is tainted, and he doesn’t want to taint the little young souls.

-It took some time until he let you come close to his form, and for a little he did feel overwhelmingly guilty. He always carries a sense of guilt and incompetence, he got used to that taste in his mouth

-He would jump into any battle honestly, and especially if it involves you. He grew to care about you a bit too much

-He spends much more time in human form around you, when battle is done and over with he would go to you after getting cleaned and tidied up, wishing to know and hear again that you are alright. And while you talk he always wonders if you were blessed by Idrila themselves, or perhaps you were set on his path by the Goddess of Beauty for him to meet? If this was another trial, he felt like he was failing - and failure never tasted better.

-He prays he doesn’t lose you. He does love to sing you praises whenever he can, and if he is passing by in his dragon form he lets out a little purr/soft chirp.

-Argenti often visits later at night, a rose in hand yet to bloom fully. And by morning, the petals unroll to reveal the deep red bloom, but by then he is long gone, and the conversation is but a memory to you both

Boothill:

-Boothill is a feral dragon, a hostile one and is to be avoided at all costs - many posters around towns say so, and if there is a rumble through the ground you can be sure there are people herding others into the closest building.

-He is nothing to scoff at. If he was a fierce dragon before, the metal, indestructible body didn’t make him any less soft. The IPC certainly had their ‘fun’ with creating him as he is now. They had attempted to put wings on him but the new body was already too heavy, so that idea was scrapped. Boothill did have wings in his previous body, his own wings that took him high above the ground and over lakes and sandy dunes, but now he will never fly again. 

-Nor will he be human anymore. He had died in his dragon form, and the power which allowed him to go between human and beast had died along with his past life. He’s not sure what’s worse - being half machine, marked by anguish and anger, or not being able to see the world from the lenses of a human, from a 6ft height and not 20 or so feet higher than that. 

-He was confined to the ground. But as soon as he had made his escape from the IPC’s clutches, he was gone for good.

-He had done it himself and removed the chips that marked his location and destroyed pieces of him that would have revealed him, and he made use of the ground he knew too well, better than them anyway.

-Somewhere along the lines, he joined the Galaxy Rangers and they patched him up, gave him whatever missing pieces he needed and he found his place among them.

-It took a long, long time for him to somewhat settle in his new body, the phantom pains and limbs never went away though.

-Now, though, whenever he arrives at a new planet he doesn’t take up too much space or makes himself known, he prefers the life of solitude and his own solo missions

-Sometimes someone may bump into him, but they’re never harmed unless they’re a part of the IPC. He has developed quite the keen senses for them.

-However you wormed your way into his, now, mechanical heart, I congratulate you. Seeing how physically impossible it can be to reach him

-But Boothill is quite chill once you get into a talk with him, and although sometimes he can get lost in the talk he does try to keep his voice down to a lower volume so he doesn’t hurt your ears. He’d lay down after lighting a small fire for you, his eye closer to where he can see you “normally” - and not from somewhere in the clouds. And from there on you two would talk and exchange stories. If you happen to be another dragon he’d be more at ease, and more at home too since he doesn’t have to tip toe as much around you or around certain subjects

-If you happen to be another dragon he does love to lock horns from time to time and wrestle a little like that, it gives his real skin some stimulation and something to feel. It may not be a fair battle as he is mechanical, but he tries to make it fair by letting a few screws loose- he doesn’t tell you that though.

-Speaking of that, he did once have his wrist nearly fall off due to this, he was trying to get some more ground to push himself off and the screw just popped out and he slipped, crashing into the ground as if he forgot how to walk

-Regardless if you are just a human or if you can take a form of  dragon, you have earned yourself the scary dog privilege (a dog that is secretly real nice and soft when you are around)

-also side note but in the art I did forget to draw the "thumb" on his hind right leg, apologies but yeah he'd have 5 fingers on all his limbs

Dottore:

-DOTTTORRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE

-Anyway.

-He wasn’t well loved by his surroundings in the place he originally hails from and he was exiled by his own kin, being chased to the edges of his region to be left to the elements - wherever that may be at this point because all records give different answers, and no one who has gone after him has returned alive.

-The hunger for knowledge grew from day to day, he had grown quite obsessive with getting the results he wanted. At this time he wasn’t exactly small, so he’d use the size of his dragon to his advantage as well, be it to frighten someone or to amaze another. It didn’t matter, as long as he got what he wanted. He doesn’t know anything else but the acts of setting a hypothesis and proving it true, or wrong, or finding another result equally as good. Nothing pleased him more than to succeed.

-His original body was paler than the one he has now, and while that could be blamed on growing up, it can also easily be said that it was a result of his experiments, and perhaps this form is just one of his many clones. Who’s to say he doesn’t have a pale blue dragon spying somewhere else while this black beast stalks around the Akademiya?

-His wings have three appendages on them which allow for easy manipulation of items or opponents, so he doesn’t often see the need to revert back and forth between forms unless something is delicate and requires that human touch.

-He is calculating and a mastermind behind many inventions, both mechanical and medicinal based. He can easily cure many ailments or fix up complex pieces of machinery that have long since been lost to histories. He has invented his own too, the clones are the biggest proof and only a small glimpse of what he is capable of. 

-The Omega Build can be said to be the closest to what he looks like in truth, but in terms of personality they can differ a bit. Omega is much more selfish and prone to using charm that the Prime wouldn’t really strive to use.

-Dottore does have the size and strength and all the power he could need to take down anyone, and while he may not be the biggest dragon you should be smarter than to think he can fall easily in battle. He has the power that can match that of an Archon - you really think he would be defeated to someone lesser than that?

-Underneath that mask you may find either his red eyes and scarred face, or an open part of his body that reveals the metal underneath and the red star that act as his eyes.

-He can walk bipedally and quadrupedally. 

-Another thing he is quite proficient at is mimicking sounds, and with that he lured people in. Some papers, implied to be him and some other Akademiya student, talk about how the young female student was lured away by sounds into a cavern, where she was promptly ripped apart. This death was blamed on the starving tigers found in the area, but Dottore knows the real story behind that attack.

-He is quite a good looking dragon, but can easily make your blood run cold with a simple flash of his sharp teeth. 

-You want one of his feathers, you say? Sure, you may have one, he’ll pluck it out himself and hand it to you. But don’t think it will come free.

Size chart:

- Argenti is actually a smaller dragon for his kind

-Had a bit of a difficult time sizing these boys up, but shh

-Dottore was smaller before, but after he began to make clones and also modify himself he grew more as a result of all those experiments (but is this the 'original'? Hmmm)

-Boothill once looked a bit disproportionate in the first mechanical body he had, since the IPC got wrong measurements, or perhaps it was on purpose as an act of some humiliation to break his spirits, along with making him crawl around without limbs as "punishment" (ah yes, I love Boothill lore)

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @moonlitreveri3 @lexidraws2 @drowning-in-cabbages @creationsabyss @grimulf-of-the-wilderness @st4rrl1ghtwastaken @the-inquisitive-constellation @voiddance @the-bilkush @fictionally-attached

[azrielbrainrot]

I'll Be Here

Pairing: Azriel x Healer!Reader

Description: You feel a little out of place at a celebration in the House of Wind and a certain Shadowsinger comes to the rescue.

Word Count: 3605

Warnings: None

Notes: I had this stuck in my head and decided to just write it down. I'm not really a writer so bear with me please. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Masterlist

It's hard to keep an eye on how much wine you drink when the glasses get refilled magically. You've heard that this house has a consciousness of its own. Maybe it can sense your growing anxiety and keeps filling your glass in hopes of helping ease your mind a little. The more you drink the more worried you get, the thought that getting too drunk will only put you at a higher risk of embarrassing yourself having infiltrated your brain and pushed all the rational thoughts out. Big gatherings aren't exactly your cup of tea and the fact that this one was personally hosted by your High Lord didn't exactly help ease your nerves.

You've visited the House of Wind before but always as a part of your duties. Though it was because of your duties you were invited to this dinner so maybe you could add this attendance as part of your job. The High Lord and High Lady decided to invite notable people in Velaris for a night of celebrating the thriving city. After losing its High Lord for decades and the war that followed his release, Velaris went through some tough times but with the help of its people - most of them gathered in this space tonight - the city was once again prospering.

As a healer you usually see the High Lord and his Inner Circle in a state of emergency, when your abilities are needed and there's usually no time for formalities or worries. Every time you encounter them outside of those situations you never know what to make of yourself. You wouldn't say you're completely inept at social situations but you're definitely a lot better at handling them when they involve your patients and you have a job to do, something more important to focus on than choosing the right thing to say.

Your relationship with the Inner Circle is professional albeit friendly. It's hard not to feel your heart warming at the cupcakes the General insisted on buying you for helping heal his wings even after explaining that you actually only helped on his recovery process. Every time he drops by the clinic to pick up any herbs or ointments he insists on buying you one - though you suspect it's also an excuse to get one for himself - and when you see him out and about he demonstrates how healthy his wings are, having done it just before dinner when he was in charge of flying you up to the house. The painting the High Lady personally painted for you, as an acknowledgement of your efforts during the war, hangs right behind your desk in your office at the clinic and is one of your most important possessions.

This would be the kind of relationship anyone would kill to have with their employees - friendly acquaintances. But, since you were there for some of their most intimate moments and helped them through them, you never know how to act when you're not doing your job. You can't exactly call them your friends, even putting the fact that is your High Lord and High Lady aside, outside of work you only exchange some pleasantries whenever you bump into them. However there's too much knowledge for you to act completely professional after decades of nursing them and their family back to health. It feels awkward to shake their hands when they have hugged you with tears in their eyes, thanking you for saving their family.

There's also the tiny detail of the crush you've harbored on the resident shadowsinger ever since you first laid eyes on him. On top of trying to walk the line between friends and strangers with everyone else, you also have to be careful with not letting the observant Spymaster find out about the beat your heart skips when you see him. Making things awkward because of a silly crush is the last thing you need.

It's that reminder and the monumental effort you have to make not to let your eyes search for him that has you finally sneaking out of the room, deciding to find a quiet place to sober up. The House had fed you too much wine, and you still had to be flown back down at the end of the night. You'd really hate to throw up on Cassian's fancy suit. He probably wouldn't buy you cupcakes ever again.

You remember some of your surroundings after decades of being called in for emergencies, quickly finding one of the huge balconies overlooking the city. The fresh air grounds you almost immediately. You can still hear the muffled sounds of the ongoing party but the quietness of the mountain lets you get lost in thought. As much as you enjoy the liveliness of the nightlife in Velaris, you infinitely prefer the quietness and freedom only the woods or mountains at night can provide. When it's only you, the moon and the stars, and the world stops.

You don't know how long you sit there for, leaning on the railing and looking into the distance, wondering why your healing abilities work on some forms of poison but not on sobering you up. Your head only comes back to earth when you hear a familiar voice calling out your name behind you. You turn around fast enough to make you a bit dizzy, leaning back against the railing with wide eyes.

“Didn't mean to scare you,” the shadowsinger explained, “I just noticed you were gone from the room.” You spot the way he's bringing his wings closer to his body, making himself smaller, if that were even possible. Azriel made you feel a lot of things but you hadn't felt scared of him in decades, ever since the first time you met him. If you hadn't been already tipsy and distracted thinking about him you wouldn't have reacted so dramatically.

Realizing the spymaster of this court had just found you wandering around his house unattended, you rush to apologize and give him an explanation.

“I'm sorry. I needed some fresh air and remembered there was a balcony around here. I shouldn't have left the party without permission.” You make to move back, showing you were ready to go back to the party but he raises a hand and takes a step closer to you, stopping you before you can.

“You're not a stranger to this house. No need for permission,” he took another tentative step towards you before continuing, “Do you feel better now?” You relax back against the railing, your heart beating fast for a whole different reason now. It's not often you get to see Azriel out of his leathers and you barely had a chance to see him up close tonight, he looks mesmerizing.

“What?” Maybe you didn't sober up as much as you thought. Maybe being this close to Azriel was just an intoxicating experience in itself. Either way your brain was having a hard time catching up to his words and your chest was starting to feel warm.

“You said you needed some fresh air.” There's a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. Probably realizing that you weren't actually going to be sick. His shadows peak behind his shoulders, following their master as they usually do.

“Yes. It was just getting a bit stuffy in there.” Aside from the butterflies creating a hurricane in your stomach, talking to Azriel feels right. His calm demeanor lets your thoughts quiet. “I might have drank too much because of the nerves.”

The Shadowsinger moves until he's leaning against the railing next to you. His eyes wander the illuminated city slowly before meeting yours. Stretched wings hang in what you assume is a less straining position after having to be pulled tighter into his body in the crowded room. Shadows start rolling off his shoulders, now lazing around him instead of covering him. The soft wind moves his hair ever so slightly, letting a few strands curl around his forehead and giving him an almost boyish look. It's not often you see the spymaster appear relaxed. You decide it might be your favorite look on him.

“Nerves?” Your eyes search his face once again after hearing the confusion in his voice. Azriel has a permanent seat at the High Lord's table not only as the Night Court's Spymaster but also as someone Rhysand considers family. This night isn't so different from every other dinner he shares with his family, just more crowded.

“I've never been to this house outside of my duties. It's a bit nerve-wracking to be personally invited by the High Lord.” As you finish speaking one of his shadows curls around his ear. You've learned they do this when they're speaking to him. The thought of it being about you has your heart speeding up. Only the Mother knows just how much those shadows can see and hear, if they can hear your thoughts. You check your mental shields just in case. They can be as terrifying as they are beautiful.

“Rhys and Feyre couldn't have thrown a party celebrating the strength and courage the people of Velaris have shown without one of our best healers. You've helped more people than we could ever thank you for.” The warmth you felt in your chest before was now spreading up your neck at an alarming rate. You had just been doing your job but being recognized for it felt incredibly rewarding. The fact that this praise came from the shadowsinger was making you especially giddy. “Rhys invited you because you're very important to this court, to us.”

“I am?” The question comes out before your brain has a chance to catch up. You try not to cringe at the surprise in your tone. It's not that you're not aware of your capabilities, the High Lord and High Lady either call for you or for Madja, one of the most powerful and wise healers you have ever seen. But old insecurities will always show their claws, indifferent to your achievements. To think that you could be important to all these extremely powerful people seemed like the punchline to a joke.

“Of course.” His body turns to you ever so slightly. Fingers uncurl as if he wanted to reach out, comfort you. “None of us would be here in good health if it wasn't for you, maybe not at all. You've helped us more times than I can count.”

“I was just doing my job. And I can't take credit for Madja, I'm usually just assisting her.”

“Even so, you've helped us through a lot.” He sounded very sincere, there was no denying he meant every word, but you still have a hard time believing it.

“I just don't think I really fit in here,” you whispered so low that if it wasn't for his fae hearing he wouldn't have been able to make out the words. The admission felt heavy in the air, it felt good to let it out. You hadn't been this honest with anyone, perhaps even yourself, in decades, you must have drank way more wine than you initially thought.

You weren't born in Velaris, but you've lived here for a century. The problem is you've spent the better part of that century waiting on feeling like you finally belonged. You never felt at home in your own court or in your family so it might have been wishful thinking that it would happen here.

“I think like that sometimes too.” As baffled as you were to hear that coming from him, he looked even more surprised than you. It seems he hadn't meant to say that out loud, but the words couldn't be taken back now.

“That's insane,” you try to level your voice after the outburst, "You're part of this family. Why wouldn't you fit in?” You couldn't let him think like that, there was no doubt in your mind everyone here loved and cherished him like family.

Rhysand's inner circle was known for how close they were, they were seen as the High Lord's family regardless of if they were blood related or not. Azriel has always been calmer and you know he likes to keep to himself but you never thought he looked out of place for a second. It's hard to imagine Rhysand and Cassian without his brother.

His eyes were trained on the city under you. His shadows had come back to him, almost covering him completely. Azriel was quiet for a while, long enough you thought he wouldn't even give you an answer. But then you feel a shield form around you, lest someone wanders in and hears his next words.

“Sometimes things and people change while you stay stuck in the same place,” his eyes meet yours as he talks and you search his expression for the rest of the story you know he won't tell. If there's one thing you hate about the shadowsinger is his ability to mask his emotions. His face was the perfect stoic mask as always.

It's not hard to understand what he meant. In less than a decade the inner circle almost doubled and some of the dynamics had likely changed with it. His brothers have found their mates, something every fae dreams of, and he was the odd one out. Even the Morrigan and Amren had found lovers in recent years.

You had heard some rumors he had taken a liking to the middle Archeron sister after pining for the lovely Morrigan for centuries, but she had also found her mate. Not even his methods of interrogation could make you admit you were avoiding the entire inner circle during that time. The hope you had felt upon realizing he wasn't looking at Morrigan like she hung all the stars in the sky was short lived and it only made you feel pathetic. You didn't understand why it had affected you so much. This was just a silly crush after all, you had never considered actually pursuing a relationship with the shadowsinger.

“I still don't understand how Amren got a lover before you.” You had meant to clear the heavy air between you but why your brain decided to use the millennia old creature to do so was beyond you. “I mean she's just…” you continue, startled by your own words, praying to the Mother that the shield he put up stopped Amren from hearing you, “Well, she's fae now but wasn't before and is still mildly terrifying, even after the transition, and you're so-” Wide eyes meet hazel and nothing could ever prepare you for the look on his face. The amusement shone bright in his eyes and in the teasing grin he wore. Just when you thought the shadowsinger couldn't get any more beautiful.

“I'm so?” He tilts his head a little as he asks the question. His shadows start almost dancing around him, like they can't wait to hear your thoughts on their singer. You clear your throat before continuing, trying to salvage some of your dignity.

“You're the Spymaster, the only known Shadowsinger. That's incredible, anyone would be lucky to have you.” Something flashes in his eyes and your mouth starts back up at the thought that it could be disappointment at the impersonal description. Azriel is much more than his role in this court and you can't let him think that's all you see in him.

“You're also one of the kindest people I've ever met. I've seen you worry over every single person in that room, putting their needs over your own even when you're also injured. You always keep your composure for them and give them your support. I've seen you around Velaris too, you're always respectful to everyone, even when they're a bit scared of you.” Eyes drag themselves back to the shiny stars in the night so you can keep going without wanting to jump off the balcony and making an even bigger fool of yourself. “Even as far as looks go... I would bet my house that if we walked down any of these streets we wouldn't find anyone that doesn't think you're stupidly handsome.”

“Stupidly handsome?” The amusement was dripping down his voice at this point. The smile was unmistakable in his tone and you couldn't hold yourself back from watching him any longer. You feel yourself relax at the grin plastered on his face. It isn't often that the shadowsinger shows any emotion at all, and you can't help the pride in knowing you put that gorgeous smile on his face, especially after the somber turn the conversation had taken earlier. You continue despite the warmth you feel in your ears, you'd compliment him for hours if it meant he wouldn't feel sad ever again.

“I've actually heard someone use those exact words to describe you.” You've thought it to be the most accurate description of the immense beauty the shadowsinger radiates ever since you heard the barista use it. Apparently she hadn't been born in Velaris and had taken up the job only a few days prior to serving the illyrian. She had barely held the compliment down long enough for Azriel to exit the building, shooting up into the sky. A few fae present couldn't contain the laugh at the fervent appreciation of the shadowsinger, but the air of agreement shared by everyone was unmistakable.

“I'll have to let my mom know,” there was laughter in his tone, “I'm sure she will be very proud that her son is receiving such compliments.” You hadn't known his mother was still alive which makes you think it's meant to be kept secret. You almost curse at the way your heart flutters. Stupid crushes.

“I'm sure she is very proud of you regardless.” He doesn't give away any hint of what might be going through his brain and it leaves you in a slight panicked fear of overstepping or having said the wrong thing. You could swear you saw a glint of disbelief but it was gone too fast for you to be sure. The idea that the Spymaster couldn't see his own mother being proud of him was ludicrous to you.

The nod he gives you doesn't give any of his thoughts away, but his shadows keep moving slowly around the balcony, never rushing to cover him.

“Why are you single then?” You know he's changing the subject but you don't have time to consider that when you realize it's your turn to answer the questions.

“Me?” You barely register the slight nod he gives to show you he's expecting an answer. If you had shadows of your own they would have wrapped around you like a blanket until only the top of your hair was peaking out. “How do you know I am? Are you using your spies on me, Spymaster?”

“I have to be well informed of what happens in this city,” he searches your face just like you did to him, “And as the spymaster I'm more than familiar with deflection. You don't have to answer my question. Tell me if I'm overstepping”

“No. It's-” you cringe, trying to find the right words. “I just never found anyone special I guess.” Even talking about this with him has your heart swelling in your chest and you pray to the mother he can't pick up on any changes in your heartbeat. You've been avoiding this conversation with family and friends, but despite all this you know Azriel will understand and won't make fun of your feelings. It feels safe talking to him. “I get really busy sometimes so it's hard to keep up a proper relationship, even with friendships. Sometimes people need more time than what I can give them.” You try not to think of all the times you didn't measure up to other people's expectations, when they didn't see you as enough for the trouble.

“They're idiots for letting you go.” You don't know if he's being polite in not mentioning how your heart keeps speeding up or if he thinks you're drunker than you are, but you thank every deity you can think of that he doesn't say anything.

“Some things just aren't meant to be.” You hope he doesn't insist on this conversation. There isn't much else to say and you'd rather not keep talking about how many times you'd gotten dumped. You consider pointing out he never gave you a reason for being single and that he was the one actually deflecting, but you don't want to push what clearly isn't an easy topic for him to discuss either. You suspect Azriel barely opens up with anyone, so you'll just treasure the brief look into his heart he allowed you before.

The rest of your night is spent with the shadowsinger, sitting in that balcony, watching the stars and talking about anything. The next day you'll sit in bed mortified, thinking about how you were doing most of the talking while he listened, but he had seemed content enough so you couldn't have been too annoying. When the party ended you had said your goodbyes to your hosts, without the previous nerves after your conversation with the shadowsinger. Feyre had even asked you if you were alright because she also noticed you leaving in the middle of the party, though something about the glint in her eyes told you she had gotten the wrong idea. Then Azriel had flown you down the steps and winnowed you to your front door - even though you could do it yourself. Maybe you'd have to rethink calling the inner circle your friends.

[miintsprigz]

Hello! I loved your mercs x artist reader! I ran into it when I started a Spy art piece a few days prior. (Spooky!) I wanted to request something! Headcanons about a (g/n) reader fear-punching the mercs out of instinct. Like, what if scout just jumped out at the reader and the reader fucking DECKS him on accident. Preferably all mercs, but if that's too much, then just Scout, Spy, and Medic. Obv feel free to ignore, but thank you for your other written pieces!

Oooh, y’all have such good requests!!!

I’ll be honest, I’m pretty sleepy right now, but Scout, Spy, and Medic are some of my favorite mercs to write for, so I can definitely write those three.

May make a part two with the others when I have a bit more energy!

I hope you enjoy, dear Anon ^^

Characters used: Scout, Spy, Medic (TF2)

Warnings: Bit of blood, stuff relating to anxiety.

Scout:

Finally, the weekend was here. It had not been a good week for you in the slightest, and you were glad that it was done. You could unwind and take it easy now.

Kicking your shoes off as you entered, you closed the door, only to be greeted with a sudden blast of noise.

“Boo!”

Without even thinking, your hand curled into a fist, shot out and struck the figure square in the jaw. About a second later, you recognized the voice as belonging to the Scout.

“Ow!!! What the—?!” He groaned in pain, rubbing the side of his face.

“O-oh my gosh, Scout…I, I’m so sorry…”

He curled his lips inward for a second, biting them. Jeremy wasn’t mad at you—truly, he wasn’t, although it hurt crazy bad.

His first reflex when punched was to punch back…but he wasn’t going to punch you. Never you. So he had to freeze for a second, taking a deep breath, rolling his head to the side.

You kept apologizing, hands starting to shake a bit. Quickly, gently, he reached up and took ahold of one of them, gently squeezing his fingers around the back of it, tapping them almost rhythmically against your skin.

A small smile made its way to his face, shaking his head slightly.

“…ya know, if I was just getting back here, and someone jumped out at me…I think I’d slug ‘em too. You’re okay, (Y/N)… I’m sorry I scared ya.”

You wanted to cry for a second, and he could tell. Pulling you in quick, he brought his other arm up to hug you quickly.

“You okay?”

“I-I’ll be fine, just gotta breathe…did I hurt you too bad—”

“Been hit way worse than that, doll. Ya do got a mean right hook on ya though.”

You laughed, and that helped to catch your breath.

“Let me get you some ice…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine, I’m tough…” Reaching up to gingerly touch the spot he’d been struck resulted in a wince though.

You jerked your head towards the kitchen. “C’mon.”

“Arright, if it makes ya feel better…”

“Oh shush.”

A quiet laugh cued you in that he’d be just fine after some ice.

He was noticeably careful with you as the day went on. You could tell he felt bad, but you’d said it was okay…and if he could take anyone at their word, it was you.

____

Medic:

Good word, you hadn’t been sent through respawn, but with how much your head hurt, you were starting to think that might have been a better deal than what you got.

Immediately, you sought out the Medic. If anyone could help you recover, it was him, of course.

You figured you’d just wait outside his office until he came back…not realizing he was already there. Hearing you outside, the doctor slowly, silently opened the door, and went to tap you on the shoulder.

Obviously, you hadn’t expected to see anyone, let alone feel a hand on you, and the pain had you on autopilot, so you spun around and—

“Ach!”

“Medic??? Crap—you scared me, I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, I—I just need—it hurts so bad—!”

Great. So now you were in pain after a long day, and you’d (accidentally) clobbered the only guy who could fix it! This was one of those “last straw” moments though, and Medic could tell.

“Oh (Y/N), no need to explain! Take a breath for a moment, bitte (please)! I promise I am fine…oh no…”

You tried to breathe, but it caught in your throat. His eyes were locked onto you, gently grasping your shoulders. Tears had threatened to spill down your face, and this got them falling. You sniffled, trying to keep composed.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“There there, come, walk with me…”

The two hands on your shoulders became one hand gently grasping yours, leading you to a cot in his office to take a seat.

“Where is the pain? Point. I will fix it.”

Somehow, the compassion and somewhat surprising gentleness only made you cry more, but you pointed to your head.

“Ooh, ja, after what I saw you put through today, I’m not surprised—my head would hurt, too.”

Before you knew it, a light flickered on above you, and as the machinery whirred, your pain waned and disappeared entirely.

“There! Good as new.”

Your voice broke when you tried to speak. “Doc…”

“What is it? Does it still hurt? That shouldn’t be…”

He leaned down a bit so that he was on eye level with you. You shook your head.

“I punched you…I didn’t mean to punch you, I didn’t even want to, I…I’m so sorry…”

You knew you’d calm down in a minute, but right now you couldn’t help yourself, and it seemed like he understood that. Before you knew it, he’d hugged you tightly, holding you close to his chest. Tousling your hair lightly with one hand, he shushed you softly.

“Shh shh shh…it’s alright, Liebling, I know reflexes when I see them. I shouldn’t have done that—I’ll tell you that it’s me next time, that’s all! If I can patch you up, I can do the same to myself, so…it’ll be like it didn’t even happen!”

You laughed a bit, and felt him rest his chin against the top of your head before both of you pulled apart.

Once again, his hand grasped yours, and he quickly took your other one too.

“Feeling a bit better?”

“Yeah…thanks, Medic. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, (Y/N). Of course.”

________

Spy

Being a close companion of the silent killer, it only made sense that he’d scare you by mistake at some point. Without even meaning to.

You’d even imagined the scenario in your head. And yet. When it actually happened, you still weren’t ready.

Waking up after a series of weird dreams, you went to head downstairs to grab some water and hopefully head back to bed.

Standing there, with the only real light source being the tiny bulb in the back of the fridge, you grabbed a cup and filled it up, not even bothering to sit down to drink it.

Feeling someone brush against your shoulder, you flinched hard and felt your fist go up of its own accord.

It made contact, with a yelp following it.

“Ah!”

“…Spy? Oh no…”

The Spy held one hand over his nose, groaning quietly.

“Hello, (Y/N). You’re up rather early.”

“I’m so sorry, you scared me—”

There was a brief flash of realization over his eyes, and you recognized a bit of shame.

“…you know what, fair enough. I did not think that through.”

Pulling his hand back revealed that he was bleeding quite a bit. “…well, that’s not good. Excuse me.”

Spy was so…matter of fact, about this? It almost put you at ease, but not quite enough. You followed him as he briskly walked to the bathroom, having to scramble along a bit to keep up with him.

“Did I break it?”

“No, I don’t believe so. Breaks hurt much more than this.”

It wasn’t too surprising to hear that someone who was basically a secret agent had broken his nose before.

He looked over at you with confusion flitting across his face, having finally cleaned up most of the blood. Brows furrowed together, he sounded truly puzzled.

“…(Y/N), you didn’t strike me as being afraid of blood.”

“I-I’m not!” You didn’t like how sharply your voice came out, but you couldn’t seem to change it much.

“Well, what’s the matter then? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Spy, I…I punched you. I hurt you.”

“Hmm, debatable really. Punched me, yes. Hurt me? Only for a moment. The bleeding is already stopping.”

You looked at him, bewildered, and felt your face quickly heating up. His expression softened, sighing quietly as the slightest trace of a smile came to his face.

“…Mon coeur (my heart), I’m alright. Please, don’t get yourself upset over it.”

Without thinking about it, you stumbled forward slightly and hugged him. He stepped back a bit at first, surprised, but quickly followed suit, stroking your hair.

“Takes a lot more than that to hurt me. Besides, I took you completely off-guard. I’d argue you just demonstrated sharp reflexes.”

Once Spy pulled back, you realized he was still in that suit.

“Well, at least there’s no blood on your suit.”

With a chuckle, he smirked at you. “Yes, good point.”

“��Why are you fully dressed at this hour anyway? Do you sleep in it?”

Spy rolled his eyes at you. “Absolutely not. I just got back. Late night mission, you see.”

“Ohhhh…”

Leaning against the bathroom counter, a playful tone warmed his voice. “If it will set you at ease, I can regale you with the tale…”

Yes, Spy loved to talk about himself, but this genuinely did seem like it was an attempt to help you calm down. Eagerly, you scrambled to sit on the edge of the tub, playfully resting your chin in your hands as if ready to hang onto every word.

With a snort, he shook his head. “I don’t think this would be a good place for it.”

“Oh!”

Quickly, you got to your feet again, and he bit back a grin as he slipped his arm around your shoulders, heading over to his smoking room.

[champagnefountains]

I have a request if they're still open.

Alastor decides to hire Reader as a radio intern. He first did it for entertainment, sending them out to do ridiculously hard and long tasks for his own amusement, like fetching him coffee from the other side of Hell in a super short period of time or proof reading scripts that he purposely made completely illegible to anyone but himself, but had slowly begun to fall for them the longer they stuck around.

ALASTOR - H.H.

Prompt: Being Alastor's radio intern.

Thank you for your request anon! I hope you'll enjoy this one!

Word count: 1.5k+ words. Genre/other tags: Fluff. Humour. Warnings: None.

You were unfortunate to have your soul be owned by the renowned Radio-Demon. Tough luck. You were merely a desperate soul who needed a major favour to be done by yours truly, and are now forever tied and forced to do his bidding. You initially expected a life-time of torture and pain, but was pleasantly surprised when he had requested for you to be his personal radio-intern-slash-assistant.

"Dear Charlie and I have been so, so busy and I just need an extra hand is all...and that's where you come in!" He chimed, pinching your cheek. Alastor explained that he needed someone to assist in managing his radio-broadcasts and schedules while he was out playing hotelier. And just as you thought that you were off the hook, it turns out that this had been his own, little way of torturing you.

Alastor made you do the most ridiculous and tedious tasks ever – like fetching a cup of coffee from a cafe situating on the other side of Hell, or obtain some weird, obscure item from sketchy shops in the most dangerous and chaotic districts in all the Nine Circles, only for it to have little to no significance to him at all. Of course, you did some actual radio-intern-related tasks, but it didn't make things any easier for you. More so than often, Alastor would give you a stack-pile of his broadcast scripts to proof-read. The only problem was that all of it was mostly illegible, almost appearing like chicken scratch. It was then that you knew for certain he was doing this as some sort of sick entertainment for himself, knowing that he had the neatest penmanship amongst the entire team. Oh, and don't even get started with the ridiculous deadlines!

All in all, Alastor was constantly giving you a hard time. However, you were determined to not let him continue to walk all over you. After some time, you were slowly getting used to his strange requests and behaviours, and managed to find ways to work around them. Oh, he wanted his oddly specific order of coffee? You already had it ordered beforehand, and even had the beans supplied to have it readily brewed in the Hotel. He asked for some random-ass antique item? You had already established some connections during your previous commutes, and will have it delivered on the doorstep the next day. You needed to proof-read his scripts? You've learnt to decipher his hieroglyphics and were able to get them done hours before its deadline, whilst also adding in a few of your own critiques and comments.

Already a couple months in the job and you've already got it in the bag. And if he was being honest, Alastor was surprised with your progress. Dare say that he was even impressed! It was like no matter what he had thrown your way, you were able to catch it with ease. Yes, he had to admit: he did initially hire you for his own entertainment – you were his little play-thing when boredom struck – but you had proved yourself as an important asset and massive help towards him and the Hotel. You even went out of your way to help with tasks in the Hotel, such as tending the front desk with Cherri, assisting in the kitchen with Nifty, and even managing some group activities alongside Charlie and Vaggie.

You were incredibly hard-working, selfless and compassionate. Alastor and everyone in the Hotel could see it. It initially ticked Alastor off, seeing that his plans were foiled and were tailored to your favour, but the more you stuck around and spent time with himself and everyone else, he genuinely began enjoying your company. And vice versa. When he wasn't being the overbearing and unreasonable boss that he can be, you actually found yourself having fun in Alastor's presence, now often chuckling at his jokes and schemes.

But that wasn't the only thing that changed.

Alastor came to a stark realisation that he had developed feelings for you. It was a foreign feeling to him, which initially confused him at first but it filled him with such warmth that his cold-heart craved for. He found himself seeking your presence constantly (more than usual, that is), always making an effort to talk to you (again, more than usual), and at times, forcing you to stay in his office while he worked on his scripts, and even have you sit through his broadcasts. Even if it wasn't obvious, Alastor's feelings were overwhelming him with each passing day – he didn't know how to go about it. 

So Alastor resorted to what he does with most things – in straight-forward and curt fashion, of course. 

"S-Sir, you...y-you want me to do what?" You stuttered, a rapid and violent blush suddenly taking over your face. "I said, I want you to go out with me!" Alastor repeated nonchalantly, all the while jokingly tapping a finger on his microphone, "hello, hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing!" You couldn't help but gawk at the deer-demon and his bluntness. He had summoned you to his office out-of-the-blue, requesting your presence urgently in the midst of an activity session you were co-hosting with Vaggie. With the way he went about it, you would've thought that there was some sort of emergency. Not...well, not this.

"...Go out with you? Like...on a walk, or something?" You slowly reiterated, trying to get a grasp on what he was trying to say. Alastor hums to himself, tapping his chin in thought. "Well, if that's what you prefer to do on our date, then I suppose that would be quite swell! We can fit that right in once we've had our dinner," He nods after a brief moment’s contemplation. It nearly sent your eyes popping out of its sockets. "Woah, woah! A-A date?! You mean, a date?! With–with me?!" You exclaimed, pointing to yourself in disbelief. The Overlord rose a brow.

"Why, of course! You're the only one in the room that I'm currently talking to, dear! Oh, hoh, you're quite silly, aren't you?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "B-But...don't you think this is like–I don't know, a bit unprofessional, sir?" You timidly ask, picking at your fingers, "you are my boss, after all..."

Alastor tilted his head to the side, humming, "Hm, perhaps. But I believe we’ve already crossed that boundary long ago, don’t you think? We’ve treated each other like good, ol’ comrades rather than just co-workers these past few months, have we not?” You blink. “I…I guess we have,” you blankly affirm.  

“Right? So, with that being said, I can't help but want something more. I do wish to properly court you. After all, it's not everyday a mortal soul such as yourself could pique my interest. That means to say that you’re quite exceptional, dear!” You couldn’t help but nervously chuckle at the flattery, shaking your head, “w-well, I don’t know about that–” 

“Oh, none of that nonsense!” He suddenly swoops in, waving a hand and shaking his head, “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who has managed to keep up at my level the way you have. It’s very impressive and admirable – take my word for it!” 

Alastor then suddenly evades your personal space, leaning down to eye-to-eye level with you. It startles you momentarily but you decidedly maintain eye-contact with him, too nervous to look away. It causes his grin to widen. "And I can bravely assume that you wouldn't mind taking up my offer...as you haven't yet made any effort or comment to decline it, hm?" He smartly comments, looking at you expectedly. 

Well..damn, he got you there, didn’t he? Because in truth, you did enjoy the playful dynamic you've established with him. You found satisfaction in the little praises and smiles Alastor would send your way whenever you accomplished something and slowly, you found yourself valuing his opinion of you. You then tried to up yourself with each passing day, and it was just as shocking for you when you came to terms with your own feelings. 

And that’s how you found yourself being courted by the Radio-Demon himself. 

After that, nothing much had changed in your dynamic with Alastor – you still continued being his radio-assistant. Well, other than the fact that he had become more openly sweet towards you. This meant calling you a variety of pet-names and giving you a little less work for you when he knows you’ve worked yourself hard enough. Small pecks and kisses will be rewarded when you would hand him his cup of coffee every morning, and he would invite you to join and sit on his lap when he would do his frequent broadcasts. He would also teasingly ask you to call him ‘sir’, knowing that it’ll fluster you so much – he just loved and enjoyed seeing you turn red all over. He even stopped with his hieroglyphics, reverting back to his usual handwriting when writing his scripts – the joke’s gone a bit stale, he says. And at the end of a long, tiring day, Alastor would have you in his arms as you happily basked in each other’s company.

[floralpascal]

The Best Lies

Summary: After you join the 141, Ghost does everything he can to fight his growing feelings for you. But during a night out with you, he finds it harder and harder to ignore.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.9k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: a little angst, Ghost agonizes over having feelings, canon-level violence, blood, alcohol/drinking, kissing, semi-public dry humping, fingering, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), secret relationship

A/N: This truly is 50% Ghost trying to ignore the fact that he's down bad and 50% depraved smut. Writing Ghost losing his mind over having feelings is truly so fun. I hope you all enjoy!

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

Ghost had convinced himself that he had done more than just nip his issue at the bud. He thought he had pulled it out by the roots and set it aflame, never to bother him again. 

And why would he think otherwise? He had done that same thing time and time again, and it had always worked. This time, he thought, would be no different. He had washed his hands of the issue and could continue on like before. 

The problem was that he was dead wrong. This time was different. 

You were different. 

You were the newest member of the 141, a sniper and one of the best hand-to-hand combat specialists he had ever seen. You were a strong woman who fought hard and fast, with an eye for precision. Price had been trying to get you onto the team for months, telling Ghost that he was convinced you were the perfect addition. Price had been right; you were perfect. You fit right in with the guys, kept up with their banter, and were as tough as nails. When you worked, you had a focus that was so zeroed-in that Soap and Gaz had started to liken you to Ghost. 

By all means, you were the best addition to the team that they could have asked for. You weren’t the problem. Ghost was the problem. 

What had started as a small acknowledgment of your attractiveness had slowly grown into something more. It was your quick sarcastic quips that battled with his own, your soothing demeanor and featherlight touch as you patched him up, your ability to make a terrible situation seem better than it was - the list went on. There was something there between the two of you, a connection that he had never experienced before. No, his attraction wasn’t just surface-level, it was something deeper. 

It was something that he wasn’t supposed to feel - on many levels. 

Ghost never got involved, period. He could acknowledge when a woman was attractive, have a night where he gave in to the physical aspect of it, but it never grew to anything. He didn’t let it. He would dispose of those feelings as soon as he registered them. In his line of work and in his experience, feelings were a liability - a luxury that he would always pay the price for. They complicated everything and unusually ended in pain. In short, they were a weakness that needed to be disposed of. 

What was more, you were his subordinate, his teammate. He was a professional, he never let himself feel anything like that for his subordinates. Hell, he barely even had what could be classified as friendships with his subordinates. Soap and Gaz had been the first he had ever shown his face to, and that was after fighting by their side for years. 

The bottom line was that Ghost didn’t let himself get distracted, much less get distracted by a subordinate who was just doing her bloody job. Yet, in a few short months, you had flipped everything Ghost thought about himself on its head. It was disorienting. 

Once he realized what was happening to him, he tried to put a stop to it. He worked with you when he had to, interacted with you when he had to, but besides that, he largely steered clear of you. Whether it was downtime at the base or a night out with the other 141 guys, if you were there, Ghost wasn’t. It was the only solution he had. 

If only it had worked. 

Even staying clear of you couldn’t stop the spread of whatever had taken hold of him. He slipped one day, imagining what your lips would feel like against his while you talked to Price, barely even realizing that he had been staring at your lips the entire time. Not too long after that, you had tried to get his attention while on an assignment, opting to whisper a low, breathless “Ghost!” into the comm. Going straight to the comm in his right ear, the low drawl of his name from your lips was almost like a siren’s call, sending a shiver racing down his spine as he responded back to you. Another day, he caught a glimpse of you training with Soap, watching as you passed his guard and kneeled between his legs as you continued to fight. The sight shouldn’t have sent his blood boiling or sent his thoughts straight into the gutter - you were just training. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw you look up at him as he swiftly left the training room, your piercing gaze following him as you helped Soap up from the floor. 

He didn’t feel anything for you. He didn’t feel anything for you. He repeated it like a mantra, like he could make it come true if only he said it enough, with enough conviction.

So why did he still have a knot in his chest every time he saw you? Every time you spoke through the comms directly into his ear, your voice strong and smooth as honey? Every time your eyes locked with his, an unreadable expression on your face?

He didn’t feel anything for you. He almost made himself believe it.

“Styx, get the fuck out of here!” He bellowed at you. “Leave me! That’s an order!”

It was a stealth job gone south nearly a year and a half after you joined the team, their intel leading them into a pretty nasty situation. Almost everyone had long retreated to safety. 

Ghost was hit, blood streaming from his right thigh. The bullet was still in the wound, making it bad enough to where he could barely put weight on it, considerably slowing down the two of you. He was a liability now, putting you both at risk of being killed or captured. You stayed with him nonetheless, shoulders set with determination. 

“Like hell,” you scoffed as you crouched down to where Ghost sat. Your face was dirty from the fight, your clothes scuffed and torn with a slice cutting through your sleeve from a bullet graze. He tried to push you away, continuing to order you to fall back with the others, but you refused, your burning gaze snapping up to meet his. “Either I get you out of here or we keep bickering right here until they find us and kill us! Your choice.”

Of course you wouldn’t leave him behind. It’s who you were. It’s what made you you, even if it was infuriating to Ghost. Even if he would have done the exact same thing you were if it was you with a bullet wound instead of him. 

His head starting to go fuzzy from the blood loss, his focus wavered.

“Hey,” you called, snapping your fingers in front of him before you started to check his wound. “Eyes on me, Ghost. Stay with me.”

After examining his thigh, you clicked your tongue before finally deciding that the makeshift bandage he had fashioned would be enough to suffice for now. 

Ghost let out a groan, finally letting you pull him up and wrap one of his arms around your shoulders. You took some of his weight, helping him limp a little faster now. He was putting you in more danger, that he knew. If you would’ve just listened to him, your chances of going undetected and making it out of there would’ve been drastically higher. But your grip on the strap of his belt to help ease the weight off of his leg was firm, refusing to let him go.

That same feeling nagged in the back of his mind as you dragged him with you, the blood loss making it harder to ignore the thoughts that he usually shoved down. 

You murmured words of encouragement to him as you walked for what felt like a lifetime.  “Come on, big guy, just a little more. Just a little faster.”

Ghost huffed a small laugh. He was in a haze now, letting words slip past his lips that he would normally have guarded against. “Can’t be sayin’ stuff like that, love. Might give a man the wrong idea.”

Your head snapped to look at him, surprise written in the pinch of your brows. Ghost found enough clarity then to shut up, the reality of what he had just said slowly setting in. Not only had he voiced a sentiment he had barely been willing to admit to himself, he had voiced it to you. 

You examined him for a moment with a confused, analyzing eye. Finally, you huffed out a laugh, your grip tightening on his belt as you readjusted his arm on your shoulder. Your eyes slid over his masked face, a flicker of amusement creeping into your gaze before you turned to look at your surroundings again.

After that, Ghost tried to hold on to every bit of self-control he had left to keep his mouth shut.

You both made it out that day, the two of you banged up and worse for wear, but alive. Ghost had been pretty out of it by the time you got him back to the exfil point. How you had managed to drag the both of you out of there while holding up a man as large as Ghost, he could barely remember, the whole event becoming fuzzier in his mind past the point when he had let those words slip to you.

The shot to his thigh had been a nasty one, leaving him bedridden in the medical area for the next few weeks, per the doctors’ orders. Price made sure Ghost didn’t try to disregard them. 

Ghost told Price what you had done, wanting you to get the credit you deserved for your bravery. Still, it didn’t stop him from thinking that you very well could’ve gotten yourself killed for him. The thought pulled at the familiar knot in his chest.

“What’re you in for?”

Ghost followed the voice to the doorway of his room only to find you leaned against the frame, a small, teasing smile on your lips. You were cleaned up now. Having donned a fresh set of clothes, you now wore a plain black T-shirt tucked into camouflage tac pants. Despite your teasing attitude, your eyelids were heavy, like you had barely slept in the two days you had been back on base. A thick bandage poked out from under your shirtsleeve, covering the area where you had been grazed. Other than that, you seemed like you were in one piece from the entire ordeal. 

Why did that revelation alone release some of the tension in his chest?

“Jus’ a scratch,” he rumbled. He couldn’t help but humor you a little. He gestured to the hospital bed and monitors surrounding him as he huffed, “Bit of an overkill if you ask me.”

You chuckled, pushing yourself off the door frame before coming closer. Voice laced with sarcasm, you said, “Yeah, okay, tough guy.”

It was quiet for a moment, the silence thick and heavy over the two of you. Your eyes slid over him, taking in his condition, your gaze almost too much to handle.

He didn’t feel anything for you. Under the weight of your scrutiny, the thought was more like a pleading prayer.

“You should’ve left me out there,” he asserted, trying to ignore his own thoughts. “You disobeyed a direct order.”

You rolled your eyes, your hands moving defensively to your hips. “I made a call and saved your life. You’d think that would count for something.”

“That wasn’t your call to make.”

“Listen, just because you can’t stand me doesn’t mean that I can’t make a call. You-”

“Is that what you bloody think?” Ghost spat, surprise creeping into his voice.

For the first time, he saw you hesitate. You blinked for a moment. 

“How could I not?” You finally retorted, stepping closer to him, your tired eyes alight with anger. “You avoid me like the damn plague, it seems like you can barely stand me, and you second-guess every call I make. Yet you treat all the guys like your brothers. You trust them when they make a gutsy call. And what? I’m supposed to think you respect me at all?”

Of course that’s what it looked like to you. You had taken his distance to mean that he didn’t want you here, that he didn’t think as highly of you as he did the others.

“I’ll only say this once.” Ghost leaned forward, his eyes locking with yours through the holes in his mask. “You’re wrong. You’ve got my damn respect - have had it for a while, even before this mission. I think you’re one of the toughest people here. But I still gave you an order. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. And that would’ve been on me.”

Whatever you were expecting to hear from him, it wasn’t that. You appraised him, squinting a little as you did. When you finally spoke, your voice was quieter, but still even. Still strong. “I’d do it again.”

Now, it was Ghost who was at a loss for words. He tried to ignore the intensity in your voice, the certainty. As if that wasn’t exactly his issue - that you would be willing to put yourself on the line for him again.

“Y’know,” you mused as you turned and walked back to the door, “usually people just say ‘thank you’ when you save their life.”

With one last glance at him over your shoulder, you were gone. 

~~~

In the months following your confrontation, Ghost stopped avoiding you at all costs, letting himself be closer with you again. The fact that you had taken his distance to mean that he thought less of you gnawed at him in a way that was damn near painful. Ghost’s issues were his own - he wasn’t going to take them out on you anymore by avoiding you. He shoved those thoughts for you down into the recesses of his brain, thinking that this time, the tactic might actually work. 

You seemed happy about his change in demeanor. While you said nothing to point it out, he saw how you gradually relaxed around him over time. You were quick to joke with him now, your sarcastic quips as precise as your aim, as if you knew that your banter made it easier for him. You were lighter with him now, ignoring the weight of that mission. Most of the time, he could, too.

Most of the time.

I’d do it again. The words rang in his ears each time he saw you now. They dug at him, called to him. It was maddening. The weight of those words remained heavy on his chest, their meaning something he was wary to look too closely into.

Tonight, he found you at a small pub a few streets over from the hotel the 141 had been staying at in some small Irish town, your elbows resting on the sleek wooden bar as you swirled a whiskey in its glass. You seemed deep in thought, your eyes only half-watching the amber liquid spin under the pub’s dim, warm yellow lights.

“The guys all leave?” Ghost asked, pulling you from your thoughts. A small smile played at the edge of your lips as you turned towards him, gently placing the glass back on the table.

“Yeah, they all left me,” you sighed dramatically. “Price went to see an old friend here in town. Soap and Gaz wanted to go check out a pub a couple blocks over from here.”

Ghost paused for a minute to order a bourbon from the bartender. “And you didn’t wanna go?”

You shook your head. “The place sounded a little too loud for my liking.”

Ghost made a noise in solidarity, picking up the glass the bartender had placed down for him. Your taste in pubs, he had learned, was close to both his and Price’s: laidback and quiet. Sure enough, this pub was just that. It was an old vintage-style pub, one that didn’t attract a loud, rowdy crowd. The small number of patrons were mostly older people - locals, by the looks of them - laughing softly as most of them paid attention to the football game on the television. It was the kind of pub people went to when they were looking for a warm, peaceful night. It made it easier to relax a little in this strange pub in this strange city. In your line of work, that was a difficult feat to accomplish. 

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you for a while, both of you nursing your drinks.

But something was on Ghost’s mind, something that had been sitting with him for months. He broke the silence to say only, “Thank you.”

You turned to look at Ghost, an eyebrow raised. You hesitated for a moment, seemingly unsure that you had heard him correctly. “Huh? What for?”

“I never said it,” he explained simply, voice even and calm. “For savin’ my life ‘n all.”

You appraised him for a moment, taken aback by his admission. The two of you had barely talked about what happened that day. Finally, you nodded. “Still think I was wrong for disobeying your order?”

“No,” he admitted, quickly adding, “just don’t make a habit of it, yeah?”

You nodded, chuckling a little before you took the final sip of your drink. “Of course.”

It was quiet for another moment before you set your empty glass down with a clink. When the bartender came back around, you handed him enough money to pay for both your drinks and Ghost’s. Then, you turned back to Ghost and said, “You sure are… talkative when you get shot.”

Ghost averted his eyes from you at that, opting instead to watch the other patrons as they celebrated their team’s goal. His only response was, “It was blood loss.”

When he looked back to you, your piercing eyes were trained on his. You seemed like you were trying to piece him together, to figure out the puzzle of him. 

“Blood loss or not, I never took you as the kind of guy to have his head in the gutter like that,” you teased, your tone light. Underneath the teasing tone though, laid something more serious. Something Ghost hoped he was wrong about. 

“I’m not.” It was a lie. He knew it. The worst part was that you knew it, too. 

A smirk played at the edge of your lips at that.

“Sure you’re not, Ghost,” you teased. You stood from your seat then before you leaned in close to Ghost’s ear, your hand gliding along his shoulder. Voice near a whisper, sweet and honeyed, you added, “Can’t be saying things like that, then. Might give a girl the wrong idea.”

With that, you were gone. By the time Ghost turned around, you were halfway to the door, shooting him a sultry, burning look over your shoulder. It was a look he had never seen from you before, a look he was sure was aided by the whiskey you had been drinking. It was an invitation extended to him under the dim yellow lights of the pub.

It was the first blatant sign he had seen that you were interested in him like that - that it hadn’t just been him afflicted by whatever this was. 

In the split second your eyes locked with his, a million thoughts ran through his mind, all saying that he definitely shouldn’t take the invitation, shouldn’t follow you. For one, it would undo all the work he had done to ignore his own thoughts about you. Not to mention the fact that he was your superior and all the hardline rules that very clearly stated that he shouldn’t unless he wanted to risk his entire career. 

But what if he did? What if he gave in to you this one time? What if all he needed was a night with you to finally get you out of his damn head? He could have you once and finally be able to get over the hold you had on him. To let go, maybe all he had to do was give in.

Fuck.

Ghost abandoned his seat in a moment. Weaving his large frame through the tables and patrons, his eyes were trained on you as you slipped through the front door. He caught it right as it swung closed from you, hot on your tail. Pushing out into the cold, crisp night air, he found you barely two steps away from him. You turned when you saw him, a small smile blooming across your face.

Ghost was on you, his hands grabbing your hips as he pulled the both of you into the alley. Shrouded in darkness, he pressed your back to the brick wall of the pub before shoving the lower part of his mask just above his mouth. Before he could even move again, your hand came to wrap around the back of his head, pulling his lips to yours in a rough, messy kiss. 

It was better than he imagined. You were better than he imagined, the feeling of your plush lips on his almost making him forget why he had held himself back from you for so long. 

He caged you in against the wall, one hand grasping against the rough, scratchy surface as he leaned in while the other held your head in place. You pulled at him, fervent and insistent as you drew him ever closer to you. Shifting in your hold, he slotted his knee between your legs, maneuvering so that his large, muscular thigh rested against your clothed center. When you gasped against him, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue along yours, the thick, heady taste of your whiskey mixing with his bourbon. It was the taste of you, though, that was intoxicating. More so than any drink he could have ordered. 

As you ground down against his thigh, your tongue met his with equal fervor. And while you grasped the back of Ghost’s mask in your desperation, he knew you would make no effort to pull it from him. How he knew that was a mystery even to him. All he knew was that the way you tugged at his hair through the mask sent him careening over the edge of a chasm that he couldn’t see the bottom of.

His hand left the wall beside you to firmly grasp your waist, urging you to increase the speed of your hips against him. Flexing his thigh, another gasp fell from your mouth. It was maddening, a sound he knew he had to draw out of you again, only louder and unobstructed. The sound shot through him like adrenaline, fast and exhilarating. 

For the first time in a long time, Ghost felt truly awake. It was like a fire had been lit in his veins and you were the gasoline fueling the raging flames. 

Suddenly, a loud group of people passed by the alley on the adjoining street, voices ringing out in conversation. All at once, Ghost was reminded that you were both out in the open, albeit tucked into a dark alley. You broke from the kiss, your mind seemingly on the same track.

“My room,” you offered breathlessly. “At the hotel.”

“Lead the way, Styx.”

You made the quick walk back to the small hotel with Ghost in tow, winding through the dimly illuminated streets and alleys with an illicit sort of stealth and swiftness, the both of you keeping an eye out for any of the other guys along the way. While you both knew that you wouldn’t see any of them again tonight, neither of you could seem to help it. You both knew you weren’t supposed to be doing this. 

Yet, neither of you put a stop to whatever this was either.

Ghost had you pressed up against the door to your room the moment you locked it, your back to his chest and arms extended to brace yourself against the sleek black wood. His mask once again pushed to just under his nose, he lavished hungrily at your neck just below the ear, earning another sharp gasp from you. His hands dipped to the front of your jeans, racing to blindly undo them. Movements deft, efficient, and precise, his fingers were quickly past the undone line of your jeans and slipping under the band of your underwear.

“You want this?” he rasped, both because he needed the confirmation that you were completely in and because he wanted to hear the way you would sound.

“Yes,” you rushed almost immediately, a newfound desperation lining your voice. You moved your ass back against him, pressing yourself against his covered erection and he had to hold himself back from rutting into you. “Fuck, Ghost…”

Ghost nipped at your ear as he stilled your hips, his right hand drawing lower under your underwear. 

“Easy,” he warned. ”Gotta open you up first.”

With that, his fingers finally met your core, gliding through your soaked folds. He groaned at the feeling of you already dripping for him, your underwear even damp with your arousal. He dragged some of your slick up from your entrance until he found the small bundle of nerves that had you rolling your hips forward in his grasp. Completely encircling you from behind with his body, he held you flush to him while he rubbed hard and fast circles between your thighs. 

Melting into his touch, you started to move your left hand from the door to grasp for him. His free hand stopped you in only a moment, grabbing your wrist and replacing it back in its previous position.

“Hands stay there,” he ordered. For once, you actually listened, opting instead to claw your fingers against the wood as he slipped two fingers past your entrance and into your heat. He moved achingly slow at first, letting you feel the way his fingers dragged along your walls, filling and stretching your tight cunt already. You moaned, your head falling back to rest against his broad chest. 

“Ghost… Ghost, faster,” you pleaded, voice airy. The satisfaction he got from your desperate request was all too strong, more than he had ever experienced before. It shot through him like a drug, fast and disorienting. 

He picked up the pace, steadily building up to a pace that had your knees ready to give out. Wrapping his free arm around your middle, he held you steady while he wrecked you with his fingers. He tried not to think about the fact that it had only been a few months ago that it had been you holding him up, that now he got to return the favor to you in a much more pleasurable way. 

When you cried out for him, Ghost whispered into your ear, parroting your own words from that fateful mission, “Just a little more.” 

With that, he added a third finger, holding his blistering pace. The sounds you made were utterly debauched, utterly sinful. He should have been worried about how loud you were - surely others in the hotel could hear your moans. You would be lucky if there weren’t complaints to the management by morning. It was reckless… but Ghost couldn’t bring himself to care. He was too enraptured by the ringing of your voice as you fell apart beneath his touch. 

It only took another minute for you to come undone around him, your muscles tensing around his fingers, squeezing him as your mouth fell open in a silent scream while he worked you through it. 

After you had begun to relax, a sweet whine leaving your lips, he finally slowed his pace to a stop. He pulled out of you then, drawing his hand up to his mouth to suck them clean. Eyes blown wide with lust, you turned to watch him as he slowly pulled his fingers out of his mouth, the tang of your cum one that he was sure he wouldn’t be able to forget. You watched his display until the tip of his middle finger left his lips. Then, you turned so swiftly he could barely register it and pushed up to kiss him again, your tongue dipping into his mouth to taste yourself as you threw your arms over his shoulders. 

A groan left Ghost, one that surprised even him. It was so much. The taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your body under his hands, and the way you grasped at his back to pull him closer all had his head swimming, his usual cool-headed clarity quickly becoming muddled. His heart was hammering in his chest, his cock so hard it was aching in his jeans.

Alarm bells rang in his head, telling him that he was in too deep. Never had he ever been this… wrecked from sex before he had even gotten his cock out of his underwear. Something was different this time. That feeling was back in his chest - the one he wouldn’t put a name to. 

But he couldn’t turn back now. His sense was far too gone for that. 

Ghost effortlessly lifted you up from the floor before carrying you to the bed. When your back lightly hit the mattress, your mouth open in a surprised oh, he was already on top of you. He helped you peel the clothes from your body, his own clothes soon joining yours on the floor, save for the mask. 

You looked so beautiful like this, spread out under Ghost like a dream. It was like every one of his long-ignored thoughts about you had come to life. Your hungry eyes, the way he could see every dip and plane and curve of your body like this, the way you practically glowed in the moonlight that poured into the darkened room… the sight made him finally let go of all his inhibitions about having you. He would deal with the consequences later. 

Suddenly, he realized that he had just been staring at you. 

You quirked an eyebrow at him, an easy smile on your lips. “Enjoying the view?”

In lieu of a reply, he leaned down, grabbed your chin, and smashed his lips into yours as he ground his hips against you, his cock sliding along your slickened folds.

“Ghost,” you breathed against him. He wished you wouldn’t say his name like that - like he was something good for you. Yet, it still only made his cock ache more. “Just - fuck - just fuck me already.”

“This isn’t gonna be soft, Styx,” he warned, lining his cock up with your entrance. 

You gave him a small smirk, eyes full of mischief as you replied, “Good.”

Fucking hell, you were trying to kill him. 

Ghost pushed inside of you slowly at first, reveling in the way you felt around him as you squeezed him, all molten heat and velvet. He draped himself over you, one hand planted on either side of your head, and watched as your eyes rolled back, your breathing becoming ragged once again. Your nails bit into his shoulder blades as you tried to adjust to him, the sting ever so satisfying against his skin. 

“You’re s-so - ah - so big,” you mumbled, almost to yourself. 

Buried to the hilt in you, he waited until he felt you begin to relax.

Then, Ghost threw himself into the flames. 

He almost drew out of you completely before slamming back into you. And if he thought your sounds before were something to behold, the moans you let out now were nothing short of divine. Again. And again. And again.

He fucked you into the mattress so hard the bed shook and groaned with the force of each thrust, devolving into one never-ending cacophony as his speed increased. Your tits bounced with each impact and he dropped his head to take one nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with his tongue before moving to the other. Using one hand to hold onto his shoulders for dear life, you roughly fisted the sheets with the other, searching for any point of stability you could find as your world rocked. 

When he lifted from your chest, he found your head tilted back on the mattress, neck outstretched and straining. Your eyes were squeezed shut, your face contorted in pure pleasure. 

Yet, something gnawed at Ghost, an urge so deep and so powerful he was useless to hold out against.

“Eyes on me, Styx.”

Your eyes blinked open, fluttering for a moment as you tried to refocus your gaze. Finally, your eyes locked with his, as piercing as ever. That feeling flared in his chest again, his next few thrusts even harder than before. It was like he was drowning, only in the best possible way.

He watched the force of each thrust as it rocked through you, every twitch of your face and desperate grasp of your hand in the sheets. He watched the way you drank him in, eyes hooded and hungry as they held his gaze. 

“Ghost.” 

It was a plea. A demand. One he was all too eager to give in to.

Connected your lips again as one of his hands wound up to the hand you had fisted in the sheets. His fingers wrapping around your wrist, he guided your hand above your head and pinned it to the mattress. He felt you groan into the kiss before you slipped your tongue into his mouth, heated and messy. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was all too much. He was enjoying this all too much. You were too good, too addicting. 

You were taking him deeper than he had ever been. Your cunt threatened to pull him under, the pleasure of your tight walls too intense. He was only a step away from the edge, having to hold himself back from going over before you. 

Ghost used his free hand to grab one of your legs and hook it over his hip.

Like this, his movement told you. 

Taking the hint through your haze, you brought your other leg up around his hip and locked them together behind him. 

Instantly, you broke from the kiss, a broken moan ringing in his ears and vibrating against his lips. They flowed freely from you now, the beautiful sound filling the room. He couldn’t hold in his own grunts anymore, one for every snap of his hips against yours. 

Ghost felt you tense a moment before it happened, your body going rigid and your moan abruptly cut. Then, you were squeezing him so tight, it ripped a deep, guttural moan from his chest. The force of your orgasm rocked through you, seeming like you were trying to pull him over that same edge with you. Surely enough, with a few more rocks of his hips, he felt that heat as he released, coating your walls with his cum, your release taking every bit of him with you. 

Before he could pull out of you, spent and panting, your hand found his covered cheek, the cloth warm under your touch, and guided his lips back to yours again. Your kiss was slow. Deliberate. Heavy. A hint of something deeper on your lips. 

And as he ducked out of your room that night, the moonlight seeming dimmer in his room than it had been when it was illuminating your face, Ghost tried to push all his thoughts of you away for good. 

He had his fill and now he was done. 

He could move on. 

He didn’t feel anything for you. 

They were all good lies. For the best lies were the lies he told himself. 

[symp4nat]

Deep Questions?

Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

authors note: guys its a quarter past midnight i needa sleep i have church tmrw help

word count: almost 700 words hoorayy

Clarisse laid in her bed, with you laying on top of her, as she stroked your hair. "Don't you think we should be productive tod-"

You clapped a hand over her mouth. "Shut up. Today's one of the only days we don't have to do anything, so please, let's just stay in bed."

You buried your face into her neck and she tried not to giggle as your breath tickled her neck. "C," you quietly questioned.

She hummed in response. "Where do you see yourself in 10 years," you asked. She gave you a funny look and then answered, "Why?"

You shrugged. "Just answer it." She nodded and said, "Well, hopefully done with college, maybe I'll work at Camp Jupiter... hoping I'm alive till then." You slapped her arm. She continued, "And maybe I'll get an apartment at Jupiter."

You lifted your head. "On Jupiter?" She laughed and shook her head. "At Camp Jupiter." You nodded as you understood what Clarisse meant. "What about kids," you asked. Clarisse laid there in complete silence for a minute and then she shrugged, "Married to you, a few pets and kids later on."

You tried holding back a smile. "You'd wanna get married?" She shrugged with a nonchalant look on her face, "Yeah?"

You went back to your previous spot next to her neck and she asked, "Y/N/N?" You kissed her neck softly. "What's your favourite part about me?"

With an eager look on your face, you lifted your head. You fully sat up as your body straddled her waist. You gazed into Clarisse's gentle brown eyes. "Um... physical or personality?" Clarisse grinned and cooed, "Aww, you're the sweetest..."

You averted your face. "Shut up," you said as you tried to cover your blush.

Clarisse placed one hand at the bottom of your back and used the other to tilt your head towards her. "Both."

You gulped and said, "I guess... your eyes? They're very pretty. Or maybe your arms, they give very good hugs. Personality.... you act tough, but you're a softie, I think it's very cute."

Clarisse made eye contact with you. "First off, I'm not soft. Secondly, thank you, you're very kind. Then what's your favourite part of me that you like to kiss?"

Your face turned red. "Your nose? Or neck?" You looked down at her stomach and then whined, "Why am I the one answering all of these questions, why can't you?"

Clarisse gently laughed. "Fine, what do you wanna know?"

With a grin, you answered, "All of it!"

She laughed and said, "Well, for starters, I enjoy kissing your forehead-" You cut her off, "I like when you kiss my head." She nodded, "I know, that's why I do it. I'd say... I love your hands. I know that sounds sexual, but I love holding them, it's just so... it makes me happy, y'know?"

You nodded and tried to hold back a smile. She continued, "I love your kind and giving personality. And how you love hugs."

"You're so cute," you cooed as you cupped your girlfriend's face. "I'm not cute," Clarisse grumped. You giggled, "You're just proving my point right now.."

You scooted your body down and laid back in your spot next to Clarisse's neck. Her hands found their way under your shirt soon and she rubbed your back. You gently closed your eyes and she quickly noticed, especially as you shook your head.

"Go to sleep, mamas, you deserve it," Clarisse mumbled against your hair. You shook your head. "We barely get days off, this is our last one for what, 7 months? I wanna stay up and hang out," you said with a yawn.

"Bed time, goodnight," Clarisse commanded. You whined, "Please, I wanna hang out.."

Clarisse shook her head, "Nu uh, we can hang out another day, this is sleep time. We're still hanging out, just sleeping." She kissed your head and you pouted. "Fine. Night night."

You both quietly drifted off to sleep, just for Clarisse's siblings to see you both in her bed in the corner, snoring away. Her reaction to seeing the pictures they took was funny. But she can tell you another day.

[scorpioriesling]

Hello! Do you think you're going to continue writing part 5 of " invisible strings" with eris? I really loved this series! Thank you

Invisible String - Part 5

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Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): Please be advised; this part might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: My apologies, this took forever for me to finish writing for you all (I've had so much on my plate lately). This part IS SHORT, HOWEVER I'm literally already working on the next part and wanted to give you guys at least what I had done so you knew I was indeed working on it! Lol. I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't read the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- I hope you are excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @mellowmusings @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori @dannul @velarisdusk @lamarmotta @paintedbyshadows @i-know-i-can @adventure-awaits13 @acourtofbatboydreams (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

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The Autumn Court experienced the changing seasons like any other in Prythian. Spring was still spring, there was still snow in the winter -- but, the current state of dreary, grayness that took over the sky and stretched beyond the court's borders was quite the contrast to a usual week in July.

Perhaps, it was a reflection of the inner turmoil seeded in those residing in the Forrest House.

"Y/N," Riley whines. "When will the sun come back?"

You sigh, wondering the same.

"I don't know Riles. I truly don't."

She huffs, her fingers reaching for her the mason jar sitting in the middle of the table. The wilting flower inside has lost the vibrant orange coloring on its petals from last week, now replaced with wilting brown ones.

"My flower is yucky with no sun on it." She frowns. You pat her head as she inspects the plant, your shoulders stiffening when you hear the front door open and close quietly.

"Daddyyyyy," Riley groans. "When is the sun coming out?" She trills, hopping off the dining room chair and making way for the front door. It seems she heard him come in too, as she makes her way toward the foyer.

The two of you had gone the entire week with as little communication as possible -- a whole lot of "yep"s and "mhm"s and nods and short debriefings. Since the whole closet incident from the week prior, you hadn't gotten the courage to talk with him again anyways; he'd been so cross with you, so irritated. Your cheeks heated at the thought, how embarassed you'd felt that night. The shame.

Honestly, the whole thing made you a bit angry.

You take a deep breath as footsteps approach, their hushed, mindless conversation drowned out by your own thoughts clouding your headspace. It's not until Eris is standing right in front of you that you come back to reality.

"Play tea party?"

You glance down, taking in the little one's innocent expression from down below. You give her a soft smile, looking to Eris quickly before returning her gaze.

"I'd be honored, dear -- would you go set it up? I'll come join you in a few minutes. Let me talk to your dad first." Riley nods, skipping down the hallway toward her bedroom. Eris looses a sigh, passing toward the kitchen island and leaning against it before looking to you again.

"So..." He says, folding his arms across his chest. You suck in a breath, prepared to hand it to him -- ask him what the Hell all that disrespect was for, what the deal is with the gowns, what was going on between the two of you, all of it.

But, your eyes catch on the wilting stem in the glass jar still sat on the table. You stall a moment, every angry thought in your head receeding like the tides when you consider what could be a more imortant topic of conversation in this very moment.

"So..." You begin, taking a step toward him. He watches you, his face expressionless, as you continue. "I... I've been thinking. Riley is, almost five, and... well, it is the last week of July..."

He simply nods, as though saying go on without saying it. You can't help but roll your eyes, stepping to stand right across from him in the space between the island and the kitchen counter.

"I think she should be enrolled in school."

His brow twitches at this, the most you've gotten from him all week. It's silent for longer than necessary, almost uncomfortable, so you start again.

"She's asking me things, Eris, that she needs a proper teacher for-"

"No."

You startle, blinking as his face returns to that look of emotionless stone.

"W-what?"

"I said no." He shrugs, staring you straight in the eye like it isn't negotiable.

"...Okay, well, I want you to hear me out." You say, trying to remain calm. "She wants to learn. She's inquisitive, and smart, and she-"

"I know she's smart." He cuts in. You huff, your brow furrowing.

"Eris, you're not even listening to me." You can't help the way your voice pitches, but his brows flatten into a straight line.

"I don't need to hear it, Y/N -- she has you. We can hire a teacher to come here if you want. But no, she isn't going to a public school where Gods know what could happen to her." He says, his low tone rising with each sentence.

You push off the counter, folding your arms across your chest. "She needs the social interaction with other kids her age, Eris. You can't keep her locked up in here-"

"I'm her father," he says angrily, leaning toward you. "I think I know, what she needs."

Once the words leave his mouth, his face softens as though he realizes what he's said and how he has acted. You stand still, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. Never has he acted so defensive, not even with the damned dresses -- but this, this was on a whole different level.

You watch as his expression changes from rage to pure worry, his concerned eyes searching yours in desperation. You can't help but look away, only glancing back when his fingers hesitantly reach for your arm.

"Y/N, I didn't mean-"

"Don't." You yank your shoulder back, sneering up at him. He drops his hand slowly, shaking his head as he fumbles for his words.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, I-"

"You're damned right, you shouldn't have." You said, glaring up at him through your brows. The lump in your throat only grew as you began to feel bad, practically kicking him while he was indeed apologizing.

Maybe he deserved it... a little.

You turned on your heel, making way for Riley's room. He could make dinner tonight. After all -- maybe some pretend tea would do you good.

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"I need to leave at first light for another trip with the guard."

It'd been a few days since you'd had it out with Eris, and maybe it was good you did; he'd been much more present, insisting on cooking, proving more when he was home, and being more involved with not just his daughter but you as well when he was home in the evenings... well, as much as you'd let him be. You hadn't entirely forgiven him yet, all things considered, and the incident from a few weeks ago hadn't even been mentioned, so the relationship was, awkward. To say the least.

"How long this time." You said it as plainly as you could, trying to ignore the burn of the firepoker upon your heart at the thought of him leaving again. You wished it didn't hurt so bad, wished it didn't effect you so much each time.

"Only three days. A quick trip to Spring and back." He nods assuringly, setting his pack on the dining table and looking to you. Nodding, you awkwardly run your hand along your arm, feeling a bit exposed under his intense gaze. This late in the evening, you knew he didn't tell Riley he'd be leaving (per usual) -- so she'd wake up tomorrow with that lovely realization.

"Ok." You chew on your bottom lip, and Eris sighs, stepping toward you. He reaches for your hand, but sensing your hesitation, he retracts. A look of sadness crosses his face before his eyes meet yours.

"Those dresses... in the closet." He murmurs. "They were Selene's." His jaw tightens at the name, and you swear you stop breathing. This was not the conversation you planned to have tonight.

"She... her family, they pass them down for tradition." He continues. "On her way out, she didn't really care to take them; I mean, she took just about everything else, but." He huffs a humorless laugh, but continues when you don't say anything.

"Anyway... I kept them because." He sighs, his head dropping before looking to you again. "You're right, Y/N. Riley is a very smart girl. One day, she is going to ask about her birth mother, and, well."

He shrugs. "I'm not going to have anything to show or give her that was hers." His gaze drops.

"The only thing I had left was those silly dresses from her side of the family."

Your heart clenches as though you can feel every ounce of sorrow he is feeling in that moment. You reach out, your hand caressing his cheek softly before you can think.

"Eris, I... I had no idea, really, I'm sorry-"

"Please, Gods don't apologize." His hand covers yours, his fingers wrapping around yours as he holds it against his cheek. "I know how it looks, and how it must have looked when you happened upon it." He sighs, his other hand reaching for your waist.

"It didn't help that I handled the situation poorly, either." He admits, sorrowfully looking into your eyes. You gaze up at him, your mouth twisting to the side. "I can't take it back, but I truly hope you can understand how sorry I am Y/N."

You step closer, closing the gap between the two of you as he pulls you into a firm embrace. His hand runs through the strands of your hair, a gentle reminder that everything might, just might, be okay.

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

"Y/N! Another!"

Riley holds out an identical bloom to the one previously in the mason jar to you th efollowing day, her earlier sadness at her father's departure replaced with temporary glee.

"Oh wow! Look -- this one is very vibrant." You wink at her, continuing on the path back to the Forest House.

"Vi...bran...t." She sounds out, examining the stem in her hand. She dumped out the dead flower pre-garden walk, and surely will now want to replace it.

As the two of you approach the front door, you stoop down to grab the few pieces of mail collated there. One envelope of deep mohogany with gold embossing catches your eye -- but, you follow the little girl inside nonetheless and push the door closed.

"We put this in the cup?" She asks, already making way for the sink to gather more water for her jar. You set down the paper pile, giving her all your undivided attention.

"Of course dear," you say, helping her to sit on the counter and fill her jar from the sink. She places the new flower in the glass, beaming at its brilliancy.

"Yay!" She squeals, her little feet kicking with delight. You help her off the edge, carefully transporting the jar to the table where it sat prior.

"We make sure this one has sun," she insists. "So it won't be ugly."

You chuckle, returning to the mail pile and plucking the envelope from the top. Your intrigue only grows when you see it is adressed to Eris, Riley and you.

You don't waste another moment in tearing it open.

Scanning the page, you feel a new kind of excitement -- a flutter of hope in your heart, a surge of excitement through your veins. Every nerve ending is electric within you as your true joy grows, the passionate feeling inside deeper than what you thought you could explain before. You felt, like truly, what you said meant something. Someone cared what you said, and you'd been heard.

"Riley?" You called. Her little footsteps bounded into the room, a look of interest on her face as she took you in and the paper between your fingers.

"Uh huh?"

You grinned, telling her the wonderful knews.

"Your daddy signed you up for school next month, sweetie."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

[softonshanks]

The captain’s gift

Word count: 2291 Characters: Shanks x female reader Plot: When Shanks and the crew return to the ship after exploring a new island, Shanks surprises Y/N with a thoughtful gift. Though she tries to act tough, Y/N can't hide her excitement and joy for the present: a pirate teddybear. She starts to show it off to everyone, while Shanks can't help but fall in love with her and with her happiness. As the days pass by she is always more in love with her bear, even if her sleeping problem is far from being fixed. One morning she waked up in Shanks's bed, together with her teddybear. What the hell happened the night before? Yes, this is just pure fluff and fun. Author's note: I was looking for a toy as a present for a friend's child and then this thing came up. I couldn't resist, I mean, how could you? This bear it's so fucking cute... so I had to write this dumb thing down. I just couldn't help it. Hope you like it, ciao <3

(btw love this gif: that's exactly how I pictured him while he said the line I decided to put in bold)

After days of sailing, the Red-Haired Pirates had finally docked at a new island. The crew was buzzing with excitement, eager to stretch their legs, explore, and enjoy the local food and drink. Everyone except Y/N, who yawned and stretched lazily, blinking sleepily at the busy deck. She had barely slept the night before, her hammock feeling more like a bed of rocks than a place to rest. She gave Shanks a weak smile as he walked past, but exhaustion had clearly taken its toll.

“Not joining us today?” Shanks asked, his usual grin plastered on his face as he slung his sword over his shoulder.

Y/N shook her head, rubbing her eyes. “Nah, Captain. I’m wrecked. Think I’ll rest up on the ship.”

Shanks chuckled. “Alright then. We’ll bring back stories of all the trouble we get into.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, already leaning back in her chair, closing her eyes against the sun. “I’ll pass on the trouble for today.” “We’re headed into town. Is there anything you need?”’ “Don’t need anything,” she muttered with a wave of her hand; “everything I need is right here,” she excessively gestured, moving again on her chair to find a more comfortable position. “I just need to sleep a little bit,” she added yawning.

“Sure, sure,” Shanks chuckled. “I’ll get you something you don’t need, then.”

With that, Shanks and the rest of the crew disappeared into the vibrant island town, leaving Y/N to nap under the warm sun.

Hours later, Y/N was still dozing on the deck when the crew returned. Her rest had done her some good, and she sat up, stretching and yawning like a content cat. The pirates were in high spirits, laughing and sharing stories of their exploits. Shanks approached her with a teasing smile, hiding something behind his back.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his tone light and mischievous. “I got you a little something.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, still groggy but curious. “A gift? Captain, I don’t need a gift. I can handle myself just like any other member of this crew, you know.”

Shanks smirked and shrugged. “Alright, if you’re too grown up for gifts, I’ll just take it back to the store.”

With a dramatic gesture, he pulled out the item he’d been hiding—a plush teddy bear dressed like a pirate, complete with a tiny hat, eye patch, and a miniature sword dangling from its waist. Y/N’s exhaustion vanished in an instant, her eyes lighting up like stars, and she gasped, her exhaustion forgotten.

“Isthatateddybear?!,” she excitedly screamed.

Shanks nodded, repeating “It’s a teddy bear”, laughing.

“Apirateteddybear?” she screamed once more, while Shanks nodded. She immediately snatched the bear out of his hand, holding it close to her chest. She didn’t care about looking like a baby, she loved it. The crew, who had been watching the exchange, burst into laughter. Shanks crossed his arms, trying to suppress a smirk. “And here I thought you were a grown-up. You sure look like a kid to me right now.”

Y/N stuck her tongue out at him. The crew, who had gathered around to watch, burst into laughter. Yasopp slapped Shanks on the back. “You’ve turned her into a five-year-old again!”

Lucky Roo chuckled, raising his mug in salute. “I give it a week before that bear’s the most famous pirate on the Grand Line.” Y/N pouted playfully at them, but the grin on her face was too big to hide. She held the bear up, showing it off like it was the greatest treasure she’d ever laid eyes on. “Look at him! He’s perfect!”, she repeated, unable to stop herself from grinning ear to ear. She hugged the bear tighter, turning back to Shanks with pure joy in her eyes. “Thank you, Captain! I can’t believe you got this for me!”.

Shanks feigned offense, clutching his chest. “You hug the bear first and not me? I’m hurt.”

Y/N laughed and finally threw her arms around Shanks, making him almost lose his balance as she squeezed him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried, jumping up and down with excitement. Shanks chuckled, his eyes softening as he watched her bounce around the deck, showing off the bear to every crewmate she could find, her smile never leaving her face. “You’re welcome,” he muttered under his breath, feeling his heart swell with affection. Shanks watched her from across the deck, unable to wipe the goofy smile off his face.

He knew she would have loved it. A few weeks before, during a stop on a bustling island, Shanks had quietly picked up on something no one else seemed to notice. They had been strolling through the marketplace when Lucky Roo became captivated by a toy shop window filled with colourful trinkets and stuffed animals. While the rest of the crew poked fun at Roo for getting distracted by toys, Y/N lingered a few steps behind them. Shanks, with his usual sharp eye, saw her pause in front of the window. Her gaze locked onto a plush bear. Her eyes had sparkled with a childlike wonder for just a moment before she quickly gasped, shaking her head as if scolding herself. Shanks could see it—the way she quickly turned away from the bear, her face a little more serious as she caught up with the group. No one else noticed, but Shanks did. He knew that she wanted it, but was too proud to show that softer side in front of the others. So when he was walking with the rest of the crew in town earlier that day and noticed a small pirate teddy bear, he knew he just had to buy it.  

Y/N was pure joy—always laughing, always brightening the crew’s spirits. He had been silently falling for her for a while now, and seeing her so happy with something so simple filled him with a warm, fluttering feeling he couldn’t quite shake.

In the days that followed, Y/N kept the teddy bear with her constantly. She named him “Red” and declared him the ship’s new mascot. Whether she was working, drinking with the crew, or napping, Red was always by her side. The crew found it endlessly amusing, but Shanks couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time he saw her cuddling the bear he’d picked out for her: every time he saw her hugging that little bear, his heart skipped a beat.

It was so fucking ridiculous to him—he was the captain of one of the most feared pirate crews on the sea, and yet, here he was, falling head over heels for a girl with a teddy bear.

One night, unable to sleep again, Y/N wandered out onto the deck, carrying Red with her. She sat down near the ropes, curling up under the stars. The night was peaceful, and the sound of the ocean was soothing, but sleep still wouldn’t come. She hugged Red tightly, sighing softly as she stared up at the sky.

Inside the ship, Shanks was headed to the galley to fetch some water when he noticed the door to the deck was ajar. Frowning, he stepped outside and immediately spotted Y/N, curled up on the ropes, fast asleep with Red tucked under her chin. His heart clenched at the sight. She looked so peaceful, so small, and it warmed him in a way he couldn’t quite explain. But she couldn’t sleep out here—not when it would get cold soon. He shook his head and quietly made his way over to her.

“Y/N,” he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. “Come on, you can’t sleep out here. It’s gonna get cold.”

She stirred, but didn’t fully wake up, simply mumbling something incoherent and snuggling deeper into her bear. Shanks sighed, but his smile didn’t fade. With ease he scooped her up in his one arm, cradling her gently as she slept. Red was still clutched tightly in her grasp. He carried her to his quarters, laying her down on his bed as carefully as possible. He pulled the blanket up over her and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, watching her breathe softly in her sleep. She looked so peaceful, so content. Shanks reached out and adjusted her blankets one more time, his heart swelling with affection.

“You really are something else,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well, Y/N.”

He stayed there for a few minutes, just watching over her, before finally pulling away.

The next morning, Y/N woke up feeling more rested than she had in days. She stretched lazily and she blinked a few times, her mind slowly catching up to the fact that she wasn’t in her hammock as her hand brushed against soft sheets. Her eyes snapped open as she realized where she was—Shanks’ bed. Her heart raced as she quickly sat up, looking around the room in a slight panic. “Why am I here?” she muttered to herself. She scrambled out of the bed, clutching the bear tightly as she rushed out onto the deck to find Shanks leaning against the railing with a casual grin on his face as he stared out at the horizon.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he greeted her with a wink, clearly having noticed her disheveled appearance.

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. "Why was I in your bed?"

He chuckled softly. "You fell asleep on deck last night hugging that teddy bear so tight, I figured you deserved better than the ropes. So I carried you to my bed." He paused, looking at her innocently. "Didn't want you getting cold."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm slightly, embarrassed by how vulnerable she had been. "You could’ve just woken me up,” she muttered, biting her lip.

“Well I tried to,” she looked at him. “I swear I tried to wake up you up, but you are a heavy sleeper,” he said laughing while Y/N pretended to be offended by his words.

Shanks tilted his head, his gaze softening. “Plus, you looked too peaceful in my bed. I can tell you are having some rough nights lately”.

Y/N sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah… about that."

He turned fully toward her, curious. "Something bothering you?"

She hesitated, glancing out at the ocean before letting out a frustrated breath. "I had a weird dream…"

The mischievous glint in Shanks' eye immediately sparked. He stepped closer, leaning down a bit to meet her gaze. "Oh? Do tell. Was it about treasure? A sea monster?"

Y/N scrunched her nose, avoiding his eyes. "It was... stranger than that."

Now fully intrigued, Shanks leaned against the railing beside her, all his attention on her. "Come on, spill it. You can't drop a mystery like that and not expect me to pry," he teased, giving her a playful nudge with his shoulder.

She huffed, still feeling silly, but the way he was looking at her made it impossible to keep the dream to herself. "Fine," she grumbled, her voice low. "I dreamt that… you kissed my forehead," she whispered shily, looking away.

Shanks froze, his face turning a shade of red that almost matched his hair. He didn’t know how to react at first, the embarrassment eating up alive cause he’d swear she was fully asleep in that moment. Finally, after a long pause, he let out a breath and broke into a grin as he decided to do what he always did— make a joke.  

“Well, that’s a snitch right there”.

Y/N blinked, confused. “What?”

Shanks pointed to the teddy bear. “Red here is a damn snitch! And you know what happens to snitches.”

He playfully grabbed the bear from her hands, pretending to shake it in mock fury. “I’ll teach him a lesson!”

Y/N gasped in mock horror, quickly grabbing at the bear. “No! He didn’t do anything wrong!”

The two of them tussled for a moment, laughing until they were breathless. Y/N finally yanked the bear out of Shanks’ hands, cradling it protectively to her chest. “You leave him alone, Captain!”

Shanks chuckled, shaking his head. “I love you, you know that?”

Y/N froze for a second, blinking up at him. “Wait… what did you just say?”

Shanks froze as well, realizing what he’d just blurted out, once again unable to maintain some dignity aroud Y/N. But instead of backtracking this time, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, you heard me. I love you. Been wanting to tell you for a while now. You just… you make me so damn happy.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and a wide grin spread across her face. She stepped closer to him, holding Red in one arm and reaching out to touch Shanks’ cheek with her free hand. “You make me happy too, Captain.”

Shanks leaned in for a kiss, but Y/N, ever the mischievous one, quickly placed the teddy bear between them. Shanks ended up kissing the plush toy instead of her, much to her amusement.

Y/N burst out laughing, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Sorry, Red gets the first kiss.”

Shanks groaned but couldn’t help but laugh as well. “You little rascal.”

With a playful grin, Y/N finally moved the bear aside and leaned in to give Shanks a proper kiss. Their lips met softly at first, then with more warmth and affection, as if they were both relieved to finally share the feelings they’d kept hidden for so long.

When they finally pulled apart, Shanks rested his forehead against hers, a content smile on his face. “You’ve got no idea how happy you make me.”

Y/N smiled back, her heart light as a feather. “I love you too, Shanks. And for the record… Red approves.”

[samicakes-exe]

May I ask when the Jeff fic is gonna get finished?🥺

Ahh! It's finally done and hopefully not too late! ♡♡♡ I hope you enjoy my first fic of 2023!!

ℍ𝔸𝕋𝔼𝔽𝕌ℂ𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕁𝔼𝔽𝔽 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕂𝕀𝕃𝕃𝔼ℝ ♡

warning: rough rough sex, BIG DEGRADATION STUFF, hair-pulling, it’s hate sex with a murderer sooooo, pain, fat-shaming??, you domming jeff???, use of feminine names and anatomy, unwanted cream pie, nipple biting and sucking, lot of biting, public kinda sex like you could get caught!, overall general nastiness, BARELY EDITED SMUT!

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤: around 4k

ℚ𝕌𝕀ℂ𝕂 𝕃𝕀𝕃 𝔹𝕌𝕃𝕃𝔼𝕋 𝕃𝕀𝕊𝕋-

Jeff is a little shit- You know it. I know it.

Sooooo He teases the absolute fuck out of you! when you two aren’t fucking or at least making out: he won’t let you hear the end of it-

“You hate me huh?” “You don’t seem to hate me slut.”

People at the mansion would never guess that you two hook up most nights- since both of you are at each other throats insulting each other for everything under the sun.

Something about the insults, the yelling and the hard grip he had on you made you wet. Made you quiver, made you want this man that you hated.

You hated this man but couldn’t truly express that while you were clawing up the counter tops, him behind you rutting into your needy cunt hard.

you both needed this release.

You still hated each other.

Y’all just needed this just this once!!your bodies took ahold of you! This would be the last night of it.

until you two did it again

and again

fine- maybe you liked it more than what you wanted to admit.

♡♡♡

ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠!! ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖’𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕣:

It was early morning in the mansion, and the sun was barely poking its head over the old windowsills; It provided enough light for you to creep through the sleeping house, the only sound was the sharp creaks of the aged wooden floor. The nerves made you walk slower and they didn't truly settle until the pads of your feet touched the almost ice-like tile of the kitchen.

The kitchen was darker than the rest of the house, it was completely devoid of the warm peeks of the sunrise due to the thick curtains. You placed your hand flat on the wall and blindly felt around for seemingly a minute while you stared into the void that was the kitchen currently. Past a certain pattern of bumps: The tip of your finger thumped into the thick light switch, and in a flash, the odd staring contest with the darkness ended.

You beelined straight for the fridge which looked worse for wear. Slenderman doesn't make any unnecessary purchases, it still worked good so why buy a prettier one. Sure, it was tough to get it open but a hefty push from your sleep-riddled arms was just enough for this morning.

The buzzing lightbulb in the fridge made you press your eyes tight together and squeezed the remaining sleep out of them. Once again you were back in the dark, giving your eyes time to adjust from the soft light of the peeking sun and the sickly dim yellow lights above to the now almost heavenly fridge light.

Lucky for you, It only took a second.

And there it was: All of the food in the house currently. The cabinets were pretty bare aside from cleaning products and dishes that weren't either in the dishwasher or being used as makeshift tupper-ware. Standing there and soaking up that light that once blinded you. There were a couple of items your eyes were flicking between; A neat plastic container that held some sort of pasta, a tin foiled-wrapped paper plate mystery, and an unwrapped probably stale mash potatoes from a leftover tv dinner. Absolutely none of it looked particularly appetizing but the grumbling in your stomach didn't at all care, but before you could reach for one of your choices for breakfast your appetite dropped.

"Getting a nice tan, fat-ass?"

The hunger subsided but your stomach filled with the same feeling it always had when you heard that nails on a chalkboard voice of his. Of course, Jeff had to be the only one awake just to spite you when you think the whole house is asleep. You clenched your teeth tight until you felt a slight whirring in your jaw, hopefully, he would fuck off if you didn't respond but that only seemed to spur him on more.

"What are you now, deaf? C'mon toots you know how to say good morning the right way," Jeff's voice still had the sleepiness rasp to it. "Don't ya?"

Honestly, if it wasn't for him being so annoying you would find it quite sexy.

"What's the proper way to say good morning then?" Your voice was also raspy, it was the first thing you said this morning. Too bad that you wasted it on Jeff.

Jeff liked the raspiness more than he would admit, it reminded him of how you tend to scratch up your throat during your guy's screaming matches and how much worse it would get when you were screaming for a different reason. The very thought of a possible fuck made him want to start poking those few buttons he knew.

"Not fucking ignoring me for starters," Jeff smirked against the already scarred smile, making it stretch more. "And giving me a big smile babe."

Your eyes rolled before you even looked back at Jeff. He was leaning against the door frame, his black plaid pajama pants were hanging low on his thin build. The white tank of his was tighter than what you would think, all of it revealed his belly and revealed your favorite part personally: That thick happy trail of his which led to your second favorite part.

You flashed him the most fake smile you could muster, lips stretching against your teeth with how grand you were making it, "Uh-huh."

He couldn't help but smile back before biting his lower lip, Jeff's eyes were glued to your stretched lips. He leaned in closer to you, watching how your lips twitched against the strain "Uh-huh~"

Just as fast as you put that smile on, it dropped into your resting face aside from your lips which were in a slight frown. "Like calling me a fat-ass is such a better way, bleach boy."

It was now his turn for his eyes to roll, "Real mature Toots."

"Oh shove it up your ass Jeff."

Annoyance aside, he was genuinely letting his semi speak for him, and the way you insulted him almost made his semi not a semi anymore. Still, he needed another screaming match to fully get into the mood; deep down, he knew that you needed it too.

"A better way to say good morning to me toots is by sucking my cock."

Your face was stuck in disbelief, your eyes flicked up and down his whole being. You were dumbfounded but when you saw a noticeable bulge in his pajama pants you immediately knew why he was saying this. You let disgust run all over your body, the only thing you wanted in you right now was food and even that was iffy since your appetite was draining by the second while you were with him.

"Really Jeff? As if I'll put that thing in my mouth- won't even reach past my gums." You sneered, looking away from him and towards the empty cabinets, a smirk came across your face.

Jeff rolled his eyes, annoyed but turned on even more now. He came closer to you, now standing in front of you. Towering over you even though he wasn't the tallest guy in the house but here, compared to you he was. He was currently taking up your side view, It made your breath hitched slightly, and the excitement rumbled in a ball in your chest, you felt it every time you breathe.

"You weren't saying that last time doll, you know that." Jeff's sleepiness rasp to his voice was actually sending tingles down your spine, just the excitement of getting into not actually an argument but a bickerment was enough to get over the hatred you had for this man, and get into the pure lust you had instead.

"Who got overwhelmed by my size? screaming about how big it was huh?" Jeff was still teasing you and seemingly his craved smile stretched even wider when he caught your cheeks starting to redden.

He only wants to continue this. wanting to see how red your cheeks would get.

"I saw how your little tummy bulged out when I was absolutely balls deep in you, Doll." Jeff couldn't help but smile more. Now his actual smile was now mocking his carved one.

You couldn't stop the blood rushing to your cheeks causing them to mimick the color now. The redder they got the cockier Jeff got. His ego was inflating and he wouldn't stop until you were naked and squirming underneath him.

"Shut up Jeff. I swear." You murmured, barely able to get it out of your mouth. You swear that the heat from your cheeks was getting in the way of talking, Jeff picked up on this as well and it only pushed him to keep teasing you.

"Come on now can't defend yourself now? Come onnn call me stupid or something sweetface."

Before you could even get a word out he continued.

"See absolutely speechless because of me teasing you? Wow, would never thought that I would see the day that Y/N didn't have anything to say."

He looks proud of himself but a better word for it would be cocky, you thought. He kept going on about his small victory and soon his words snuffed the heat right out of your cheeks. You needed to shut him up somehow before his cockiness also snuffed out your lust. Thankfully, you had just the idea.

You pushed him into the wall, cutting him off in the midst of another boast. You looked up at him with a devilish smirk as you gently pulled up his white tank revealing his lean but toned body, and that happy trail as well. When the shock subsided he immediately got the hint, smirking down at you, while his eyes watched you carefully.

Your hand slid down his pajama pants feeling that same semi he had while you were insulting him. Now you could feel the effect that you always knew you had on him. You, almost at a painstaking pace started to rub his cock. as you started to kiss all over his chest. Sloppy wet kisses, leaving a trail of slight purple bruises as the blood rose to his snow-white skin.

He could only groan softly, keeping his voice hushed because y'all were next to the kitchen door: He couldn't let anyone see him like this, pinned up against the wall, shirt pushed up his chest and you teasing him. He couldn't be seen especially with you. His pride wouldn't possibly let the entire mansion or a single person know that he could stand for a second or even a quick fuck.

The kisses got meaner with time, now biting into his surprisingly soft skin which made it a lot harder for him to conceal his moans and groans.

"Fuck.. Doll." He whined which made you smile against his ribcage. The noise was delicious, and you didn't expect that you would get that from Jeff of all people.

A soft giggle left your lips and was muffled by the bruised flesh currently in your teeth. Your hand that rubbed his semi-to-a-full erection paused its movements as you got an idea that would be rather fun to execute and hopefully get another delicious whine from him.

Your lips left his ribcage and your teeth left their marks in the now red-purple love bruise. Your lips made a trail of now soft and sweet kisses up his chest. No one could tell that you hated this man with how soft you were being in this moment.

You paused when your mouth hovered over his right nipple. Your eyes flicked up to meet his and he looked mostly confused why you stopped kissing him. He liked it despite how rough you were. Little did he know what you had in mind.

"Doll- what are yo-"

You cut him off but wrapped your pretty lips around his nipple and gently sucked on it like he had done to you during past hookups. You ever so slightly let your tongue graze again the hardening pebble.

Pitiful groans came from Jeff's mouth, he was shocked that he could muster up these sounds.

With a wet plop, you stopped sucking, leaving Jeff to scramble to catch his breath and thoughts. When he looked like he had a smidge of it back, you had your two front teeth and bottom teeth around the now reddish pink bud, the color similar to your blush from earlier.

A groan that ended off with a high pitch whine when you started to roll the bud in between your teeth, wriggling your tongue on the top part.

"Fuuuck Duh-Duh... Doll."

That free hand of yours had a similar mind as it went up to his lone nipple gently flicking it and pinching it.

Jeff was a blushing mess, happy that your view was only on his chest cause he would have hated to see your reaction to him like this.

You didn't stop until his right nipple was bright red and slightly puffy.

Jeff reached for your face which had some drool pouring out of your mouth and onto his chest. He absolutely didn't care, pulling you up to his height by your face so he could roughly make out with you. His scarred skin rubbed against yours, tounges smashed together and so did moans. Accidentally bumping teeth when either of you got a little too excited.

You struggled some with the height difference and the way you felt like you were just held up by your neck, so during the make-out, you climbed him like the bean pole he was. He easily helped you: his hands grabbing massive greedy heaps of your thighs, squeezing it hard to start making his own marks on your body.

Drool seeped out from the corners of y'alls mouths.

Finally, he pulled away so your lungs could take gulps of air. He moved to your neck where your pulse was beating the strongest and started biting and sucking: His hands moved to one of his personal favorite body parts of yours: your ass. His hands which looked to be made for piano left imprints.

Your moans filled the kitchen now and weren't the least bit quiet: fuelling him to carry you to the old island in the middle of the kitchen and plopped your bruised ass on the yellowed marble counter.

His greedy mouth traveled down your chest leaving wide 'O' shaped burst blood vessels. You felt your body warming up, you couldn't see all too well, blinded by lust. All that mattered was taking this man in every way y'all saw fit.

Jeff ripped open your shirt, sloppily sucking on your breasts in any way they could fit in his mouth. he didn't care what part he just wanted to suck on them and also for them to be marked since you did one hell of a job on his chest.

"Jefff fuuuck~"

"Now you're moaning my name toots." He said his voice muffled by your marked flesh still halfway in his mouth. "Good." He huffed, his mouth now going lower.

He left a couple marks on your tummy, didn't want to spend too much time there but didn't want to leave it bare. He couldn't wait. He wanted to taste you. To swirl his tongue around in your insides. quite hastily he pulled your underwear down to around your ankles and threw your legs over his shoulders: making you lay your warm naked back against the cold marble which made your nipples hard and that caught his attention.

He flicked his eyes back up to your breasts, taking in the sight before he reached out and grabbed them roughly leaving the same hand-shaped imprints.

His eyes looked wild as ever. the pupil constricted into a pin-point like a parrot who just learned how to say "fuck". Those wild eyes traced your body from your tits down to your pussy, pretty and glistening from all the excitement and fun y'all had earlier. He reached down, gently taking his index finger and rubbing the slit of your cunt. From how he grabbed you earlier you weren't expecting this. How he so delicately touched you as if you were a brittle piece of bone, threatening to snap

You greedily tried to move your hips, trying to push yourself against his hand so you could feel more. The red flush on your face now was out of frustration since he In perfect timing moved his hand so you just missed his fingers by a hair.

"Nuh uh uh toots. Not yet." He said through gritted teeth as if he was straining to hold even himself back from completely devouring you. "I wanna hear something?"

"What Jeff? Whaaat" You whined, now sitting up half-assed.

"Beg."

"I am not-"

"Shut up Doll: You did it before."

"Im not doing it this ti-"

You were cut off by a long moan erupting from your mouth one of Jeff's long fingers slid up inside you, bottoming out easily. the beginning of his palm right against your clit. You were knocked back on your back, legs naturally spreading open for this man which pulled him in closer due to your panties still being around your ankles.

"Please Jeff."

Jeff stood above you, jaw unclenched as now he worked his hand shoving his ring finger in to join his middle one.

"That's all you had to say bitch.. GOD, you're so hot like this." He groaned, pulling back as he lowered himself to be in direct line of sight of your pussy. He moved his hand so his palm wasn't covering your now swollen clit, His natural smile was now ear to ear before he leaned over and started to suck lightly on your clit which sent your hips into wild motions so wild in fact that he had to reach up with his free hand and firmly press it against your belly to keep you still enough while he tasted you.

He worked his fingers into you hard but slow, thrusting into you as if he was fucking you with his cock, his tongue flicking around your clit. he changed his thrusts to the scissoring motion when he noticed you tightening up on him, your pussy throbbing wildly, your moans pleads, and whimpers all in his ears.

He moaned along with you, seemingly getting off to see you getting off. Strangely, you twos emotions were always tied together.

Maybe it was from all practice he had but he genuinely felt you were close, it must've been muscle memory.

His fingers worked rough, sloppily thrusting into you with no real timing or pacing. His tongue and mouth got sloppier and so did his hold on you which meant you could buck all you wanted. You squeezed tighter on his fingers genuinely feeling a big knot in your stomach, only tightening more and more with how more messy Jeff has gotten.

His mouth trailed off, his tongue joining his fingers in your hole while his other hand's fingers rubbed your clit, flicking it back and forth between his index and middle finger.

The muscles in your legs twitched and generally shake as if that would help you hold in the need to come undone under jeff's talented hands and mouth.

The knot only swelled and so did the upcoming scream in your throat. In time, you clasp your hand over your mouth muffling the guttural scream the best you can.

You came and came hard, juices gushing out of your hole and onto Jeff's fingers and waiting mouth. He looked up at you, your whole body flushed a rosy pink. Your mouth agape taking in greedy breaths, boobs bouncing slightly from your chest moving.

"Jesus toots almost drowned me." He grinned, at how annoyed you looked. He straightened up, his chin still dripping with your fluids, he stuck his fingers into your hanging mouth.

"Suck." He ordered, eyes lowering but the smile was still the same.

You closed your mouth around his fingers and gave it gentle sucks, savoring the taste of yourself much to the enjoyment of Jeff. his eyes sparkled when you kept sucking even when he tried to pull them out.

He pulled you by your hips closer to him, his pajama pants barely able to hang on. He barely pulled them down, just enough so that he could take out his cock.

"I know you been wanting this~"

"Shut up Jeff."

"What am I wrong toots?"

"Ye-" A loud moan interrupted you when he shoved himself into your needy cunt, gladly sucking in all of his length.

He joined your choir of moans as being in your tight pussy was enough for his knees almost to buckle. He was hunched over you, god he could swear to a priest that this pussy was the closest thing to heaven he has ever known. He gave only shallow thrusts which were enough for you both to shudder and whine. You from being overly sensitive and him from just edging himself.

"Fuck toots- god!"

He thrust into you hard one time and you both saw stars. Jeff was hunched over you like a lion eating its's meal, his hands found a way towards your hair and pulled it backward, making you stay in an arch position. He gave you more brutal thrusts, knocking every damn thought out of ya.

"Cant fucking think huh doll?" Jeff mocked you for the glazed-over look you had in your eyes. Your tongue hanging out like a puppy-dog.

"Fuck you." your tongue found it's way back into your mouth and hurled that at him.

"You're already doing that sweetheart~" He cooed looking down at your pretty face, which know had more of a glare on it then lust.

He kept the same deep pace with you, looking intently into your eyes.

"Fu-fuck you jeff! I hate you!"

Your pussy squeezed around him almost like it was milking him. His thrusts only grew rougher as his smile grew wider.

"hate me huh? Dont hate me enough not to fuck me~ God you're such a stupid little slut."

The way he was bottoming you out on repeat was making you stammer on your words. "Shut shut shut up-"

"Or else what bitch? Am I the only guy you fuck in the house or just the one that does it the best?'

His index and middle finger went to rub your clit. pressing harder down on it. You couldn't help but to buck your hips again. The knot in your belly finding the loose strings and tying itself up again.

"Jesus christ Jeffery- You're such a fucking asshole- Can't even- make me cum again." You said through gritted teeth, the way you had to suppress moans just to say that drove you insane. And deep down you knew that he was gonna make you cum again by how the knot was quickly tightening up.

"Oh? I can't, news to me bitch." He slow down but still trusted into you hard enough for you not to complain. His hand went off of your clit and onto your belly pressing down on it. He could feel his own cock going in and out.

His other hand loosens up on your hair, allowing you to move a little and you did, propping yourself up on your elbows, looking him right in his cocky face.

"fuck smiles-" You moaned and he laughed.

Your hand went and grabbed his hair pulling him to your lips. The smart way of shutting him up, can't brag if he's busy swirling tongues.

The kiss was hot and heavy and soon you both got sloppier. Jeff with his thrusts and tongue and you with your tongue.

your facades both fell apart and you two wildly fucked into each other. Not thinking about the rivalry, the other people living here, nothing at all but getting each other off.

The knot was unbearabley tight, your thighs twitching like mad around his waist, squeezing him a little tighter. Jeff pushed you flat on your back, now chest to chest with your tongues still locked together. Moans seeping out in between the little breaks in the kiss. You pulled away to fully let out a louder moan and you could feel jeff's hot breaths against your cheek. He smelled of you.

"Jeff... I'm gonna cum."

"Fuck me too."

Jeff got sloppier like how he did when he was fingering you. No rhythm or pacing to it, fucking into you rough. Whatever felt good to him he just did it. Rocking his hips into you at a brutal pace. He lifted himself off of your chest, his hands taking greedy handfuls of your thighs and squeezing hard, matching the brutal way he was fucking you. He was holding you as if you would run away but you did quite the opposite, fucking yourself back against him when he wasn't pulling you against his thrusts.

When you did have your eyes open, you caught glimpses of him staring at you with such an intensity it made your pussy throb. His jaw clenched, eyes crazy but scanning your whole body drinking the view in.

It felt like hours going on like this but a couple more thrusts made you cum, your body seized up, tightening your pussy around him before just gushing all over his pelvis, thoroughly soaking his pajama pants that were loosely hanging around his thighs. Seeing you being sent over the edge was what he needed to come undone, with one last thrust he filled you up to the brim, his legs shaking as he dumped every last drop into you.

He then slouched and laid on your chest, his face resting in the nook of your neck. You both lay there, breathing heavily but in sync. Somehow your hands found their way to his back, your finger drawing invisible circles on his shoulder blade.

When both of ya'lls breathing stopped resembling that of an asthmatic kid who just got done running the mile, Jeff picked his head up. A gentle smile against his carved one.

"i'll make us breakfast, toots."

[pixelatedraindrops]

Baby Makoto AU Doodle Dump🐣

Hiya everyone! So, I’ve been busy working on some art of this new little concept of mine. It’s been in my head for a while. Ever since I found out Makoto is in fact canonically 3 years old. And then thinking of Number One being a doting single parent to his tiny homunculus clone whom he adopts to keep safe from further experimentation and raises as his own 🥺💕

I’ve seen other people (specifically on twitter) come up with this thought as well. Makoto as a 3 year old child with Yuma as his parent. Honestly other than drawing my favorite characters being sick, drawing them as little kids also brings about a nostalgic comfort to me. Not nearly as much joy as drawing sickies brings me, but it was fun to draw the all powerful CEO as a little toddler curious about the world. He's just a little baby <3

Now I am actually a bit shy and insecure about this idea. Mainly due to people possibly confusing it with infantilization and/or age regression. This is neither of those things. It’s an AU where he just happens to be a toddler. If anything I picture little Makoto to be similar to Anya from Spy x Family. (and the fact they both share a Japanese VA makes this connection even cuter, and he's only one year younger than her x3)

Anyway, I hope you all will indulge in me as I share the art I’ve done of this tiny little homunculus. I probably won’t talk about this au or draw it often due to feeling shy about it, so I just made a full on thread of the doodles if you want to see. I keep them under a read more to prevent spam (and I know not everyone is a fan of this concept)

But if you look, I hope you enjoy!

A little reference of sorts I made of my toddler Makoto design. (though he wears different clothing in every art I do of him lol this just connects his normal purple flowery attire) He is exactly 2 feet shorter than his usual height making him pretty small for a toddler. (but yuma is pretty short too lol and I want him to be able to carry him ;w;)

He has 2 special toys that connect to his other mask designs in the concept art. The teddy bear is his very special possession that Yuma gave him as a present, and the puppet teruteru-bozu is something he made together with Yuma when crafting on a rainy day. (he is so talented preparing him for the future when he actually develops products for the company he will run) The melon ball is based on his favorite fruit, and he has socks and a fuzzy blanket with the pattern of his mask.

In this AU, Yuma retains his Number One persona. He’s not meek apologetic and unsure, he has the confidence of the ultimate detective. But is he confident as a parent? Not in the slightest. But taking care of Makoto teaches him more about being kind and empathetic towards others, and eventually over time he becomes super protective and even at times doting towards Makoto.

Making his personality a bit more bright and pleasant, much like the kind and gentle Yuma that we all know and love. Parenthood causes the serious detective to soften up a lot. And of course this causes Makoto to love and depend on Yuma in return and never want to cause him trouble. (So he puts on a tough act a lot ;w;) However, he almost never calls Yuma dad. He just calls him Yuma. Its very rare that he refers to Yuma as his dad but this is perfectly okay by Yuma. (But when Makoto does call him dad? Yuma feels such unexplainable emotional discord that he almost cries.)

Some more doodles :3

Such a silly little family. I love them so much <3

Why did I think of this AU? Because I want Makoto and pre-game Yuma to not be lonely, be happy together, and for Makoto to have a childhood. Honestly Makoto seems a bit childish and playful in canon too so...

I think I'd like him to have an actual childhood where he grows up comfortable and happy. And in the care of someone who loves him 💜

[verbenaa]

to eden | chapter nine

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F! Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 11.1k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: blowjobs 😎; canon-compliant, non-graphic mentions of SA 😔 (Astarion 😭)

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “Do you trust me, Astarion?” Rin asks. She’s waited patiently enough for weeks upon weeks upon weeks, she can easily manage another minute for a proper answer from him first.

He shivers just slightly under her touch as her hands still, and Astarion averts his eyes from hers for a moment before huffing a breath and returning her gaze.

“Stop asking me questions you already know the answer to.” The bite in his words is softened by their meaning, his swallow audible as he stares down at her, a veiled vulnerability shining in his eyes as they run over the planes of her face.

𝒶/𝓃: hello!!!!! apologies it took me so long to get this chapter completed. But it is finally done and I very much hope you enjoy it. Here's to chapter 10 taking me half the time to write as this one did. please let me know your thoughts down in the comments and I appreciate you all!!!

read on ao3 | masterlist

“Are you even listening to me?” 

Rin blocks out the sound of Astarion, positively incensed about absolutely nothing of consequence, as he follows her around the grounds of the Last Light Inn, complaining rather loudly for her tastes.

She sighs as she trudges down one of the dirt paths leading away from the inn and back towards their camp, the area thankfully empty as he strides just behind her at a clipped pace. 

“I stopped listening about five minutes ago, Astarion, when you decided to keep saying the same thing over and over again,” Rin says, annoyance sneaking into her words as she cuts a look back towards the angry vampire somehow managing to stomp elegantly after her.

“I’ll stop saying it over and over again when you realize that I am right.”

Gods, he could be so irritating. 

While their encounter with Ketheric Thorm went surprisingly well and no one dared to second guess them in their ruse of pretending to be True Souls, Rin still felt somewhat unmoored by it all. The plot was thickening with a quickness and intensity she didn’t care for; something that was only growing more and more sinister brewing just beneath the surface, and she isn’t looking forward to figuring out whatever that something might be.

There’s a very large part of her the longs to run—to simply disappear into the darkness and never return; to sprint away from all of this madness, the constant battles, the sharp malice of it all.

Her life may not have accumulated to very much back in Baldur’s Gate—little money, the occasional performance at a shitty tavern, the more-than-occasional odd job for the Guild—but at the very least it was predicable in its unpredictability. 

Sure, she didn’t always have the money that she quite desperately needed, but she always knew to expect the possibility of not having it. She always knew how to sweet talk her way into getting more time to pay her debts, how to charm the baker into giving her an extra roll or two, or when times were particularly tough, how to steal what she needed to without even getting caught (most of the time). 

They were skills she had honed over a lifetime of living on the streets and in the murky shadows of the Lower City, things that she had worked hard to perfect to the best of her ability in order to survive. If there was one thing Rin knew, it was how to work to the system.

Thirty-four years in and she’s yet to meet a magistrate while draped in chains, so she must be doing something right.

But the only thing she can dare to expect these days is the unexpected. 

And Rin is not a fan of unexpected things—unless said things happen to be a nice bottle of wine or a fancy necklace; though as far as she can remember, no one has ever gifted her much of anything.

“What exactly did you want me to do, Astarion?”

“We should have stayed longer,” he hisses towards her, eyes narrowed and lip curled menacingly. “There was more information we could have dug out. There were merchants we could have bought more weapons and potions from. There were plenty of things we could have done, and yet you had us running away scared. You even let those goblins fight for their lives instead of just killing them outright. Absolutely ridiculous.”

Clearly, she doesn’t see the issue the same as Astarion, because she couldn’t find a single problem with the plan. It was the sane, normal thing to do after such a covert operation. They were a rag-tag group of adventurers, not spies.

They had maintained their cover, eventually killed the goblins, talked to the decidedly awful Disciple Z’rell, and then got the hells out of there as fast as they could.

The memory of Z’rell searching through her mind draws a minute shiver to her form, the sensation of another tadpole clawing through her brain with a wave of energy and touching on the darker things she keeps hidden in the depths of her thoughts—old memories that were purposely forgotten, hopes that she had long given up on having, disappointments that had been left to languish in the corners like dusty cobwebs—had been very unwelcome, to say the least.

She hadn’t been expecting to have to defend herself against Z’rell’s invasion, and she hated having to use her desire for Astarion as a distraction, even it if had worked. 

It had left her feeling as though she had been stripped bare, like some raw part of her had been left exposed to salt.

She didn’t dare to show Z’rell any of the truly illicit memories, for the half-orc certainly didn’t deserve to see Astarion in such a way and Rin was not about to put his body on display for her, even within the relative safety of her own mind or for the sake of the mission. 

Thankfully, she had plenty of other memories to use to showcase her more…amorous feelings about him.

The memory of him crowding her up against a cave wall, the feeling of his lips on her neck as he kissed it seconds before biting in, his lips claiming hers for the first time in the forest clearing what feels like forever ago, his fingers removing her armor piece by piece in the Underdark as heat had begun to curl in her belly…she could, theoretically, probably go on for forever.  

Rin breathes out a frustrated breath, attempting to steady herself as she turns around to face Astarion with little thought, and he pulls up short to avoid running into her, stopping right before they collide.

“Here’s the thing. You are not in charge because you did not want to be, and so now I am. And as such, I made a decision to leave, and so we did. If you don’t like it, Astarion, then by all means, go march your way back to Moonrise and have a look around, if you’d like.” 

Rin is careful to annunciate her every word as her finger pokes in the center of his chest, eyes steely as she glares up at him. 

“But,” she continues, “in the event that you decide to not trot off back to that hellish place, can you please tell me how to possibly shut you up now? Because as much as I honor and appreciate your opinion, I am tiring of hearing it.”

Astarion casts a slow look down at the finger resting innocuously against him before dragging his gaze back up to hers, brow raised alongside the casual arrogance painted on his face.

Rin knows she couldn’t look any less threatening—camp clothes slightly wrinkled from where she had pulled them on hurriedly after bathing, her hair still slightly damp, and at least a full head shorter than Astarion.

Anger has never been her strong suit, she’s far better at using the written word as a weapon than she is at yelling, and she realizes she probably has all the intimidation of a hissing cat rather than something terrifyingly ferocious and beautiful.

At the very least, the letter she writes him later tonight will be properly vicious—or at least her version of it. She’s not sure she’s capable of the raw rage of someone like Karlach or the steel-sharpened vitriol of Lae’zel, but she can at least use several choice adjectives to describe him that she has no doubt will irritate him. 

“Well, if you don’t want to hear it then you shouldn’t make stupid decisions,” Astarion says through gritted teeth, claret eyes glaring down at her. “and if you want to shut me up, you’re going to have to make me.”

“‘Make you’? How old are you, ten?” She presses her finger into his chest harder as her patience thins, biting down on her lip hard in failed attempt to take a calming breath.

Her heart is still pounding in her chest even after a relatively relaxing bath, and Astarion yelling at her about it does not help one bit. She aches to wipe the smirk off his lips as her eyes dart down to them, the way they curve up into a maddening off-kilter smile one that burns itself into her memory.

The traitorous part of her mind, the one that won’t disappear no matter how hard she tries to banish it and instead only serves to grow stronger as if to spite her, taunts her to kiss him if she really wants to shut him up. 

No better way to rid his mouth of that self-righteous smirk than by giving his lips something better to do instead, after all.

She had thought after that night, the one where he had so coldly thrown her out while still in the haze of their shared pleasure, that whatever it was that had been growing between them would be no more. It had seemed, at the time at least, that he wanted nothing more to do with her.

Instead, Astarion had shown up every night since at her tent. 

And every single night, he’d ruined her.

It had become their new routine, apparently. Every night they start by the fire as they always do—talking, drinking, divulging secrets in one another; and then afterwards, he follows her back to her tent, sets her alight with his touch, only to leave when he’s done with her.

They make something that Rin thinks must be akin to love; although she’s never really made love with anyone else before, so what does she know?

Perhaps he simply fucks everyone like the way he does her.  

The Traitor in her mind is quick to point out the falsehood that statement, reminding her that he didn’t lay with her at first like he does now. At first, there had been no mistaking what they were doing—it was sex, pure and simple, between two people indulging in a mutual curiosity and need. 

Looking back, it feels like Astarion had barely even enjoyed their first few liaisons together, his actions mostly halfhearted and his mind barely present. 

Now, though, there’s a marked difference in the press of lips, each and every one meaningful and every caress upon her skin intentional during the house they spend lost in one another.

She could no longer call it just sex, at least by her standards.

Rin didn’t know what to think. 

And how could she know, when he comes to her and sends her into complete bliss with a touch that only seems to grow more reverent with every passing night, the look in his eyes when they twine together that of a fire only growing as if being fed by more and more fuel.

But no matter how rough or how gentle he handles her—his touch somehow both softer and more intense with each night that passes, no matter how passionate or sweet the presses of his lips are against hers are as they find their completion together—he never stays.

Astarion’s interests, it seemed, were only in her physical attributes.

She shouldn’t be surprised, in the end. She was nothing more than a half-rate bard whose skills amounted to little of importance, so she can’t quite blame him for not being interested in the rest of her.

She was no sagely wizard like Gale nor a noble warlock like Wyll. She patroned no cause like Shadowheart or Lae’zel, no matter how questionable Rin finds their worship and ideals. 

She has no greater calling, no reason to be; neither a paragon of good nor an avatar of evil. 

She simply exists, day to day, in whatever way she can make it through. 

Perhaps if she were someone greater, someone of skill or importance, someone of knowledge; he would want her for more than just nights of shared passion.

The thought rankles something in her, though it shouldn’t. People like her weren’t meant for much more, and she’s never done anything to be worthy of things like tenderness, affection, or love.

If she were, then surely everyone else wouldn’t have left her. She wouldn’t have been abandoned if she’d been worth it.

Rin has nothing more to offer anyone but simply who she is—and who she is has never, ever been enough for anyone to ever take a chance on.

She’ll just have to make do with what she gets when it comes to Astarion, though he’ll no doubt leave her like all the rest when he’s had his fill of her.

But in the meantime, she’d rather have him in whatever way she can—in whatever way he will let her have him—than not get have him at all. 

And so she gives in to that traitorous part of her brain, the one still whispering of all the ways she can distract him, of the limited chances she has to revel in his closeness, and makes her move.

“You know what, fine. You want me to shut you up? I’d love the honor.”

Rin flattens her hand against his chest and pushes before taking a step forward into his space. Astarion glances down at her hand once before gracing her with a very skeptically raised brow.

Slowly, Rin steps forward again and Astarion steps back; one step followed by another and then another as they walk backwards until his back hits the stone of the wall behind them, dirt and chipped rock crumbling onto the ground next to them.

“Many have tried, most have failed.” He’s devastatingly handsome with such a devious smile, and she almost hates the way it makes anticipation startle to life in her chest. Almost.

Rin keeps her hand where it is as a small smirk of her own forms on her lips. “Most have not been me.”

“Do tell, little bard, what is to be your perfect strategy, hm?” He’s teasing and taunting her again as his head leans down towards hers, eyes narrowed in challenge.

She’s not quire sure what sparks the idea in her head; but she blames it on her ever-evolving and only growing adoration of him—slightly painful to admit, despite being very, very true. 

Regardless of whatever the reason is, she takes her chance.

No time like the present, they say.  

“Maybe I don’t need to shut you up so much as I want to hear you say something else instead,” And for the first time, it’s her own register that drops, words hushed as her cheeks flush despite herself. 

Astarion is quick to catch on, a knowing glint sparking to life in his eyes as he gleans something in her own gaze. In an instant, Rin feels an arm come to circle around her waist, dragging her closer to him until they’re flush together.

“And what is it that you have in mind, darling?” Her skin tingles where his hand rests upon her lower back, thumb brushing teasing strokes that send her mind swirling with a rush of delight at his touch.

Rin runs her hand up, drawing it across the expanse of his chest with enough pressure to make sure that he can feel the drag of it until it finds its home around his neck, her fingers curling into the hair at his nape.

She stays silent in the wake of his query, answering with only an innocent quirk of her lips before giving the path they’re standing on a quick, covert glance. She can see or hear no other being near them and, so long as they’re quick about it, she doubts anyone else will be coming this way. 

Hopefully.

“I must say, I’m intrigued. Are you thinking what I think you are thinking?”

“I guess it depends on what you think I plan to do.” She flicks her gaze back to his.

“I think that you want to—” Astarion’s voice cuts off and the smirk falls from his lips as Rin slides the hand from around his neck down his front and she lowers with it.

Rin looks up at him from under lowered lashes as her knees hit the dusty earth below her with a soft thump and she runs her hands up and down his thighs in teasing passes, thumbs pressing into the muscles of them intently.

He looks momentarily bewildered at the sight of her before him, expression going slack as his brows knit in surprise. Clearly, of all the things he expected of her, dropping to her knees on a decently well-trodden pathway wasn’t one of them.

For all the times he’s tasted her, Astarion’s yet to give her the same opportunity and she has plans to fix such a terrible discrepancy. He has no idea how long she’s waited to worship him like this—to touch and taste and learn his body as well as he’s studied her own.

She wishes that she had more time to make such an important scholarly pursuit, and the privacy of one of their tents would be vastly preferable, but Rin was nothing if not adaptable.

“Do you trust me, Astarion?” Rin asks. She’s waited patiently enough for weeks upon weeks upon weeks, she can easily manage another minute for a proper answer from him first.

He shivers just slightly under her touch as her hands still, and Astarion averts his eyes from hers for a moment before huffing a breath and returning her gaze.

“Stop asking me questions you already know the answer to.” The bite in his words is softened by their meaning, his swallow audible as he stares down at her, a veiled vulnerability shining in his eyes as they run over the planes of her face.

He’s flustered, and it’s an absolute wonder to see.

Her cheeks flush and her heart swells, despite that fact that she is technically still mad at him. Or at least she’s supposed to be. 

She can’t feel her agitation quite as keenly as she could a few minutes ago.

Rin had lowered herself onto her knees for only a few people in her lifetime, the act one she couldn’t say she had the most practice at. Men were always so typical, shoving themselves into her mouth without care until they reached their end; it was no wonder she rarely offered herself up in such a manner. 

But, Astarion—Astarion she knows will be different.

“I can’t promise to be the best you’ve ever had, but—”

“Don’t sell yourself so short.” Astarion cuts her off, his hand coming down to trace her jaw lightly as she looks up at him from beneath her lashes.

Rin leans her head slightly into his hand as it runs along the line of her face, turning slightly to press her lips against his fingers. “Is this alright, then? Will you let me suck your cock?” 

Astarion’s thumb brushes along the plush of her lower lip, and she takes the opportunity to open her mouth and nip at it playfully.

“Do you think you can take it, darling?” His eyes darken as her lips encircle the tip of his finger and she sucks, Rin relishing the almost imperceptible intake of his breath.

“I guess we’ll just have to see what I can handle.” 

“Well. By all means, then. Have at it,” Astarion says, eyebrows raising in smug challenge.

At his permission Rin’s hands jump to life, fingertips tracing up his covered thighs to hook into the waistband of his pants. She keeps her eyes on his as she slowly pulls them down, revealing his hardening length still hidden behind his underwear. 

She leans in to press kisses to the defined line of muscles along his hips, nosing his shirt out of the way as she runs her lips over the indentations of each and every one of them as she slowly traces her way down, moving ever closer to where his member twitches with every press of her lips.  

“I must say, our pretty little leader on her knees is quite a sight.” The words are meant to be easy, teasing; but the tightness in his voice belies any ease, his hips jumping as she traces her lips over the silhouette of him through his underwear.

Astarion chokes back a moan at the feeling and she smiles up at him, fingers playing at the edge of the final barrier between them before she begins to pull. Her fingers find his length once she’s freed it from his underwear, quick to run them down the velvet softness of his shaft as the deep green of her gaze meets the darkened ruby of his own once more.

“Only for you, Astarion.” Rin cuts off anything further he could have to say by leaning her head forward to press a searing kiss to the side of his erection before tracing her lips over his length.   

The first touch of her mouth against his cock has him exhaling sharply, one of the hands at his side coming up reflexively to rest atop top her head, fingers sliding through her curls as his hips jump.

She wastes no time as she licks a line across his slit, the heady saltiness of him hitting her tongue as she brings a hand up to grip him at the base, pumping him gently in her palm.    

“Does it feel good like this?” Rin swirls her tongue around the head of him, savoring her first real taste of his essence. “You’ll have to let me know how you like it, Astarion.”

His hand curls in her hair, brushing stray locks back from her face as he watches her mouth move along his length, tongue slicking across a vein before she finally wraps her lips around him.

“I assure you, you’re already doing a very, very good job.” He sags back against the crumbling stone facade of the wall as Rin takes him deeper into the warmth of her mouth, her hand pumping at the base of him as her lips work the rest that she doesn’t yet fit inside.

His praise sends a trail of heat straight to the core of her, pleasure of her own ebbing deep in her stomach as her thighs rub together. She leaves his length for no more than a second, adjusting her position on her knees before pressing more kisses to the side of him. “And this?” 

Astarion moans as her lips envelop him once more, sucking at his cock with hollowed cheeks as she takes him in, her hand moving in time with her mouth as she begins to bob her head.

“Decidedly perfect technique,” He’s practically breathless as he speaks, eyes closing as his head falls back against the wall behind him with a dull thud.

His moans echo off the ancient stone as she sucks and licks and kisses his cock, pouring every ounce of her wayward affection for him into this moment.

Astarion, she’s learned, doesn’t give up his iron-clad self control very easily; and Rin’s not going to let herself think about what it means that he trusts her enough to let her take care of him, even if it’s only like this.

It’s intoxicating to have him so utterly undone as she alternates her ministrations, each and every one only serving to push him further and further to the brink as she laves at his length, pleasure flitting openly across his handsome face.

She should tell him to be quieter, but she doesn’t have it in her to halt those beautiful moans and breathy gasps leaving his mouth, not when she revels in the sound of them far too much.

Rin pops off him to take a breath, tongue running around the crown of him before she renews her attentions, swallowing him down deeper and taking as much of him as she can fit into her mouth.

Dots of crystalline tears settle on her lashes as the head of him brushes against the back of her throat, but the ragged moan he releases is more than worth it, another bolt of heat surging down to the place between her legs.

She’s lucky she cares nothing for her reputation, because being found on her knees in front of her most dubious companion with his cock shoved deep down her throat would most certainly ruin it. 

“Such pretty noises you make, Astarion,” She hums as she pops off his cock, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his length as she breathes in another lungful of air. “Please don’t stop making them.”

The hands in her hair tighten as her mouth envelops the head of his length again and he whines, Rin once again savoring the tang of him as she sucks before taking him back into her mouth, deep again as he slides against her tongue.

“Fuck, darling—” She breaths through her nose as his thighs quiver, making sure to keep her mouth moving back and forth on his cock. “Don’t stop. Rin, sweetheart, I’m going to—”

Sweetheart. It was a new one from him, one that she finds that she likes. 

Quite a lot. 

He breaks off as Rin hollows her cheeks once more around him just as his cock hits the back of her throat again, stray tears breaking free to run down her cheeks and she can barely breathe with him like this in her mouth but can’t seem to find it in her to care. 

The thrill of finally being able to taste him and to bring him to the edge of pleasure is one she knows she would do anything to feel again, the weight of his cock nothing short of exquisite in her mouth.

She gives him a final suck and Astarion comes down her throat with a wanton moan, hips bucking as his brows crease and he cries out his completion, the sounds of his ecstasy nothing short of beautiful as they ring off the rock and stone and dirt around them.

Rin swallows his come down as his body quivers and his hips rut into her, the hands in her hair tightening into a vice grip as he rides her mouth. 

He tastes as perfect as she knew he would as words fall from his lips in a torrent—a chorus of praise, moans, and the occasional elvish word or phrase she doesn’t understand all flowing freely from his lips.

Rin lets him ride out his orgasm however long he pleases, a deep satisfaction coursing through her as she watches the pleasure painted across his features until his hips begin to slow and air he doesn’t need finally begins to return to his lungs.

“Dear Gods—” Astarion groans as his eyes open as the hands in her hair loosen  and he stares down at her, one of them migrating down from her curls to her cheeks, softly brushing away the tears that have tracked down the planes of her face.

She pulls off his softening cock slowly, taking in a much needed breath of air.

“Do you still question my decision making skills?” Rin licks off a stray drop of his come from her bottom lip before she smiles.

“Absolutely; and if this is the treatment I’m going to get every time I do, then I think I’ll have to disagree with you more often.” Astarion’s still catching his breath as he replies, but it doesn’t stop a wolfish grin from spreading across his face.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Astarion.” Rin gently tucks him back into his pants, patting his hip with a smirk before she rises back up to her full height, knees aching slightly with the motion. “If I did that every time we had a disagreement, I’m not sure I would have much time to do anything else.”

Astarion has an arm wrapped back around her waist in a mere moment and she’s pulled close again, the one hand still in her hair curving around the back of her head to tilt her face up to his own.

“Then maybe you should try to be less difficult, dearest.” His hand runs down, caressing the curve of her bottom before sweeping back up and around to hover at the front of her pants.

His touch sends a spark of heat down to her neglected arousal, Rin taking a steadying breath as she braces her hands on his chest. “If I were less difficult, you would be bored.”

Astarion chuckles as his fingertips dip below her waistband, more heat curling deep in her core as they quickly slip beneath the band of her underwear, intent to find the wetness that has settled between her thighs.

He wastes no time gliding them through her folds, running them up and down her center as Rin gasps, Astarion’s eyes intent on hers as he slicks his fingers with her arousal before finding her entrance and sinking two of them inside her with ease.

“I see I wasn’t the only one enjoying myself,” Astarion groans at the evidence of her own lust he finds waiting, pushing his fingers deeper.

“Far from it, Astarion.” She moans as her head falls forward onto his shoulder, eyes drifting shut as he curls them once, twice; her limbs tightening as he seats them fully inside her.

It would be so easy to let Astarion bring her to brink and push her over into euphoria, no doubt only a few quirks of his fingers and she’d be gone, clinging to him with every ounce of her strength as he makes her come. 

But she doesn’t want it to be about her. Not right now. 

Despite the breath that rushes free and the soft whine she lets out as Astarion pumps the fingers he has buried in her, the desire almost painfully hot in her core; Rin reaches one of her hands down to grasp his wrist, pulling his hand away from where she wants him most.

She’ll take care of herself later. She certainly has plenty of material to think about.

Astarion sends her a questioning look as he slips his fingers out of her, Rin’s hand still on his as she guides him out of her leggings. “Is there a problem, sweet? Need something else inside of you instead?”

Rin huffs a soft laugh as she intertwines her fingers with his, squeezing his hand. She fears that her expression is entirely too open as she looks up at him and her lips quirk into a smile, but it’s too late for her to take it back so she commits to it, letting a tiny bit of the feeling that’s been growing inside her show on her features.

“I just—it doesn’t always need to be about me. Take your pleasure and enjoy it. You don’t owe me one back, or anything silly like that.”

Astarion stares at her as his expression clouds with confusion, but the hand in hers doesn’t weaken, his grip still strong and sure. 

Rin stands up on her tiptoes, lips seeking his cheek as she bestows a light kiss upon it before whispering, “Thank you, Astarion, for letting me give you something for once. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

She steals her hand back, the slide of his skin against her own slow as she takes a step away from him, sending a little wave his way before she turns and walks back towards camp, leaving Astarion to stare perplexed at her retreating form.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Astarion sits perched on his favorite rock in camp, handsome and brooding, no doubt the perfect portrait of a mercurial and mysterious vampire to anyone with eyes who chose to look his way.

Or he would be, if anybody in this damn camp would pay any attention to him.

He rolls his eyes with a scoff as he directs his gaze towards the small group of idiots that are now his companions; a preposterous notion that he even considers them to be such. 

They make their merry by the fire, passing around a bottle of what is clearly a very strong whiskey if the faces they pull after taking swigs of it are anything to go by.

He can imagine the smell of it, smokey and stout, and is very glad to have a goblet of wine beside him instead. 

Whiskey was all fine and good and certainly had its uses, but it lacked the elegance of a fine wine; no whiskey ever as smooth on its own as a delectable vintage feels gliding over his tongue and down.

It’s a chilling thought that he’s been in such close contact with these fools for months now, Astarion learning all their little intricacies whether he wants to or not. 

Yet, he doesn’t find himself hating the growing familiarity quite as much as he did at the beginning. 

He knew his siblings, of course. But that bond was different, one forged by mutual fear and shared pain. He didn’t know what kinds of books they liked to read or what their favorite sweets had been. Instead, he knew how each of their screams sounded and how their bodies had looked torn apart under Cazador and Godey’s punishments, flesh rent from bone.

No, he firmly knew more about this merry little band of imbeciles he had been thrown together with than the six souls he had known for years and years and years, with one individual in particular standing out above the rest.

Astarion, it seems, now knew more about Rin than he had ever cared to know about another person in over 200 years. Useless, meaningless information she’s offered up about herself seemingly at random and without purpose or prize. 

She was a complete and utter fool.

And yet, he drank up each and every tiny piece about herself that she gave him as though it were her blood, flowing free and pomegranate-sweet from her neck. 

Astarion knew her favorite flowers—a hard choice, according to her, but she tends to favor the perfect, happy purple of the crocus a little more than the rest. 

He had rolled his eyes at this, swiftly informing her that flowers were essentially no more than useless, pretty things with little substance; and had earned himself a very sound swat upon his arm.

He knew her favorite foods—any sort of sweet berry at midsummer, along with a nice loaf of bread and perhaps some butter or cheese. 

Her taste in food was pitifully simple, though Astarion supposes a life on the Lower City streets didn’t usually imbue people with a terribly complicated palate for the finer delicacies life had to offer.

He knew that Rin did not know her father—only that he had been an elf come to the city on some sort of business from a far away place and Rin her human mother’s only token of remembrance from an affair she only wanted to forget about, and one she eventually did forget about when she left Rin to fend for herself.

She knew nothing of the Elvish ways and customs, nothing of the language that should sit so naturally on her tongue.

The knowledge that he could say anything he wanted to her in their language and she would be hopeless to ever understand him is one that tempts him in a variety of ways that he doesn’t indulge, lest his mind find its way heading into dangerous territory.

He knew that she’d had no sweeping romances with tender touches and soft sighs—only quick nighttime flings helped along by pints of cheap ale from equally cheap taverns and that while they had perhaps filled a need, they tended to leave her feeling more empty and decidedly less than, in the end. 

Astarion all too well understood that particular feeling. He hated that she had ever felt the same.

He readily ignores the inkling in the back of his mind warning him that he, perhaps, is no better than the others when he leaves her every night staring up at him, poorly concealed disappointment etched across her pretty face.

Uselessly, he also knew her favorite color—the deep, turquoise blue-green of the Chionthar on a clear day at noontime, naturally, when the sun sparkled off the undulating current of the water. 

It could never be anything quite so easy as simply ‘the color blue’ with her.

Astarion himself had long forgotten the color of the river, having only seen it as the darkened muddy blue-black of the midnight hours for centuries now.

Rin had been utterly shocked when she asked him for his own and he had told her he didn’t have one.

“You don’t have a favorite color? Astarion,” She had said aghast, drawing out the syllables of his name as her bright eyes had widened in surprise. 

He had no use for frivolous things like favorite colors. 

What colors, exactly, was he to have had the time to enjoy?

Certainly not the darkly stained, ornately paneled woods of the chamber he used to entertain his victims; or the gaudy, overly saturated reds and too brightly shined golds in that room meant to invoke opulence and luxury, yet another layer designed to further lure them into the fantasy he provided.

Nor the watery yellow glow of torchlight against the dull, muddied brown of wet cobblestones as he led whoever had been chosen that night back to the Szarr Palace, charming and seductive as he promised them his body and their control over it. 

There was nothing beautiful about the metallic shine of a silver cage in the kennel, dotted with the rusty brown of dried blood, though whether it was his own or belonged to one of his siblings he never really knew.

How was there to be any joy found in color beyond the allure of the deepest burgundy wine as it filled up his cup to help dull his mind as he lowered himself to do the things his mark that evening wanted of him, mind drifting to focus on anything else as he did whatever he needed to do in order to survive.

Astarion grimaces, throwing back another swallow of his wine as the thoughts leave him tinged with the sickly yellow-green of disgust and the feeling of shame: a blistering, burning, glowing red.

At first, right after the Nautiloid had crashed and he had escaped the closeness of that dreadful pod, his chest having constricted at the tightness of it around him—it was just another cage in the end, wasn’t it? Just another leash for him to be collared to—the riot of colors in the bright light of the sun had hurt his newly sensitive eyes as he had hid in the shadow of the wreckage.

It was only once he had realized he wouldn’t be burned to a crisp in the sunshine, a wonder in its own right, that he began to take notice of them all. There were far too many colors and all of them were so…so saturated; all the different shades and intensities unbearably overwhelming.

From the small green leaves of the scrubby trees, to the brown grains of sand, to the grotesque purple of the Nautiloid and the soon-to-be rotting corpses of mindflayers—terribly, horribly overwhelming.

She was overwhelming to look at when he first saw her, too. Shining eyes of emerald green, warm skin thoroughly kissed by the sun, dark blonde curls gleaming in the unbearable brightness of the light. That awful outfit she wore that marked her as none other but a bard, albeit one with terrible sartorial sense. 

Rin was the first person he had set eyes on in the sunshine in over 200 years and he had hated the very sight of her. 

She had been a clash of colors, all dreadfully uncomplimentary to him, that he shied away from the sight of. Colors like that were never quite so bold in the darkness that he was so used to, their vivacity dulled by dancing firelight and the shadows of night.

She was too brilliant to bear the sight of, utterly casual and downright flippant, too unbothered by it all to be trusted—though, he knows better now; and looking back he can see that her confidence was all nothing more than a well-executed performance on her part.

He still doesn’t feel bad about holding that knife to her neck as he had dragged her down into the coarse sand with him, the scent of her scarlet blood still rich despite it drying against her cheek, dots of it mixing in with the freckles that were scattered across her cheeks like the tiniest of constellations.

Perhaps that was his first mistake in all of this, allowing himself to get so near someone so dazzling and warm. It was like playing with fire—dance too close to the flame and you were bound to be burned. 

And going up into flames was something Astarion could not afford. 

But now, slowly, the color has begun to come back to him little by little and he could start to appreciate again it for the first time in centuries.

The precise cornflower blue of the sky on a cloudless day or the deep violet of it at twilight as the stars wink to life. 

The way sunlight dappled onto the ground through a forested canopy to illuminate the all the tiny flowers that grow up from the ground in a rainbow of colors—purples, pinks, yellows, blues. 

The myriad of all the different greens that he could now truly behold: the dark, bountiful leaves of a fern, a fragile spring green stem of a flower, the lush and verdant shade of her eyes.

Astarion still didn’t have a favorite color. Not really.

But he was coming around to the idea of having one.

A laugh carries across camp, melodic and light and lovely, dragging him from the depths of his musings over to where Rin sits by the fire, their companions all floating around her like moths to a flame.

He absolutely hates the way they all look at her. 

He can see it on their faces, a blatant adoration that she somehow seems to completely disregard for reasons he can’t fathom, instead intent to spend her time with him of all people.

But he cannot blame them, after all, because he’s no better. Just as desperate for her attention and her closeness, it seems, if the way his feet kept finding their way to her tent night after night was anything to go by.

Astarion wonders sometimes if they can see the very same hopeless look on his own face as he gazes upon her, despite how well he tries to hide it. 

Rin leans against Halsin as she laughs, cheeks flushing at whatever it is the oversized elf says to her. Her curls are unbound, falling freely around her tonight in a wave of shining gold to her waist and he wishes he could bury his fingers in the strands to feel the softness of them for himself. 

The druid does nothing to dissuade Rin from the circle of his arms as he claps a hand on her shoulder before sliding it down to the small of her back, smiling at her a touch too friendly for Astarion’s liking and a stab of something hits him straight in the chest.

Jealousy.

He has no claim to her, of course. He’s not made one and has no plans to. But the sudden thought of her underneath Halsin—or any of them, really—has his jaw clenching tight. 

The other elf is attractive and strong, no doubt a good lover; and the thought of the warmth he could so easily provide her that Astarion cannot churns his long-empty stomach.

He can see it all too easily, imagining Rin so very pretty with cheeks flushed pink and body inviting as Halsin leans over and takes her sweetness for his own.

He can see Rin on her knees, looking up at the druid with the same look of affection in her eyes that she had given him earlier that day as she had tasted him.

Or perhaps the worst thoughts of them all—Rin telling Halsin all the inane things she would normally bother him with; Rin playing tiny bits of melodies and sweet little songs on her lyre for Halsin while he whittles by the light of the fire; Rin writing the druid letters that she would then hide poorly in his tent, ensuring they can always be found and read and replied to— 

He was spiraling, and he needed to stop.

Astarion shakes the thoughts away with a frown, bringing his goblet back to his lips for another sip. He doesn’t know why she favors him so, why she allows him into her orbit when there’s a group full of others who would so readily take his place, all of whom would no doubt treat her better than he has. 

He wouldn’t blame her, if she sought after any of the others.

Certainly not after that night, the one where he had made her undress before him for his entertainment and then kicked her out of his tent when she was still wrapped up in the afterglow of what was a very intimate evening.

Perhaps too intimate.

His chest gnaws at itself at the thought of the way he had handled it all.

Astarion had lost count of how many times he had undressed in front of others, so many of their faces blessedly long blurred by time.

He had unbuttoned and unlaced countless of his shirts, pants, doublets—a liar’s allure painted upon his features as he gave whoever it was a show, forever the night’s entertainment for his quarry. 

Yet, he had made her do the same.

He had enjoyed it, too. He had enjoyed watching her undress solely for him, piece by piece, her gaze piercing his own as she reveled in his attention on her.

She hadn’t said no or objected to it. But he could see the challenge in her eyes just as easily as she could see right through him and his attempt to gain back his precious lead in their little game, the perceptive little thing. 

A strange feeling—remorse—settles itself in his chest as he watches her from across camp.

The remorse only grows the longer Astarion fixates on it, leading to more and more questions that he doesn’t have the answers to, the weight of them near unbearable upon his scarred shoulders.

The crushing reality was that his plan was crumbling bit by bit, like a tiny pebble crushed under foot; and the worst part about it was that he was finding it harder and harder to care. 

Rin has made it abundantly clear that she is on his side.

He’d seduced her, had won her sword (mediocre skill notwithstanding), and had long secured her dedication to his cause.

By all accounts, his plan is practically complete where she’s concerned.

All they needed to do now was get back to Baldur’s Gate and—well, he wasn’t quite sure what would come after they get back into the city, Astarion was still a little fuzzy on the details of it all, but she’d help him figure it out when the time came, of course. 

Rin was aways helpful when it really mattered.

So why is it that he can’t stop with the first part? Even if he were to decide to stop sleeping with her, he wasn’t particularly concerned that she would suddenly turn on him. 

He has no reason to find his way into her bed now; no reason other than his own selfish, deep-seated desire for her company and attention and affection.

Rin catches his eye in a poorly timed glance of his own, and smiles so full of a sickening fondness—nose crinkled and flushed cheeks—at him.

Faster than he can follow she’s out of Halsin’s embrace, gracing the druid with a playful smile and a pat on the shoulder before she saunters over to where he sits perched on his rock, limbs unnaturally loose as she pads closer—drunk indeed.

Astarion doesn’t miss the way the light from the fire limns her figure from behind, setting her aglow in a halo of golden-red as she finds her way over to him, something in his chest warming as she nears.

She sways slightly when she stops before him and he can smell the rich tang of the whiskey on her as she sends him a mischievous look that has his lips already quirking up at the corners. 

“You,” she pokes him in the chest to add an emphasis that he did not need. “Should come join us”

“And you,” he refrains from poking her back in response, though the thought amuses him. “Are drunk.”

Rin takes a step closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning forward, slotting herself between his legs and blithely ignoring the glances the motion garners from their companions.

Astarion’s eyes widen at the blatant display of affection, taken aback by the ease of it as the scent of her surrounds him—honey and flowers and all around loveliness. 

On anyone else he would hate the perfume she wears, but on her it smells nothing short of wonderful; tempting him to bury his face into her neck and breathe her in.

Her hands play with the hair on his neck, as they always seem to, delicate fingertips running through the waves and he resists the urge to lean into her soothing touch.

He can feel multiple sets of eyes upon the two of them, voices lowered into whispers as the group no doubt gossips. The nature of his relationship with Rin is far from a secret, he’s drawn too many beautiful sounds from her lips for anyone to be unaware of their trysts. 

Astarion secretly revels in the idea that they are quite possibly jealous of what Rin gives to him; something that none of them have ever received from her. 

So let them see, then. 

Let them see that it is him who she seeks out, his arms the ones she wants to find herself in, his lips the ones she wishes to kiss.

Astarion’s arms find their way to her waist with an uncomfortable ease, hands settling along the indent of it as his thumbs run up and down her covered skin without thought, dragging her closer between his legs until their faces are mere inches from one another’s, only the rock beneath him stopping her chest from pressing fully against his own.

“I’m not drunk enough, I fear.” Rin cocks her head to the side with a smile, as she whispers covertly to him. “Maybe, if you come share a drink with me, we can fix that.”  

Astarion allows himself the temptation to brush an errant curl away from her face, the lock just as soft as he knew it’d be, before matching her tone. “Don’t be such a lush, dear.”

“Oh, come on, Astarion. I know that you enjoy a good drink as much as I do. And I promise, the whiskey is good.” 

He swears that he can hear her breath hitch as his fingers accidentally brush against her cheek, her eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise as he tucks the curl behind her ear.

“Oh, I’ve got no doubt of that, my dear,” He chuckles, a corner of his mouth turning up without his permission. “If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be quite so tipsy in front of me.” 

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” Rin tuts, pouting. 

The way her bottom lip pushes out and her eyes widen under lowered brows is, dare he say, cute; and he can’t help the inward sigh that he’s now been relegated to thinking of a beautiful woman something as absurd as cute. 

It’s a blow to his seductive charm, surely, to use such a word to describe her; but all of the other adjectives he’s thought of in the past seem to had fled his mind under her spell when she looks at him like that. 

What in the absolute hells has she done to him?

“Pouting? Really, darling?” Astarion drawls, the hand he had used to tuck her hair back now brushing openly down her cheek in a touch that has her face heating to a most becoming shade of pink.

Rin instinctively leans into his hand and he resists the urge to cup her cheek, suddenly possessed by the want to draw her face closer to his.

“You don’t have to come drink with me at all, of course.” Her voice takes on that same tone it had taken on earlier, intention dripping from her words like the thickest of honey as her she bites her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth. “We can always go find something else to do instead. Just the two of us.”

The pink of her tongue peeks out to wet her bottom lip, soothing the place where she bit down upon it, and if Astarion hadn’t been paying attention already, he certainly would be now.

“Oh? Just the two of us?” He teases her, his other hand moving to curl around her lower back to pull her even closer, Rin curving herself into him, and Gods if the feeling of her against him didn’t feel like heaven. “What do you have in mind? A game of cards? Or, perhaps we should practice our calligraphy together, hm?”

Rin leans in to let her lips brush against the tip of his ear, Astarion barely holding back the shiver that threatens to break free as her hands comb through his hair and she speaks low, “I can make you feel good again, Astarion. If you want me to.”

Her words bleed with affection and genuine sweetness, and Astarion finds it very difficult to say no to her when she asks like that.

His mind flashes back to earlier, the image of Rin on her knees as she had waited for his answer, hands poised at his waistband streaking through his mind along with others as his stomach tightens. 

Her perfect lips wrapped around his cock, the feeling of coming down her throat, drops of diamond-like tears tracing down flushed cheeks, his hands buried in her hair.

How she had told him to take his pleasure and not worry about hers. A very sweet sentiment that he deeply appreciated for reasons he very much didn’t want to think about at the moment.

‘Thank you, Astarion, for letting me give you something for once,’Rin had said. 

As if she didn’t already give him plenty.

He’s thoroughly enjoyed being at her mercy, her touch always soft and gentle while she asks for permission. It had been so many years since he had indulged in wanting to be touched like that, and having affection heaped upon him by someone so eager to please him has quickly become nothing short of addicting. 

“Oh? And do tell, how you plan on doing that?” Astarion lets his fingers drift slowly up her spine, enjoying the way her body presses harder into his and her breath catches, the sound lovely.

“Follow me and I’ll show you,” Rin whispers as she steps out of the circle of his arms, swaying slightly as she does, and Astarion’s brows knit together in consternation.

She grabs his hand, and Astarion swears the feeling of hers wrapped around his could scald him, every nerve in his body set alight by that innocent touch.

He allows himself to be lead to her tent, content to follow after her with hands still connected; but there seemed to be a single glaring issue standing in Astarion’s way that he was apparently now unable to ignore. 

She was quite drunk tonight. 

Too drunk, according to a newer, still unfamiliar voice in his head. 

It’s a step too far for him now, or at least it is where she’s concerned; a step that, granted, months ago he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at taking. 

All the better if they were too drunk, it only made his job easier in the end.

But Rin’s not like that, she’s not a mark and she deserves so much better than being taken advantage of in such a state, even if for his plan or his own personal desires of her. 

She would be so easy to please like this, with the alcohol addling her mind. 

And oh, how he could please her. 

He could so easily touch and kiss and fuck any thoughts she may have about Halsin or any of the rest of them right out of her mind, ensuring that his name is the only one that falls from her lips.

She steps through the flap of her tent, her hand still holding his, and once he’s inside she’s turning again, wrapping her arms around his neck as she balances up on tiptoes, staring earnestly into his eyes. 

“I’ll do whatever you want, Astarion. Just tell me, I want to know more about what you like.” She sways again, and his arm wraps around her waist to steady her as their bodies press together.

“Let’s get you lying down, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t meant to say such a word earlier, but it had slipped out of his mouth as he had hit the burning, white hot peak of his pleasure at her worship. 

Astarion finds, though, that he likes the way it flows off his tongue when directed at her. 

It fits her well enough, in his opinion.

He lets Rin drag him to the ground until her back is against her bedroll and he hovers over her, staring down into hazy green eyes as her curls spread around her. She’s a vision like this, and he memorizes the sight of her without thinking to, his eyes moving to capture every inch of her before his mind even realizes what he’s doing and can tell himself to stop.

“And now, Astarion?” 

She waits on a bated breath, waiting, as his eyes finding their way again to her lips.

Kiss her. That voice in the back of his mind is nothing but a traitor as it whispers to him, knowing full well he can’t give in to such dizzying impulses like that on a whim.

He knows better than to allow himself to kiss her. Because once starts he won’t be able to stop.

It would be so easy to fall into her, to kiss her into utter oblivion and lose himself in the body she so readily offers. To forget all about his pathetic life if only for the little bit of time they steal away to spend together in temporary bliss.

But it always comes back after. 

The memories, the reality of who is he and what he’s done, the feeling of his skin crawling in the aftermath of so many hands that have touched him without permission.

Her touch is different, but when he’s been touched thousands of times by thousands of people, it all seems to blend together in the end no matter what he wants—even if hers is the only one he wants to think about and remember the feeling of, thoughts of her consuming him even with just a gentle brush of her arm against his.

“And now, darling, you sleep.”

He doubts she’ll remember much come morning, the whiskey burning through her veins hotter than a flask of alchemist’s fire; but Astarion finds that he wants to be remembered, if only by her, just this once.

Wants her to remember their time together the way he always will. If they survive this, even when he has his freedom and is long gone to wherever it is he wants to go—he will always remember. 

He ignores the stutter of loneliness that pangs in his chest as he imagines ever so briefly what his freedom will look like when he’s on his own with no one else around.

It would certainly be quiet. Perhaps even peaceful. 

He would be able to spend his time however he wished it in the solitude, not a soul around to bother him with foolish chatter unless he went in search of such a thing. 

Strange how the thought of it doesn’t hold the same appeal that it once did.

A hand running along his cheek draws him out of his thoughts, dragging him back to the present as Rin looks up at him, eyes soft and yet somehow still managing to pierce straight through his un-beating heart as she studies his features.

“I meant it, you know—what I said to you that night. You don’t have to fuck me, Astarion. You can come sleep with me and we can just lay together. Or even just talk. I know my conversation doesn’t mean much, but—” She cups his cheek in her palm, the tenderness of it threatening to burn him to cinders. “It doesn’t have to be just about sex between us. We’re friends too, aren’t we? Friends can simply enjoy each other’s company and presence and take care of each other, can’t they?”

She’s babbling, words falling out of her mouth freed by the whiskey; but the innate truth he hears in them threaten the remaining bits of resolve that he has left.

Astarion’s not quite sure who she’s trying to convince—herself or him—but his determination wanes regardless, like a thread pulled too tight and on the verge of snapping.

But it wasn’t just about the sex, and if it’s not just about his plan, then what was it about?

He’s fairly certain friends don’t typically know each other’s bodies as intimately as they do, or know how beautiful they look as they fall apart, or find themselves craving nothing more than to simply exist with the other near.

Friends probably also don’t think about each other in the depths of the night when they’re cold and alone and hurting, the thought of the other a shining light in the eternal darkness of their existence.  

Astarion, though, has never had any friends that he can remember.

With more gentleness than he would prefer, Astarion removes her hand from his cheek and rights himself to a kneel, his knees finding their home on either side of her hips. 

He holds her hand within his own, turning his attention where he cradles it in his palm. Her hand is smaller than his, several calluses along the places where she holds her rapier and her quill, fingers still decorated with the ink she must have used earlier to write him a very scathing letter.

He had briefly considered tearing the letter to bits, the words contained on the piece of paper properly irritating and, in Astarion’s opinion, practically libel, but he couldn’t do it; instead relegating it to the pile where he keeps all the other useless slips of parchment from her in a neat stack hidden out of plain sight in his tent.

Her letters were, after all, the first tangible thing anyone had given him since he was bestowed with his sanguine hunger, his dark curse. 

And whether he wants to admit it or not, he’s so far been unable to find a valid reason to rid himself of them, useless though they may be.

Before he can catch himself, he’s leaning his head down to the hand he holds within his own, and with a damning softness he brushes a kiss onto each of her ink-stained fingertips where they had touched his face, lips light against them before placing a final, reverent kiss in the center of her palm.

She’s looks as though she’s not even breathing when Astarion raises his head to stare down at her, her hand still clasped in his own. 

He can hear the beat of her heart, drumming loudly against her ribcage with a rhythm he’s become so very familiar with, and he can smell the ambrosia of her blood as it soars through her veins.

Even in the darkness he can see the pink of her cheeks and the freckles that dust over the tops of them and he’s half-tempted to count them, wishing to brush his fingers over each and every one of them, if only to feel his skin against the sunny warmth of her own.

But it’s too much, and he’s spiraling downdowndown again into the depths of somewhere he’s not yet ready to be, and so he needs to leave. Needs to leave for the same reason he has to leave her every night, despite the weakness that has him indulging in anything and everything else she’ll afford him.

He has no other choice, for when she speaks such innocent words to him, offering him the simple solace of rest so full of a tender, blossoming affection, he’s filled with a want so heavy it threatens to drag him under.

Because if Astarion allows himself to give in—to know what it would be like to be warm, comfortable, safe—he knows he would never be able to go without it again.

Warmth, kisses, attention, kindness—all heaped upon him without wanting anything in return. No money, no favors, no motive other than her pure wish to spend time with him.

It’s a good thing his heart no longer beats, for if it did, Astarion has no doubt that she would be able to hear the rampant sound of it in his chest just as he can hear her own.

He rests her hand back down, letting it settle across her stomach as he swallows down the torrent of things that threaten to break free from him, Rin looking at him with a confused sort of wonder, as though he were a puzzle she was trying desperately to fit the pieces of together in her mind.

“Good night.” He stands to leave, movements as quiet as the night around them thanks to the unnatural grace he possess, before turning toward the tent flap. “Sleep well, my darling.”

He’ll allow himself that much, at least; for what was the harm in letting himself indulge in getting to call her his own just this once, if only to see what it feels like?

“You too, Astarion.” He turns his head briefly at her whispered words and meets her eyes, something molten and unguarded smoldering in her gaze as she watches him leave.

He can’t bear the sight of it a moment more, another utterance from her all it would take for him to succumb to his most secret desires—things he can barely stand to admit to himself—and so he turns his head forward and walks back out into the darkness, letting the honest and true longing that has been slowly burning him from the inside out finally consume him. 

[riseatlantisss]

A New Beginning

Pairing : Astarion x gender neutral!reader, short and sweet one-shot

A/N: Minor spoilers for Astarion’s arc in BG3. The first half is from reader’s POV, the second half is from Astar’s POV, hope its not too confusing! Enjoy! Written while listening to this on repeat TW : mentions of abuse, trauma, PTSD, but most importantly : lotsss of cuddles

English isn’t my first language, sorry for any mistakes <3

It’s unlike anything else, the vivid pain of helpless past trauma that radiates through the body like a burn, the horror of it tight as a fist around the throat. Astarion knows it all too well. But in that moment, safe in his bed with the love of his life in his arms, the pain heals.

The room is pitch black as you wake up, except for the dim light of a candle glowing from your nightstand. The air around you feel cold, but the bed is warm and comfy. You don’t feel like getting up just yet. Astarion is laying on his side, facing you, eyes closed. Messy white curls are falling on his forehead and his arm is wrapped around your waist. You smile as you contemplate your so-called scary, blood-thirsty vampire boyfriend’s cute bedhead. He looks pretty damn adorable.

"You realise it's rude to stare, don't you?" Astarion says, voice gravelly and eyes still closed peacefully. "How did you know I was staring?" You ask, almost shocked. "It comes with being a vampire, darling!" He replies before tightening his grip around your waist and pulling you nearer. 

You chuckle and roll on top of him. He pulls you even closer and holds you there for a long, delicious moment. Your fingers clutch on his curly silver hair. Since Astarion made the shattering discovery that physical contact did not necessitate pain, he has been eager to use touch for comfort. Fortunately for you, when it comes to touching him, you can never get enough.

His fangs glimmer like daggers as he brushes them along your skin, devouring you with kisses, drawing his lips lower and lower until they are resting above your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. His skin pale and his eyes red, burning brightly in the near-darkness, sharp and piercing, he glows in the dim light of the room.

The way Astarion feels in your arms—the mixture of fragility and tensile strength—makes the protectiveness surge in your chest. His warmth pierces straight through 200 years of vampiric cold. Sometimes you find yourself thinking about all the horrors he had to endure under Cazador’s control, and you shiver. You know how tough he is. Everyday he gets up to fight the same demons that left him so tired the night before. And that, my love, is bravery. You think, running your fingers through his hair and down his neck as he lets out a long sigh of joy and relief. You are so proud of him. He is free now and that’s what matters most but what’s done is done, and you’ll never be able to protect him from the past.

“Astarion, are – are you happy?” You timidly whisper, a barely noticeable worry in your voice.

Was he happy ? The words resonate in Astarion’s mind. No one ever asked him that. No one ever cared about his feelings. Never. Before you, it used to be simple. Someone else did all the thinking for him. He never had any question to answer. Hunt victims for Cazador, entertain Cazador, push through the pain of his constant abuse, and repeat. So fucking cruel, but so fucking simple. Now it is all so... complicated. Everything is different. Now, he has someone who truly cares for him ? A friend ? A lover ? Gods help him.  

But it's true. You hadn’t done anything but go out of your way to make Astarion happy since the day you’d met him. Even if he thought he was the last person that deserved to be happy. Yet every time he holds you in his arms, he is. He is the best kind of happy, a pure and wonderful happy that lights up his insides and makes his dead heart beat again. He actually didn’t think a vampire could get this happy. Brooding is in the job description. Angst is a part of the daily routine. Nobody can be a vampire without some anger issues and major emotional baggage. But in that moment, safe in his bed, holding the love of his life in his arms, he is nothing but happy. He is home. That is a gift and one he will be eternally grateful for.

Hoping actions would speak louder than words, he decides to keep quiet and pulls you in for a long, sweet kiss, holding you even tighter, never ever wanting to let you go.

“I love you,” he breathes softly after a while, keeping his mouth as close to yours as he can. “I love this. And I want it all.” 

[knightyoomyoui]

TWICE Sana x M/F Reader - "I Want It That Way"

I'M BACK. After 3 months of no update, your one and only Knight Yoo-Myoui returns to bring you readers more stories in my book. Author's been in a really tough situation especially last month, but that still ain't gonna be enough to take out my passion and motivation to continue writing for both mine and your entertainment. I'm gonna continue this as long as I can. However, from now on; please understand and expect that I won't be updating very often like weekly or everyday as before. Studies is my current priority as of the moment but I promise that I will always update yall. Actually though, this new kind of pacing for both my writing procedure and publishing has somehow lessen the pressure in me. I'm really liking it so far, makes me comfortable. This story is requested by ShaShaSha029 BUT..., sorry Sha because I made some changes on your requested plot hehe. I already made the same concept from my previous works so I used your other request from another member to come up with something new that I haven't done yet. And as for the other member you requested to me, I'll give you a brand new plot for her. I hope you and the readers will like this. Enjoy reading! STREAM "I GOT YOU" and "ONE SPARK" MVs btw!

"I'm going home, guys. I'll leave the office to you all."

YN/LN, a current 4th year student from Cheongnamdong Polytechnic University and the campus' ongoing president of the student council, has just finished your tasks for today and is now about to depart from their office and send your goodbyes to your fellow members kindly to end the day on a positive note.

"Be safe on your way home, Pres!"

"You too."

You continued walking after sending him all the bright greetings, but before passing to your own cubicle and reaching the door, it opened. You then heard some footsteps behind it until a familiar figure made its presence known in front of you.

You watched your classmate, friend, and the secretary of their council, Yoo Janghoon, peeking at the door with a weird smile before you find him standing on your way.

Janghoon then approached YN.

"Seems like you're about to leave."

"Yeah." You nodded. " What's with your smile in your face? You look like you just saw something amusing.", he said in a judgmental look.

"Not with my own eyes, but the words I've heard are enough to picture her on mind." Janghoon smirked and bounced his brows.

"Her? You're into hunting chicks again?"

"Idiot, I have a girlfriend now, ofcourse I'm not." Janghoon mocked YN as he was about to throw a punch. "But seriously though, not even me could deny that it really does interest me."

"Why, what's going on out there?"

"Well, I've heard from my acquaintances from the other courses that there's a newly transferred female student here in the campus earlier after the class break."

"That late?"

"Yeah, I was a bit confused too but they said the professor just let it passed because they said that her documents were finalized at the last minute so that's why." YN hummed to react.

"And would you like to enlighten me what's so interesting with this random transferee student? I mean, no offense. Welcome aboard to the university but... what's special?"

"Dude, I'm telling you, it's not just "random", this girl was a legit bombshell. Based from how they described her, it was like when she stepped on the room, they felt like there was a legit goddess that got manifested into reality."

"And that's it?"

"Y-yeah... but you know and I know, dude. Our university has been missing it's "queen" for quite some time now. And probably the students are making noise about it is because they see a huge potential on her."

"Okay. Well, I do hope she doesn't feel overwhelmed with the attention she's about to receive on the next days of her stay here."

"But we're here as the council officers to take control, right?"

"Exactly." you nodded. "Anyways, gotta go now. I still have a family dinner not to miss."

"Alright, take care pres."

"You too, sec."

You left the office and the campus with a curiosity forming in your heart and mind on the identity of this woman that has been the center of the gossips you were unaware of due to how busy you are on the duties.

Arrived at home, you entered and got welcomed by your mother who is preparing their table for a lovely dinner tonight while your father is busy watching basketball on the living room.

"Good evening, mom."

"Good eve, YN. Tired?", she said while placing the plates on the table.

"Not that much but I would be glad to rest as always.", you spoke with a timid smile.

"Perfect, meal's coming right up real soon. Join your father there, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, mom."

You walked near to your father and greeted him courteously. You sat beside him and laid your back comfortably on the soft cushion of the couch to release all the pent-up exhaustion your body has consumed on today's packed class schedule.

Minutes later, your mother commands both you and your father to position yourselves on the seats. Each grabbing their own meal, all of you started praying first before taking your first bites and swallow on such a delicious food.

"Uhm, dear. We want to talk to you about something." Your mother inserted a topic to be discussed.

"Sure, mom. I'll be listening. What is it about?"

"It's like a business talk but this also concerns about your personal life too, YN which we much rather prioritize." Your father said after swallowing his throat. "We meet up with our partners on the company regarding this and we all come to an agreement."

"Agreement to what?"

"Me and your mother are placing you in an arrangement contract with their child."

"Wait, come again?"

"Arrangement contract. It means we set you up with someone as your age to date and marry one day, and we figured out that to strengthen the connection between us, we decided to-"

"Yes, wait. I know that part, dad but... why need to? Wasn't it too early? I get that you want me to have a wife and a family someday but... it's not one of my priorities so far.", you complained.

"YN, please do understand that your mother and I ain't be getting younger as time goes on. Someday, you'll be alone, and we just wanted to give you another family that you would be glad to remain and... hopefully, to remember us like how we raised you from the beginning."

"But wasn't this too fast? You're making me rush things."

Both sides went silent, as the father felt guilty also for how true your words are.

"It's my life. You may be the one who gave me that but I developed and earned a right to decide what's right for my future."

"We know, son... but we had no choice. It's for the sake also of our business. You know that we have to keep it to the mountain top so that we don't have our efforts of raising it go to waste, especially when this is the main reason how me and your mother were able to give you a better life that you deserve. And some way or another, you will be for sure, the one who will take the mantle and own my properties. You can use it also to raise your family easier."

"We are not forcing you to do this, YN. Please, we just wanted to inform you and talk about this because you also have a side and opinion to be heard. Whatever your answer may be, we will respect it. We are just suggesting, but hopefully you can consider it, honey." Your mother's soft voice effectively kept you at ease more.

Taking deep breaths and a short length of silence to contemplate, you looked at them both as you made your choice. "Fine. This is because I love you both and I owe you two everything. I'm doing it."

They both smiled in relief. "Thank you for this, son/daughter."

"No problem. So... can you tell me more about this contract?"

"Well it's simple, an arranged contract but we requested to have you and the girl we chose to spend 30-days or let's say a month to get to know each other and figure things out if you two would believe that everything will work out as a couple." Your father explained.

"And who's the girl that you guys have prepared for me?"

"They have an only child just like us, and it's an easier idea to place her because as we learned, their daughter is currenly in search of finding somebody to love."

"Sadly, we're unalike."

"But she may be able to change your mind, on whatever that hold your heart back. You accepted the offer, now you just have to see how she really is, but we're certainly sure that she's good just like her parents."

"And what's her name?"

"We haven't been introduced nor asked for her name, but from what we know, her nickname should be "Minatozaki", and is Japanese. She was also studying now at the same campus as yours."

"I'll try to look for her and maybe we can talk there privately."

"Whatever you want, YN. Just keep us updated okay?"

"Noted." You replied before everyone returned on focusing to finish their foods.

The next day, you were a bit irritated from how the discussion last night distracts you in the middle of your duty. You couldn't concentrate at the curiousity that dwells inside of you.

So you decided to to take a break outside. You encountered a vacant spot to breathe some fresh air and drink at the iced coffee you prepared on your tumbler as you roam your eyes around at your surroundings.

That's where you spotted some group of students huddling around at a spot near the bulletin board, as if they're being crazy or attentive at something.

Eager to find out the rucus, you approached the scenario and tried to peek around, and there you noticed a female student entertaining the other fellow students by asking her randomly and even asking for some pictures like she is a celebrity.

As she turned around, her long chestnut colored hair flips around as if it denied the gravity, her side profile appeared, until it all fully rotated to have her face evident at you for the first time.

And my oh my the rumors shared by your secretary were true.

No wonder why she was already popular, she does look magnificent, enough to be mistaken as a famous personality.

Your eyes couldn't leave the sight of her just doing everything even in such bare minimum if movements that still effortlessly made her very attractive. Thankfully, there's your boy distracting you as you snapped back when you felt a shoulder wrapped on your neck.

"You finally met her." Janghoon said, smirking at you. "From what I heard earlier, the exchange student's name's Minatozaki Sana. She's a foreigner, a Japanese to be specific."

"Minatozaki?" Your thoughts murmured. Contemplating if you heard it right, but that was the same surname your father was tasked you to find, and she even has the same nationality.

Having exchange students in your campus are very rare.

You are flabbergasted as you slowly realize that... this woman is going to be the one you'll date and marry.

Unconsciously, you turned around at Janghoon with your forehead crumpled and mouth slightly gaped.

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh n-no. Not-thing." You shook your head swiftly. Returning your gaze back at her, you couldn't believe it at all that your parents and her friends does picked a perfect girl for you.

But you wondered if it could be said the same about you.

Hours later, Sana who was about to enjoy her recess, instead went to the council office to meet the president, as per the classmates told her after being tasked to do so.

She stepped in front of the door that says "Student Council Office, knock twice before entering". She followed and slowly pushed the doorknob. A person sitting at the far end of the room, looking busy on his desk greeted her.

As the door closed, it alarmed the president that the person is now here for a scheduled conversation, only that when you raised your head, you looked at her having a shocked reaction.

Sana stares at the reveal of this mysterious person that runs the entire student government of the campus. Flashbacks began to run back into her mind, slowly making her upset.

"Thank you for agreeing to come here and t-"

"Am I looking at this very clearly?" Sana immediately spoke.

"Pardon?"

"You? Out of everyone here... was chosen to become a leader?"

"W-what? Settle down, miss. I think you n-"

"A representative figure for everyone, and I get to be under your orders around here?" Sana chuckled bitterly. "I didn't know that even after years later, we'll still have our paths crossing onto each other despite how I wanted to never meet you in my life again."

"D-do we know each other?"

Sana scoffed as she looked at you ridiculously. "Ofcourse, how could you recognize me. First of all, I was just a complete nothing to you. A plaything of your cruel antics and delinquent actions. And second, I'm not the same girl you used to belittle everyday."

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at her intently. "W-what... you..."

"Still doesn't ring a bell? Oh, how about this. The name Minatozaki Sana? That fat nerdy girl back in elementary that you used to bully so hard in our 8th year that forced her to transfer to other school. How about that?"

Your eyes sprung open as you instantly remember the name and that student you used to include in one of your prime victims in your dark past.

That description of her past self brought you back to the times when you remembered looking for her first to rather mock, annoy, or play with her until her feelings broke and look helpless.

You were a bully before in elementary days, and she was your classmate back then. But that was all only the past now as you are now a changed person, with all the better and positive things that came into your life had taught you more valuable and nice things to consider yourself reevaluating your personality.

But it looks like it could tell the opposite for Sana's part.

"I remember you now, Sana. And... please, let me tell you right now that I'm not the same person you used to despise before."

"Do you really think I'll be fooled easily by that?" Sana retorted. "We just met after what... 7 years and you're supposed to have me believing that when in fact, I still look at you as that same horrific figure I never should've want to see again, but yet here you are."

Sana still didn't took a seat. She walked around and observed the room. You were a bit relieved that all of your council members are absent in this tense confrontation. "What a hypocrisy it is to have you getting involved in an organization that focuses on student rights when in fact, you have a record of violating it before. Shouldn't be a student fitting for that must be... clean?"

"Sana, believe me or not, I changed. I wouldn't even dare to take this position if I'm not sincere for it, and I'm not forcing you to believe me."

"Oh, ofcourse you should. Because I really don't buy everything that comes into your mind not until I see it" Sana shook her head and smugged. "Maybe it'll change my mind of me planning to expose you from every-"

"Wait! You can't be serious?"

"Oh indeed I am." Sana clicked her tongue. "You ruined me before, but here I am who helped myself and from people I loved to become this better version of mine to stand here in front of you, I'm going to get you this time, YN. I'm going to make you feel what is it like being... excluded."

She leaned forward on the desk, staring at you sharply and observing your nervous expression. "But...if there's some sort of a miracle that... you did changed. Then you're going to prove it on me. Make me convinced that this YN I hate with every fiber of my being is... gone."

"What if I tell you that you already have a chance to make me?"

"And that is?"

"Have you heard about an arrangement contract from your parents?"

"Y-yeah... but they don't tell me who it is because- WAIT" Sana quickly lunged back away from you. "Please tell me who I'm thinking is correct."

"Sorry to tell you but I was just in denial as you are yesterday."

"Oh God." Sana poured out the biggest disappointment she felt in her entire life so far. "W-why does my fate has to be very unlucky everytime when it's about you? Me being in an arranged contract with you? I think I have to vomit."

"Wait! But you said you want me to prove that I changed?"

"And you really think I want it this way?" Sana looked at you disgusted. "Being as this fabled student council president or just a random student from me would be fine but... YOU AS MY FIANCE? That won't do, mister." Sana swayed her pointing finger. "Unfortunately, the answer would be NO. Now please, I have to go already. I still have a lunch to take before I lose my appetite."

Sana walked away from you and left the room unbotheredly. You sat there, back falling flat on your swivel chair. Your hands caressed your hair as you reacted unbelievably and stunned that this heavily improved Sana that you used to know many years before has returned to actually be your woman, but unfortunately, her hatred for you still lives on her till this day.

Her opposal didn't worked however, as Sana tried to request later during dinner, she was informed by her parents that the contract can only be cancelled after 30-days for the people to finally reassure their decision.

She mentioned that YN and her have a bad history in the past, but instead her parents reasoned out that maybe YN has changed and it will not hurt to give another chance. If only they know what the real reason it is, but Sana was clearly affected by their suggestion because honestly, Sana is a forgiving soft type of person.

Still, confident that she's satisfied with her answer, she became impatient and hated being with YN more.

Meanwhile, you shared to your mother about how the unlikedness of you and Sana's interests about the marriage arrangement in a deatiled manner.

"We met and had a talk, but... it wasn't as proper and civil as I expected because, I was surprised that she confessed something very familiar to me. Something that I've been trying to get it out on my head. Something that I wanted to let go for a long time."

"What was she to you before?"

"A nuisance, even though she wasn't doing even wrong. I look at her before thinking it wasn't right for her to be in this type of high class campus that I study at too, but then I figured out that me ending up bullying and making her emotional and mental state suffer is way worse than she is."

You flinched when your mother slapped you in the head. "What??? How could you bully someone?! Is that how we raised you?"

"Mom, wait ofcourse no... but, I was just made to be like that because of what happened to us, you know that!"

Your mother became speechless and a glimpse of pity became visible to you. "But it's all good now, mom. I'm not like that anymore, I'm telling you.  And that's what I should've just wanted to prove to Sana but... I understand that she won't let me anymore. I broke her too much, I can't let it happen again."

Stepping closer in front of you, she placed her hands gently on your shoulders to massage them and make your ease down. "Even I was mad and disappointed that you once turned into that type of guy you never should be, but I know from the bottom of my heart that you will always be a good kid of mine because that's how I raised you to be. You just got affected too much by our struggles before. And I believe you always, YN. The only thing I can do now for you to support you, and that is for you to keep on moving forward and never stop to make Sana forgive you, alright?"

"I will. Thanks, mom."

She patted you on the cheek. "Goodluck, okay? You have a month to do it."

----------

"Okay, class dismissed. Group 1, remember to prepare your report by next week okay?"

"Yes, prof!", the students who are part of the group that the professor mentioned chanted.

The professor left the room, leaving the students have the freedom to eat lunch during their vacant time.

"Sana, cmon! Did you bring a lunch with you?", one of Sana's classmates asked her while she's clearing her table.

"No, I'm gonna buy for today."

"Nice, let's go!"

Sana brought her wallet and cellphone with her, joins her newfound friends named Miyeon and Sullyoon as they make their way out to the classroom.

However, as they were about to, a figure suddenly pops out of the doorway, stopping their tracks. The two classmates of hers had a visible shock in their faces unlike to Sana, her bright mood quickly shrank down into a gloomy one.

"Hi, sorry if I'm almost late." You straightened your lips. "Good thing I was about to catch you leaving yet, let's go eat lunch together."

Miyeon and Sullyoon's jaw dropped at the student council president's proposal. Sana's eyebrows knitted hardly. "Huh? What nonsense are you saying?"

"Why? I'm just going to invite you to eat with me?"

"With you?" Sana scoffed and chuckled. "You have the guts, I'll give you that... but NO." Sana leaned forward at you to say this.

"Let's go girls."

Sana was just commanding her classmates and taking a step again away from you but in her surprise, she felt her body being pulled by a force. She tried to process what happened, and there she found her skin contacting with yours as she stood by your side...

with your hands wrapped around her waist.

Miyeon and Sullyoon's eyes largened in utter shock at what they're seeing. They couldn't believe that such a new transferee would get to gain closeness and change the behavior of the famously respected and knowned leader of the students around the campus.

Sana's lungs skipped functioning as soon as she felt your fingers dug deeper into her skin. Her face then starts to turn red and her face showing almost hilariously stunned reaction, with no hint of an idea what has turned you to be like this today.

"Pardon me for Sana's antics right now, we just had a fight yesterday and I wanted to come up a solution to fix that." You said in a melodic and apologetic tone to them. Sana was dumbfounded at the ridiculous fake words you are talking about.

"W-wha"

Sana wasn't able to finish her words, when she felt herself getting pulled again, now squeezed against your body which intensified her heartbeat and blushes.

"So, please. Can we eat together today, love?"

Any words that are synonym to what I mentioned earlier can be heavily applied now to all three women witnessing the sudden change of the president's act.

You led the way, bringing Sana with you as both crossed the hallway with the confused and flabbergasted duo following on the back while some of the students can see the two having this kind of contact has began to grab attention.

As they reached the cafeteria, Miyeon and Sullyoon shyly approached the "couple". "Uhm, Sana. I think we can just eat sometime. We'll let you have you two your private time okay?"

"B-but w-"

"Thank you for being considerate on us, girls." You smiled humbly at them and they nodded before they left you and Sana to find their own seat. As the two of you remained, Sana's face crumpled and seethed much air to unleash her full force on escaping to your touch.

She quickly unhooks your arm on her waist, pushed you aside, and punched you in the shoulder. "Oww!"

"Seriously, what the hell did you do to me, YN?!" Sana started to bicker out on you. "How come you just started to spit out and let my friends hear and see you assuming that we have a relationship now, huh?! Did you ate something bad that had you acting like crazy today?"

"Nope. I'm perfectly fine, and what I did there earlier, consider getting used to that." You replied. "Because from now on, I'll be going to do it with you again and again and again a-"

"Woah wait no what?!" Sana paused you. "And why is that, huh? I haven't even agreed yet on the deal-"

"But was the contract got cancelled?"

Sana fell speechless. She remembered yesterday that she swore to dump the contract by requesting to her parents after she gave her disapproval. However, she failed to do so.

You took her silence as yes. "I suppose it didn't. If it does, my parents would've informed me immediately."

"Yeah yeah yeah, you won. So what? You still can't just do it like that to me randomly. I still haven't gave you the consent to touch me or do anything lovey dovey around me. Just because the contract states that we are arranged to be a couple that doesn't mean I can let you easily do everything free around me. Especially when the fact that I still hate you so much." Sana pointed at you as she stares deeply within you.

"Alright, fine. You do have a point. I shouldn't have done it. It's my fault, I made you uncomfortable, and I'm sorry for that." You spoke in a calm tone. Sana got her insides tugged at your sudden softer behavior. "But just know this, I hope you can let me do these with everything I can. No matter how much you deny, we are still stuck in an arranged contract that has a month allowed on us to come up on a decision if we'll take a marriage, and that gives each of us the right to do what couples does.

And I'm going to use it also, for me to prove myself to you that I've changed through all these years, Sana. Consider it me acting or say whatever you want, but when it comes to you, I'll show my improved self and nothing less than that." You said plainly to her. Sana is just listening at you patiently, sticking out important details to her mind while her emotions were a bit being brought by your committed words.

"I can't force you to love me back and have our marriage settled someday after the deadline comes, I wasn't even into love these days but I had no choice but to follow. But, I really do hope that before or when these all ends, I can hear you saying that I am now forgiven."

Sana was struggling to come up for a words to answer, and you took the opportunity to let her have time to remember and process everything as you locate a seat and bought foods for both of you. You left the still pissed off Sana became completely silent and come back to join her in an awkward lunch together.

That went on and on, with you trying to get along with Sana through most of the occasions. You supposed to take it all as a yes coming from Sana that you were being a chance to prove everything to her that you are not this same bad person she used to resist before.

With your frequent actions around Sana led to the campus knowing also about your rumored relationship with her.. Some were supportive that the president finally get to have a girlfriend such perfect as Sana while some were not due to the reason of jealousy most concerning about the fact that they are not the ones standing on the shoes or position of either you or Sana.

That didn't affected both of you, especially Sana who is trying her best to become unbothered with all of these because she is too tired to explain it to many people for some truth that everyone wouldn't accept easily. She knows it all to herself anyway that it's all part of the act, that none of them are interested with each other or has a growing fond being developed.

Not until one day, she accidentally finds you tutoring a female student in the library. She saw how entertained you are on how easily the girl gets to understand quickly with your teaching, thus turning you both looking happy together.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable at the scene, her lips unconsciously forming into a frown. Sana instead leaves the room and went on to return with her friends who noticed her bad mood as she buried her head around her crossed arms on the desk.

It all procceeded until their next subject when the girls tried to approach her about it. "Hey, Sana what's with the grumpy look?" Miyeon said as she peeked at Sana who looks completely out.

"You weren't participating with us lightly, what happened when you left the room earlier?" Sullyoon added.

"Yeah, you seemed in a no good mood."

"Nothing." Sana blabbered.

"Was it YN?"

"I said NOTH-" Sana paused and realized that she just made herself obvious, Miyeon and Sullyoon were just staring at her.

"Welp, that confirms it." Sana sighed. "Care to tell us what's the problem?"

She remained silent. She wasn't sure why she's getting a bit embarassed to reveal it until she also got nervous when her friends began to list down some of the possible things a couple creates problems.

"Was he cold to you today?"

"Hmm maybe you're the one who's not?"

"Or... could it be somebody's jealous-"

"What, no?!" Sana rapidly reacted. Miyeon and Sullyoon exchanged a "gotcha" look.

"Oh unnie, you're too obvious." Miyeon laughed.

"Jealous of what? Or should we say, who?" Sullyoon curiously asked.

"S-stop! I said it's nothing, okay! There's no chance in hell that I am jealous because of him." Sana made a "tch" sound on her mouth. "I don't even like him at all." She rolled her eyes as she whispered it, barely to be heard by her friends who returned focusing on their own. As she was left alone with her trouble, her eyes went staring at the window, she sighed deeply as she felt a strange regret inside her after saying those words while remembering what she saw back in the library.

As if she meant it.

Hours later, Sana bids goodbye to Miyeon and Sullyoon before she walked at the hallway all by herself. She stopped on her steps when she felt this unsettling feeling near her shoulder.

Her head goes turning around, searching for something but was unsuccessfully. Sana sighed and shook her head. "YN isn't coming. That guy/girl is a student council president, Sana. He/she's probably busy." she muttered to herself.

Sana continued to move, with a blank face and a moderate speed. As the afternoon light about to engulf her, she felt her sling bag slowly float, the weight she's carrying quickly became lighter.

Her breath got taken away shortly in surprise until she realized what caught her from that action.

It was you, smiling while standing beside her as you taking off her bag gently from her shoulder.

"May I?"

Sana didn't respond, she just let her arm spread a bit to let the strap fall, easily allowing it to fall from your posession.

"You do look like having a bad day." you peeked at her expression. Sana slightly got shy, and turns her face away as she pouted while rolling her eyes arrogantly.

"You just noticed? I'm always like this whenever you're around me."

"You sure there's nothing more than that? I know it's pretty much of a 'me' problem but... can you be more specific?"

"Oh come on, wasn't that enough for you? Stop triggering me, please. I said what I said, you are an eyesore that's why." Sana crosses her arm. She started to walk down the stairs as you slowly followed her with a faint smile on your lips.

"Okay, if that's what you say. I'll just be here behind you. Too bad, I wanted to lead the way because I want take us somewhere unwinding first." You sighed and tightened your lips. Sana heard it, sensing a weird sensation through her. She must be saying no or even meaner than that, but how come she became more curious?

Sana heaved out a large breath of air before pausing on her walk with a stomp. She turned around to face you as she gestures you to come forward. "It's only because I needed it."

And you grinned thankfully.

The two of you went to a cliff from a road outside of Seoul. Just in time, Sana was about to whine about how dangerous this place you chose until she was distracted of the magnificent sunset in display to the skyview.

Each of you took a picture, with her being first. You clicked the button, instead the shot accidentally captures Sana turning her attention back at you. As she approaches you, you dragged down your phone in embarassment and nervousness that she might found out and suspect that you're secretly spying on her.

"What happened to you?" Sana finds your tensed manner.

"N-nothing. I just... remembered something."

"Weirdo." She teases you. "So what's gotten into you choosing this place. Are you gonna push me there down the cliff to show me your true colors?"

You looked at her exhaustedly, no much in an energy to enlighten or defend yourself. "Say or think of anything suspicious about me, Sana but I wasn't even harming you even in my imaginations anymore." You didn't bother to look at her because all you'll see rather is an irritated, sassy woman whom you had a price to pay for.

"This is my favorite place to chill." You simply answered, leaning at the front of the car and posing your limbs as you supported yourself with your arms pressed on the car. Sana looked at your side-figure.

"I started finding this when me and my mom used to go here when I was young. She was the first one to notice how beautiful the sunset is to watch from here, and I did agree on her... and it turns out to become one of my favorite scenery." Sana just listened to your story as you continue to witness the sun hides from the clouds.

"My mother told me to stay with her longer here because for a moment, she found peace and serenity. She felt like there's nothing to worry about." You paused as you smiled proudly. "She felt like she wasn't going to be alone in this battle she's facing, because I was there by her side. Even though I... wasn't that too much vocal or expressive at what I've gone through in our family, but... my heart knows where I need to stay. Where I can surely find a better outcome for my life someday."

"That's why when the right thing happened one day, I started to listen and follow to my heart first. I kicked out all those delinquent students away from my company and I only remained my wonderful mom and dad... step-dad..." You corrected yourself, Sana shrank her eyes at that intentional pause. "Because it felt like it's the right thing to do, and it did. It helped me to get back up to my feet and reshape myself to become a proper man that my mom always wanted to see in me.

Sana, mind I if ask... am I progressing?"

Sana stares at you as you glanced at her with your glistening eyes full of hope. "I'm not gonna lie this time, but you sure are doing quite an effect on me..." Her voice is slowly decreasing through the words.

"But that won't still change anything about what you did to me before. People can say past is past easily but me? If it wasn't for that, which I don't know... should I say thank you atleast anyway... for motivating me to change my appearance? Lose a massive amount of weight, beautify myself more, get rid of those eyeglasses and braces just so that I can be accepted and liked by many for my features like what you said?" Sana said with a bit of a hatred rising through her again. You remain speechless as you understand why it's driving her mad.

"I achieved a better life too but unlike you, what I did I get? You put me into a trauma that I'm still bringing to myself till this day. Fear and anxious that...  makes me still remember it all."

"I like the passion, YN... but I will never going to forgive you for what you did to me. I will always hate you for that." Sana said it with all honesty. "And that's enough of a reason for me to have no interests on having our deal contract settled."

Heartbroken, you chose to ignore and hide as you have nothing more to do than to accepts her decision. After all, you were the one who already said that you can't force her to make amends with you.

"Understood."

The next week, Sana was about to go downstairs when she found a student sipping lollipop at the corner. The guy looks completely wasted, obviously breaking the proper uniform rules. She decided to ignore him as she continue to go through but insteas, the guy catcalled her before moving on its own, approaching Sana.

"Hi there, hot stuff." The guy said before taking off her lollipop with a slurp. "Where you going at?"

"A-at my class." Sana nervously said.

"Hmmm... okay. Nice and proper, I like it. Ladies like you are easy to be tamed, isn't it?" He smirked menacingly.

Sana stepped back and grabbed her sling bag. "E-excuse me? How dare you-"

"Ohhh, daring. Such a duality we got here huh, I wouldn't mind if you can do switch roles with me, however we can only apply that in the bed."

"Shut up, pervert!"

"Cmon, lady. It's that simply, feel free to take a shot on me, and you can be there to your classroom without a problem."

"And if I don't?!"

"Challenging and fightful, I like that."

"Then you're going to love me."

Sana and the delinquent both became surprised as you made your unexpected emergence from the stairs, hurrying down ss you pushed away the guy and had him bumping his back on the barred metal gate.

"This one's pestering you?" Sana only nodded.

"Ugh shit! Ah, look. It's the bastard of this goddamn student council!" The delinquent said while touching his upper back in pain.

"Choose your words more carefully. I can report you and have you be placed in a sanction that you'll regret."

"Go on, make me. As if I give a shit. This entire university is a complete bullshit anyway. The only reason it got me staying here everyday, is if wasn't for some sexy chicks like here roaming around-" The deliquent didn't had to speak disrespectfully and point at Sana longer as he ate a crunchy right punch from you straight to his face.

"You crazy bitch!"

The guy fights back at you, returning the punch you gave. It agitated you and led yourselves into a brawl that had the groans and growls echoing to the upper floor, catching student's attention. Sana panicked and tasked them to call a guard to seperate the two.

The guy got the advantage during the fight, he continues to give you a barrage of kicks to the waist before he pulled Sana closer to her and inappropriately traced her sides while he chuckles dangerously.

Sana felt disgusted and quickly slaps the guy. "What do you think you're doing, huh? Fucking slut!" He gave Sana a fast backhand slap that had her twirling and crashing next to the metal handles of the stairs.)+•~

You saw what he did, with anger fuming in you, you pulled his leg and sent him down on the ground before you tackled him andgave him multiple punches until the guards and the officials broke up the fight.

"THE TWO OF YOU, PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. NOW!"

As a result of the fight and from the decision made by the higher ups, the guy was kicked out of the campus for multiple delinquent offenses while you got suspended for your role as the president for a couple of months when they learned that you just did that for self-defense.

Sana was sitting on the bed with the nurse preparing the first aid until you showed up and requested the nurse instead to leave it all on your hands. She hesitated for a minute that you are also bruised but you bargained until she gave up and listened to you as a respect for being a student leader.

Sana in her surprise, watched you sit down and grab the first aid beside you. "W-what are you doing?"

"Treating you."

"Don't make me a baby, YN. The nurse can do it herself."

You just stared at her and Sana felt a bit intimidated. She decided to shut up and forcefully let you do your thing. "Good. Now come closer and lemme see your cheek."

She leaned forward and directed her aching cheek on you. "That idiot." You cursed as you search around the reddening spot. You weren't aware that it was mixed by Sana's blush now to have you staring very closer at her.

You started applying the ice pack around the hurting spot as Sana hissed before she swallowed in her throat and spoke. "T-thank you... for earlier."

"No problem. That's unusual, atleast I got a positive comment from you.

"I- I wasn't expecting you to come to rescue me, okay. And I didn't know how much I needed it."

The awkwardness between each other formed as none dared to speak afterwards when both got lost in their words. However, you started a topic that might break the silence and for Sana to understand more.

"I wasn't always like this."

"I know, you said it. It's just that there's something happened that I don't know-"

"It's my dad." You answered it. Sana looked at you. "I know you've been itching to ask me what exactly happened."

"I just don't want to because I felt like it's not my intention to know more and all I had to do is to understand you because it seemed too personal that I might sound forceful. But I do really wanted to know why." Sana replied. "So... step-dad?"

"No. My biological dad." You revealed. "My original father was abusive to my mom. I learned that he became like that when he started to fell addiction to gambling and other crazy stuffs that risks your money badly. He releases his frustration to my mom until she couldn't take it no more when she heard it loud and clear from my father that he despises her for me not turning out to be the one he's expecting. He always wanted a son/daughter but... nope. That's just all a part of his excuses that made my mom snapped and file a divorce  and report to my dad, and guess what. Her attorney became so interested in my mom and here he is, my mom and my dad broke up and him, who is now my step-dad, saved mom and I." You said as you applied care on her bruises.

Sana looked at you pitifully and for the first time, she frowned for you. "W-why are still helping me or... treating me good, even though I don't return it back at you?"

"Because... I got influenced. At first, I look up to my dad. I thought at first that he was tough, strong... I started becoming like him when him and my mom always gets to have a proble but then I realized that he was a true coward for proving all that by beating up my mom. And she was the one who is actually tough, because despite of all the suffering she took from my dad, she didn't hurt him back physically but that doesn't she has no plans to fight. Because if she does, then I wouldn't be in a better state if it wasn't for her.

So I changed. I took mom as my role model. I remained calm as much as I can. I did it all to reshape myself from the ghost of the past. Now here I am, rather choosing to prove myself and mean it all on my words on you. I don't want to fight anymore to cause trauma, Instead, I'll do in a need to protect the people who are close to me."

Sana tied all the strings together, and it did finally all comes to a clear point that it wasn't really your fault that you turned out to be that reckless bully that she had to go through a hard time before. She would be lying if she won't admit that she is a supporter of a belief that people can change, and it comes through this moment that she decided that she can use that phrase for good.

"There, all done." You said as you tucked all the hair to her ear and patted the bandage firmly on her face. Sana was just staring back at your tender and admirable demeanor. "Does it still h-"

"I forgive you."

"..."

You fell silent. That was very out of nowhere, but suddenly it got so uplifted to hear that successfully.

"Y-you do?"

"And we still have a week remaining ahead of us. We can use it to finally be able get along together."

You smiled widely as you saw how Sana's bright and cute grin shines right in your eyes. She looked so beautiful, and you even felt more guilty and poor for her on vanishing this irresistable kine of joy within her before.

"Yeah we can. T-thank you a lot, Sana."

Sana patted your hand to calm your happiness down. She smiled as she stared down at your hands stacked together. She took a grip on it and even felt the heat crawling through her skin, sending to her overflowing emotions in her heart.

It actually does look... fitting in her opinion. And she even agreed more to herself when she looked back up to see the owner of the hand she would actually love to hold more in many occasions.

That moment, Sana confirmed to herself that she has now began to discover a liking on you, who is also discreetly sharing the same serenade as her too.

Days after you and Sana tried to start this brand new closeness both of you has started for each other, its aftermath had left you ran out to became so overwhelmed about it, now that have reminded you of something that requires to be done more important before the expiration was reached.

You wanted to be happy because you have now made peace with Sana, but today wasn't the right time for you to celebrate fully.

Too much occupied on spending time for each other, that it almost made both forgot that you had to deal with a serious matter when the next day comes.

Your mood disrupted as you got conscious of the date today, not even Sana's bubbly personality can distract you from it or anything. You couldn't even join her as you remained watching her instead for some reason.

"You seem like you're in deep thoughts again, YN." Sana poked you with the tip of the ice cream she bought. "Are you okay?"

You didn't answer right away as it took time for you to snap back into your senses and found yourself being confronted by Sana.

"Y-yeah."

A lie. Sana detected that disturbing twitch of a forced smile on your lips.

"Really, what's going on? I know i've seen this last time on you getting blacked out of nowhere but this one feels different."

"How can you say?" You asked in a dead tone.

She shrugged and opened her ice cream first before she continued speaking. "That something's definitely bothering you. You're so stiff and uneasy. Does it makes you scared?"

"M-maybe it is..."

"Care to share what it is then?"

You were about to respond but Sana introduces you to her cold palm blocking your sight.

"But first, eat your ice cream. It's gonna melt, plus... it's my favorite flavor, okay? I don't want it getting wasted." She pouted adorably.

You chuckled and sighed as you opened your ice cream. "Delicious."

"Who? Me or the ice cream?"

"W-what?" You looked so baffled at her suspicious remark.

She laughed loudly at your embarassed expression. "I'm sorry- it's just... you keep on staring at me while you're licking it and commenting it for me. I thought you're teasing me so... I tried to get back on you."

"S-stupid, you and your pervy thoughts..." You rolled your eyes and blushed intensely at her own silliness. "And what if I say you?" you smirked a little and glared at her.

"Then I don't mind having you grab a taste as much as you like~" Her eyes didn't even had to glare back at you to look flirty and seductive, instead aura changed on its own as Sana ensures that the one who started this kind of fun won't end up getting defeated in the end.

You gulped and looked away from her enticing look as she wheezes. "Sorry, what's gotten over me. Anyways, let's go backto where we left. Oh yeah, what's making you scared?"

You had to compose yourself before replying to her. "Of us. Certainly... for you."

"Why?"

"I can't tell if this luck that I have of making myself had to witness this whole you being... just the way you are is only temporary for me to see, because I fear that... I might lose this... real you, again." You said.

"I appreciate the consideration YN but, risks are inevitable okay? It's fine to take it as long as it won't step or abuse my whole being again." Sana said. "I know you're scared but... face your fears. This is why you seek for another opportunity, right? To make things right."

"But would it be wrong for me if..."

"If...?" Sana waited for your next words to follow up.

Your heartbeat quickened, nerves trembling, emotions rising, as there's no going back once you have revealed this secret you have been keeping from her in weeks. "Would it be wrong for me if I don't just want you as a friend anymore? That I also began to admire you more than that?"

Sana's smile dropped. Her gaze went more focused on you as she couldn't believe what she's hearing. "Y-you like me?"

"I know it's ridiculous of me to say that to you, because I feel like I don't have the right to feel this way because I made you like this... forcefully with my wrongdoings. But, I don't know why my heart is being like this." You said to her.

"Maybe it's due to what I've said to you last time that I started to follow what my heart wants, and it pains because... I feel like this is what I may be missing after all these years when I rather ending up hurting you against my will. And now it makes me worry if I continue this feeling i'm having now that we have buried your hatred, I might lose this... bright side that depicts the real you, Sana. That I mercilessly thrown away when we first met.

I don't want to let it go but... I couldn't  get rid of this feeling in me, even after you told me you have declined our contract, I'm heartbroken but I still keep on loving you." You started tearing up. For the first time, Sana has fully visualized this fragile self of yours and it truly does hurt her deep inside.

"But I don't want you to pity me. I still respect your decision, but... for the last time... a last hope in me, I just want to ask... do you... still want to reconsider it?"

You looked at her with your poor eyes. Sana got her breath taken away by your weakened state. Her heart crumples in pain seeing you like this because you are heavily concerned of something that you don't even had to.

Because she likes you too, and you don't even know yet.

If your heart chooses her, her heart needed you more.

"I'm sorry..." is what came out as a whisper to Sana's shaking tone. Your heart shattered and there's your last hope disappeared like a popped bubble in the air. She was about to speak but you interrupted her.

"I see. I get it, no matter how much a person forgives you for your sin, there's always be time that would grant you the punishment for wasting that moment that you should've been good rather. A karma, in short. And this one, is what I have to bring and suffer for the rest of my life."  You said to her with a bitter smile. Sana was in awe at your guilty pronounce.

"I enjoyed our time but I think I have to go now, Sana. I'm sorry." You excused yourself to Sana as you emptied your ice cream and left her speechless on your spot with her. Her frozen consciousness has what costs her to respond late to unable to catch you as you walked away from her sight.

Sana was left in distraught, as the words she was about to say and the entirety of your confession sinked down to her.

March 31. The day of the proclaimation has come. The month is ending and that means the contract has reached its breaking point. You and Sana met again in the court along with your parents in each of your sides.

Both parties are worried and confused on why you and Sana seemed so dull and devastated that neither couldn't look at each other's eyes anymore. This is what you feared, and the regret is eating you up again so bad.

"Mr/Ms. LN, are you in favor of the contract to be published and hereby signed by you?"

"I do, your honor." You said. You wanted to give it up but you chose to fight for what you have desired more. You wanted to be with Sana longer, and even if it won't grant you the same opportunity, it doesn't matter. Atleast you have become honest to your heart that you would've love to have her as yours.

Sana's lips trembled as she tried to fight the tears about to pour down on her face but was unsuccessful that the judge had to halt the question. It breaks your heart more to see her in an emotional breakdown in front of you.

"Miss Minatozaki, are you okay?"

"I... I'm not..." She sniffed her nose and wiped her tears before proceeding. " I'm not in favor of the contract, your honor."

Your family and Sana's both were in shock and saddened. You weren't surprised, but you are surely devastated that she is really this a hundred percent certain of her decision.

"Are you sure with your answer, Miss Minatozaki? You look hesitant. Perhaps you can provide a clear explaination why you still responded the opposite?"

"I'm really not in favor of the contract, your honor." Sana shook her head. She wiped her tears again before she stepped forward and came closer to you.

"Because I don't want to have it done arranged."

Your eyes widened. The collective gasps of the both sides can be heard from the court.

"I'm rather hesitant because I want to be with you more, YN... but not through this. I want us to build the story of our relationship through our own. I want it that way, not this where others had to dictate and rush us how things should go for us." She apologetically looks back at yours and her family, and gladly they nodded understandably at her point.

She immediately pulls you into a hug so tight that you wouldn't even care also if you got suffocated into her endearing gesture of what finding your home should feel like. "I'm glad that you didn't let go, YN... because I love you too."

She sobbed into your shoulder and you gave up with your emotions as flood of tears fell down on your face, but this time it was all full of joy and relief. You reciprocated her action as you wrapped her body into your own embrace and cuddled her head on your side.

"Thank you... thank you for giving me a chance, Sana. I'll do everything I can not to ruin this. I love you.

She leans away fron your shoulder and holds your shoulders as she traces your face super close between each other. "I'm so proud of you, YN. You deserve it."

"And yes, I would be glad to be your girlfriend... and your future wife soon." She winked before she pulls your head next for a wholesome romantic kiss.

Your families and even the judge clapped and congratulated in support for your newfound stronger relationship with Sana since this is a sight to behold seeing two couples aren't destined to be torn apart from each other... but rather to stay together forever despite all the harsh and crucial situations they had gone through.

Love, in cooperation with time; always finds a way to connect two people's hearts no matter how long it might take, and this... is the way their story had to go.

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! So, in G1, there is an episode where four Autobots ended up briefly turning into humans, called Only Humans. That episode was fun, but sadly, there were too much actions and not enough bots experiencing common phenomenons of a human body, which would have been SO fun! So may I request a similar scenario with TFP Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bee, and Bulkhead? But this time the times where they stayed humans were longer than that G1 episode, and during the time these guys got to experience all kinds of human body experiences like hiccups, goosebumps, throwing up, falling inside of their sleep, strung by mosquitoes, and maybe even a cold, so on and so on. And tbh I just want to know who do you think would be the ones to freak out ant goosebumps (think that bugs are crawling under them) and who would be the one to think that a 39 Celsius fever + a nasty throw up is probably normal for human body and no cause for concern? And to make this funnier I ask for a random unlucky Autobot to actually got to suffer from motion sickness (ironic, since they used to be cars themselves, and now they can’t even ride anymore without feeling like dying), and another to be truck by a tough cold/flu and had to suffer through unfamiliar symptoms like coughing, sneezing, chills, and stomach aches, and another to find out they have nasty allergies of a random kind and effect (these can all be more than one if you are feeling evil)

but of course the three kids are there to help them through this tough time— not without occasionally making fun of them a bit tho.

you can do this either in a story telling form, where you write out a whole entire story chapter, or the bullet point list regarding how different the reactions of everyone would be.

YEEEE! This request was fun to do! The bots are going to get the 'whole' human experience.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy and the Kids helping turned humans Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead

SFW, Platonic, mentions of puke, Human reader

TFP

Relic accident. Enough said.

The relic, as it turned out, had the capability to turn anything of Cybertronain origin into the organic version of it depending on the planet it was on.

That was how the charges found their guardians on the floor looking dazed and confused.

Thank goodness they had clothes on.

After further inspection from Wheeljack, they all got the news.

The good news this was all temporary, they would turn back when the effects wore off.

The bad news was that this was going to last for entire week.

Which shouldn’t have been a problem… if some of them didn’t get sick.

Oh joy…

Ratchet

The Cold.

Ratchet was fine for the first day, though he was constantly complaining about the work that still needed to be done.

It was the next day that the symptoms came up.

Buddy and Raf are the only ones who manage to convince him to lay down and rest.

“Please Ratchet, your sick and need rest.”--Buddy

Ratchet trying to pass Buddy but Raf steps in front of him.

“Do it Raf!”--Buddy

“Do—cough—what?”--Ratchet

Puppy Dog Eyes activated.

“Please?”--Raf

“… fine.”--Ratchet

Buddy high-hives Raf before helping him back to his bed.

His immune system was new to its surroundings, easier for illness to sit in.

Worse that he was older than the other as well.

He was much more vulnerable to catch simple things.

Most of the bots and recently turned humans are worried about Ratchet’s health when he started sleeping more. But June and the others reassure them that Ratchet’s going to be fine.

Ratchet wants to work, but the kids and Buddy don’t let him.

Jack and Buddy oversee Ratchet’s temperature and basic medical supplies.

Buddy does their best to explain to him what is happening to his body, for reassurance.

Miko plays him classical music for once.

Blame it on the pitiful sick look on his face.

He expected some loud rock music but found it surprising when Miko began playing the keyboard softly.

Its an almost foolproof way to get him to sleep fast.

Raf sat by him telling him stories and helping him eat his food.

This wasn’t his best experience, but he certainly has much more respect on human biology and for the kids now.

Ratchet now has a mini human well-care kit in his habsuite.

Optimus Prime

The Hiccups.

Optimus was just trying some of the different waters the kids had been recommending.

“And what is this one?”--Optimus

Optimus already starting to drink.

“Sparkling water.”--Buddy

Optimus stops and looks at the water horrified.

“Why are you looking at it—OH! Wait Optimus its not ‘sparkling’s’ water is a type of water with minerals!”--Buddy

Optimus puts the water down but swallows the water in his mouth.

“Human’s drink minerals? As in the deposits?”--Optimus

“… I’m not explaining this one. Raf! Your turn!”--Buddy

Then they heard the sound.

Optimus was surprised to hear it.

Then he made it again.

He looks a bit disturbed.

He wasn’t voluntarily making the noise it was just coming out of him just like that.

Jack and Miko try to explain what hiccups are.

He gets a bit more disturbed yet intrigued.

This wouldn’t be so bad… if that noise would stop trying to interrupt him from talking and making his chest go bump!

Raf suggests ways to get rid of them.

They all go through the list until they reach the last one.

Scaring him.

They knew it was going to be a tough one, Prime wasn’t scared easily.

But Buddy had an idea.

A very dumb idea.

Optimus was talking to Jack when he noticed Buddy leaning on the railing.

He was a bit on edge seeing them so casual near the ledge.

They sat on top of it.

Then began tittering backwards until half of their body went to the other side.

Optimus is running to Buddy’s side trying to stop them from falling backwards.

Buddy just hung from their ankles looking up at him with a smug smile.

No more hiccups.

Problem solved.

He does try and scold Buddy for the recklessness… but he is also glad the hiccups are gone.

When Optimus turns back to normal, he insists to Agent Fowler to have better rails in the base.

Arcee

The Mosquito bites.

Oh, Jack had warned her about these little guys.

And now she knew why the kids were complaining about.

She wanted to eradicate every single one.

Arcee trying to squash some of the mosquitos with her hands.

“Why!”-Arcee

SMACK!

“Won’t!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“These!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Things!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Die!”--Arcee

SMACK!

SMACK!

Buddy and Jack already dosed with repellent.

“Felt that.”--Buddy

“Yep.”--Jack

The two humans fist bump while watching Arcee fail to smack another mosquito.

With some heavy rain, some had managed to get into the base. There weren’t many, maybe four, but they were enough to leave Arcee’s arms and legs littered with little bites.

The kids did get bitten too, but not as much as she did.

Arcee did try to use the repellent, it didn’t do anything for her.

Buddy and Miko help put anti itching cream on her, but she wants to scratch them all so bad.

When she thought they weren’t looking she would begin to scratch furiously.

Arcee didn’t know that her skin would show that she had scratched. She freaked out a bit when she scratched a bit too hard on one and it started bleeding.

Raf and Jack clean and disinfect the scratch which welcomes her to the pain of antibacterial spray.

She swears that it was the most painful thing she had to endure yet.

Raf decided to decorate the little scratches with band aids so she would scratch them.

When Arcee turns back to her normal self, she is relieved.

She has much more respect for the things humans have to do daily.

Will never tell Jack to suck it up when he has a mosquito bite again.

Bumblebee

The Motion sickness.

Oh, the Irony.

Bumblebee was a fast muscle car before!

He shouldn’t get sick when going over 15 miles per hour!

Now he was getting queasy in riding with Smokescreen and Buddy.

He feels awful.

Sweaty

Clammy hands

And something feels like something is trying to crawl out of his throat.

Bumblebee looking a bit pale as Smokescreen makes another sharp turn.

Buddy looks at Bee.

“Hey Smokes, you mind rolling the windows down a bit?”--Buddy

“Why?”--Smokescreen

Bumblebee groaning.

“Unless you want to see what the inside of a humans stomach holds, I suggest you open up the windows.”--Buddy

Windows immediately roll down.

Bee sighs with a bit of relief as the wind rolls past his face calming his stomach.

At first the two thought it was Smokescreen crazy driving that was making him sick.

But that wasn’t the case.

Buddy Bee and Raf were inside Ultra Magnus and he got queasy there too.

Magnus was one of the safest and slowest drivers on the team.

It was just him.

Bumblebee refused to leave the base after they came back.

He’d rather hang out with the kids on the couch and play games with them than go outside in another vehicle.

When Bumblebee returns to normal, he is so thankful the queasiness didn’t follow him.

He is now much more attentive to the kids when he is driving now.

His subspaces now have barf bags, just in case.

Bulkhead

Throwing Up.

All Bulkhead wanted to do was have the full human experience with Miko.

He went with her to a monster truck rally that Buddy had managed to get tickets to.

“Wow! I can’t believe you got us ticket to the rally!”--Miko

“Me neither!”--Bulkhead

“No problem, guys, just enjoy yourselves.”

“I mean I tried booking these babies in advance, but everything was booked or too expensive. How did you get the tickets?”--Miko

Buddy simply starts drinking their soda.

“Buddy?”--Bulkhead

“What you don’t know, don’t hurt.”--Buddy

“What?”--Bulkhead

“What?”--Buddy

The trio bought all sorts of junk food and sodas.

He found himself enjoying the time at the rally.

Everything was good.

Until he got back to base.

He suddenly became pale and sweaty.

The next thing Bulkhead knew, he was staring at a trash can with a bunch of mushy stuff with Buddy and Miko on either side of him.

Buddy had some of the mushy stuff on their arms, while Miko was rubbing his back gently.

The mushy stuff did stink a lot.

He felt something come out of his mouth and spew it into the bin, once again getting it on Buddy’s arms.

Bulkhead tried to apologize but it was hard to catch his breath.

Turns out a whole lot of junk food and soda was not good for you after all.

No matter how good it tasted before.

He doesn’t want to touch food while he is like this.

The kids try introducing him to lighter foods so he can at least eat something while his stomach recovers.

He likes the different kinds of broth they bring in.

When Bulkhead returns to normal, he asks Miko to stash barf bags in his interior.

He wants to have them just in case the kids need them.

Has so much more respect for them.

Will slap someone in the head if they mention to the kids to get it over with while their stomach is not feeling good.