#watched it all when i was a kid and its still with me

[it-was-summer]

Buy Me Presents, Baby

A/N: Minors; DNI. I DONT CAREEE I WANT HIM!! Anyways, this may or may not be based on true events in my life. If you're reading this also know that I wrote this Christmas Eve and it is now 5am on Christmas Day, the powerhouse of lust. Hope you guys like this because I DID NOT proofread this AT ALL!! I mention the pill (oral contraception), so sorry if this is an issue, I'm just a girl. I KNOW there is a typo in here... i know it. Merry Christmas!! My gift is porn!!- Love you, Em

edit- the typo was fully in the title… go to bed at a reasonable time kids.

Link to the Ao3: Buy Me Presents, Baby Link to the: Yee olde masterlist Tags: Woof uhh okay! newly established relationship, Christmas sex, Spanking, Creampie, PnV sex, Reader gets called girl.. I apologize, Oral contraceptives are mentioned at the end, lingerie, that one bow lingerie... yall know which on I'm talking about?, That ONE!! WITH THE BOW YES!!, I had to use the word pussy.. IM SORRT IM NOT HAPPY ABOUT It, dirty talk, cock this cock that, not proofread, merry christmas.

Genre: Porn, no plot. Some fluff? Pairing: Established relationship!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Plot: You and Spencer exchange gifts for Christmas, and one of your gifts happens to be a little physical.

Word Count: 3,669

Spencer doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. 

Though the longer he thinks about it, he should have seen the signs of your recent… restlessness. Being in the BAU came with its challenges, and one of these challenges was— of course— being away from home. Usually, the two of you would find a special time that worked for both of you to meet up and spend some well-deserved time together. 

Lately, it has felt like the world was against you, though. Every time you had free time, he’d plan a date night with you, only for him to be called away on a case. The one time you planned a date, you came down with a cold. The cycle kept repeating in a million different annoying ways. 

The cherry on top? It was almost Christmas. It's nearly Christmas, and neither of you has seen each other for a good three weeks— it’s miserable. 

So imagine his excitement when his phone doesn’t ring early Saturday morning. When he steps out of his shower, he checks it again— nothing. He’s beaming when he calls you, your sleepy voice answering him before he says, “Dinner tonight?” 

There’s a pause, followed by some rustling, “You’re free?” 

“Mhm,” He hums with a grin, grabbing his glasses from the case and placing them gracefully on his face. 

He can hear the excitement in your voice. " You want to exchange presents?” He remembers the playful tone in your voice when you said it, but at the time, he thought nothing of it. He chuckles softly before agreeing, saying a sweet goodbye, and hanging up the phone. 

Dinner begins and ends at your place, decorated in lights and festive trinkets, and presents wrapped neatly under the fake tree in the corner of your living room. The gift exchange went smoothly; you got Spencer some reading essentials, followed by a special edition of one of his favorite books. Spencer, in turn, had bought you a pair of earrings you pointed out back in November and a framed copy of your favorite painting.

It was getting late now, with a warm cup of tea in his hands, you turned and whispered in a playful voice, “I still have one more gift for you.” 

His eyebrows raised at that, bending his head to look at you as you sat with your back pressed against his chest, “More? After the special edition Tolstoy?” 

“More. I was saving it for the twenty-fifth, but…” You trail off, your eyes leaving his as you glance toward your bedroom. “I could go get it ready now?” 

Spencer smiles, thinking about it momentarily before he decides that he might not be home for Christmas. He mutters a soft “Yeah, okay.” 

You stand up quickly, an excited look in your eyes when you tell him, “Okay, stay here!” And then you’re gone. 

Spencer’s watching your bedroom door close with a faint smile. He stretches as he waits, his tea finished, when he hears you call out for him, “You can come in now!” 

He stepped into your room with nothing but good intentions, that is, until he saw you lying on your bed in lingerie. Maroon satin material lays smooth against your skin, and the shape of a tantalizing bow teases him at the center of your chest and your underwear— barely there. 

He clears his throat in a vain attempt to appear calm and collected, though he’s sure you can see his blushing cheeks and growing arousal. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words die in the back of his throat when you sit up on your elbows, pushing your breast out toward him a little more with an innocent tilt of your head. “You don’t like it?” 

His voice cracks when he says, “No! I mean— that is to say, I do like it! I mean, I’m sure you can see how much I–” He nervously adjusts his sweater, shaky hands pulling at the collar. 

You let out a soft hum, relaxing a little. " Are you going to stand by the door the whole time, or?” You tease him with a low laugh. 

He quickly walks closer, shaking his head as he gets closer to the edge of the bed. The bed dips as he climbs onto the edge of the bed. He watches as you roll on your side to adjust for him, waiting until he is lying beside you before you whisper, “If you don’t want to, it’s okay–” 

“I do! I do. It’s just we’ve only–” He motions between the two of you slowly, replacing the word. “A few times, and I wasn’t expecting,” His eyes trail down to your chest, his fingers twitching– itching to feel the material against his palm.  

When he looks back into your eyes, you smile at him with a little sigh, “I know. I just saw it, and I thought of you.” 

Spencer feels like his entire body is on fire when you say that. His pants become increasingly uncomfortable as he croaks softly, “That made you think of me?” 

You hum a sweet-sounding “Mhm,” you lick your lips, “Cognitive association, right?” 

Spencer thinks you’ll break him with the way you’re talking to him; your voice is low and quiet, clearly amused. He holds back a sound when he feels your hand take his and guide it to your barely clothed hip. For some reason, he wants to spew some facts about cognitive association, but in a rare moment, his mind goes blank. 

His mind slows, and the only thing he can process is the feeling of satin material against your body. He drags his hand along your side, higher and higher, until his fingers trace the bra’s underwire. His eyes flicker over to yours as he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips. 

Kissing Spencer always starts soft, tender, and languid. It then slowly devolves into something passionate, heated, rough– something you adore. And you’re starting to feel the shift in this kiss, his tongue slightly grazing your bottom lip– a silent plea you happily fulfill, parting your lips to let his tongue tentatively enter the kiss. 

You’re smiling into the kiss, shifting with him so you’re under him before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him deeper into the kiss. Spencer lets out a tiny sound of surprise against your lips at the rough movement, and he pulls away slightly, his lips barely touching yours when he says, “So aggressive,” His tone teasing as he captures your lips in another giddy kiss. 

With your eyes closed and mouth occupied, your hands get to work. Blindly, you pull the bottom of his sweater, your lips only leaving his to help him pull the piece of clothing off his body. He’s eager to get his lips back on yours, his tongue resuming its work against yours, a kiss that makes your head spin and thoughts go hazy with how intense it feels. 

You move your legs up and around his hips, pushing his hips down to yours with ease. Spencer whines into the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours until he pulls away to kiss your jawline. His hips grind down onto yours, your breath hitching at the feeling. 

Feeling his hardness through his pants makes you realize just how badly you need him, and it seems it does the same for him. His lips latch onto the lower side of your neck, sucking and licking softly at the sensitive area as his hips grind against yours harder. 

The feeling makes your core squeeze around nothing; the new desire to get something, anything, inside you plants a seed in your lower abdomen. You feel shamefully needy as Spencer continues leaving light red and purple marks on the sensitive skin of your neck, his breathing heavy as he decorates you with marks. 

You’re surprised to see that he’s actually moving lower, his markings getting closer to your collarbone when he pulls away, looking up at you with those lust-filled honey eyes, “May I?” The tips of his fingers tug lightly at the satin red bow covering your breasts. 

Your legs leave his hips as he pulls the bow apart with a simple flick of his wrist. His eyes stay trained on your breast as he takes one into his hand and gently rubs at your nipple, eliciting a soft, quiet moan from you, “So pretty,” Then he dips his head lower to bring your left nipple into his mouth, licking at the sensitive bud with precision. 

A sound— embarrassingly loud— escapes your lips at the feeling, your body squirming against his. You’re sure you can feel him smiling against your breast, his right hand moving to your right nipple, pinching it lightly. 

Your fingers latch onto his hair, gently running them through his hair and occasionally pulling when his tongue does something particularly amazing against the bud of your nipple. You can feel electric arousal coursing through you, soft moans and sighs leaving you with every touch. 

However, he’s pulling his lips away from your breast soon after, his cheeks red as he mutters a low, “Need to make sure you cum,” And you find yourself nodding in agreement as his hands leave your breast, pulling the lingerie’s satin thong to the side as he swipes two fingers along your entrance. 

You let out a little sigh, feeling incredibly needy as his fingers brush against your clit teasingly. “Did dressing up like this make you this wet, or did I?” He asks, his fingers curiously leading back down to your entrance. 

Shifting under him, you let out a breathless chuckle, “A bit of both,” 

He grins at that, his head now to the side of yours, his thumb pressing against your clit slowly as he slides a finger inside you. You tense for a second with pleasure before relaxing as the feelings, his finger gently curling inside of you as his thumb presses down harder on your swollen bundle of nerves. “You’ve been fantasizing about this for weeks, haven’t you?” 

His voice against your ear isn’t something you expect, but you aren’t surprised for long as he slides a second finger into you— your thoughts turning to mush, “Yes,” You whisper, your back arching slightly at his fingers move faster inside you, curling and pleasing you at a medium pace. 

Spencer lets out a low hum, his eyes watching you as you get lost in pleasure, his thumb pressing against your clit a little harder as he finds that sweet little spot inside of you. He can feel the way your walls tighten around his fingers, and he’s envious of his own hand, wishing it was his cock instead. 

Your moans only add to personal envy, his fingers moving and caressing your G-spot with greater precision. He tries not to groan, watching you arch your back off the bed. A cry followed by a string of heightened gasps from you has him wholly enraptured. 

When his fingers start to get rough inside you, you’re already seeing stars, your left hand reaching over to grab onto Spencer’s bicep at the feelings, fingers gently digging into his skin as your body shakes. “Love watching you get close,” Spencer groans softly against your ear. 

His lips slowly resume their markings on your neck, and the added stimulation sends you falling over the edge with a loud cry of pleasure. Your body shakes against him, and your high-pitched moans, accompanied by heavy panting, have pride swelling in his chest as his fingers help you ride out your orgasm. 

His fingers only stop when your body goes slack, his lips leaving your neck to gently kiss at your lips— a gesture you return lazily. The feeling of his fingers leaving you has you feeling empty, but you’re quickly distracted as Spencer drags his soaked fingers to his lips. Your eyes widen for a second as you watch your boyfriend lick off every bit of you on them, “Let me get a taste,” Your voice is soft as Spencer leans in, kissing you fast and rough. Your tongue drags along his to get a second-hand taste of yourself in his mouth. 

You’re quick to pull away, your hands hooking into the belt loop of his pants, gently yanking at the loop. Spencer laughs at the feeling, and he looks into your eyes with a shameful look— lustful and pleading. You know how badly he wants to dive straight in, but his determination to make you cum too many times to count usually gets in the way of his cock. 

“Haven’t seen you in three weeks. You can make it up to me later.” You joke softly, your fingers undoing the top button with ease. 

Spencer grins as he slides his pants down his legs, kicking them off. He finds himself blushing at how your eyes shamefully stare at the outline of his cock in his boxers, precum already wetting some of the fabric. He finds himself doing the same with you, though, his eyes taking in the undone ribbon of the lingerie at your sides, the way your legs are parted to give him a delicious view of your dripping sensitive folds. 

Your fingers slip into the waistband of his boxers, gently tracing his cock with your fingers, a soft, pleasured sigh leaving his lips at the feeling. “So hard,” You mutter, leaning up to kiss a part of Spencer’s jaw. 

Spencer lets out a low hum of agreement. Being as busy as he has been, he hasn’t found time for any kind of sexual release as of late. “It’s been a little while since I’ve–” 

“That’s okay,” You sigh sensually, your hands wrapping around his dick slowly, “Take off your boxers.” 

Spencer’s more than happy to comply, hurriedly discarding his boxers at your request. He watches as you pull your hand off him to take off your underwear, and Spencer squeaks out a nervous, “Leave it on?” 

Grinning, you nod, your fingers pushing the thong back to the side of him. He groans at the action, looming over you now, his hands on either side of you. “Flip over,” 

A jolt of excitement runs through you at the request, quickly flipping over on your stomach for him. A pleased sound leaves your lips as his hand moves to pull your hips up, forcing your back to arch for him. He slides his thumb and index inside the sting on your thong as he slowly rubs his cock in between your folds– the head of his cock gently kissing your clit. 

The worst part about being in an established relationship and having just started having sex with your partner is the anxiety that follows you after you say something risky. Your lips part nonetheless, your hips pushing back against him quickly, “That’s right, get that cock wet with my pussy.” 

You were never dull during sex, but Spencer was not expecting something so vulgar to fall from your lips. His hips stutter against yours before he finds himself incredibly turned on by the sudden confidence and vulgarity in your words. His hands yank your hips back roughly, lining himself up to inch himself inside of you slowly. 

About halfway inside you, he pulls out till it is just the tip and then repeats the motion— it’s infuriatingly hot. You let out a soft whine at his toying with you and start to move your hips back against him, but that is met with a surprising spank to your ass. 

A sharp gasp leaves your lips at the feelings before you blink, lifting your head to peer at him over your shoulder and whisper a little, “Harder,” 

Seeing your half-lidded eyes looking over at him, your soft lips begging him to spank you harder, Spencer feels a shiver shoot down his spine. He’s sure he can feel himself grow harder as he pushes deeper into your pussy and delivers a solid smack to your ass with the flat of his palm. 

He then follows the motion with a comforting rub of his hand against the swell of your ass. For a second, he’s worried about hurting you or making you uncomfortable–  unexplored territory. The feeling of your walls tightening around him for a second, fluttering in a way that has him bottoming out inside you without hesitation, reassures him. 

“God,” He huffs as he sets a pace, his hand occasionally delivering a hard spank to your ass whenever he feels your hips moving with his. You feel terrific; the feel of your reddening ass under his hand, the soft skin of your hip in his other, he’s surprised that he isn’t drooling. 

You, however, are starting to feel yourself beginning to drool. Moans and groans coming from the two of you has your head spinning, the rough feeling of Spencer’s hips against yours making your legs feel weak. 

Spencer pulls all the way out as he feels himself getting close, his soaked cock resting against your ass– the sight is something has him letting out a shaky sigh. He doesn’t need to say anything before you’re flipping over on your back again, legs spread and lips wet as you mutter a needy sounding, “More.” 

Spencer can’t find it in himself to deny you or himself, moving closer to you and lining himself up with your entrance again. As he sinks into you, you move your legs up, your hands holding the back of your knee. The new position lets him sink in deeper, and Spencer’s sure you’re an angel. 

You’re practically sucking him in, his breathing getting heavier as he moves against you, His eyes dipping between your face and between your legs– intelligent eyes watching the way his cock disappears deep inside of you. “You take it so well.” 

His hands reach up slowly, tracing the back of your thighs before replacing your hands at the back of your knee, bending your legs back further. He places a chaste kiss on your forehead, the gentle gesture leaving your head reeling when accompanied by this immense pleasure. 

You gasp out at the slight burn of your thighs, toes curling slightly, when Spencer starts to roll his hips in fast, tight circles. The roll of his hips makes his cock hit your G-spot, your eyes rolling back at the feeling as a guttural-sounding groan joins the lewd sounds leaving your lips. 

Spencer takes that as his sign to snap his hips into yours, his forehead pressing against yours as he moans and whines. “You feel so fucking good. I’ll never leave again.” 

You can feel your lower abdomen tighten quickly at the rough movements. A shaky laugh leaves you at his mention of never leaving, but words fail you as you cry out. The past few times the two of you have had sex, he was never this rough. You aren’t complaining, but his frantic, rapid thrusts are leaving you with the feeling that you’ll beg for a repeat sometime in the future. 

A long whine leaves you as you feel yourself getting closer, your hands holding tight on Spencer’s shoulders, your body jolting slightly with his rough thrusts. “So good! You’re fucking me so good. Please, don’t stop.” You beg without shame, “Need to cum, make me cum again.” You beg through moans. 

Spencer almost cums inside you upon hearing your begging, but he holds off— a new mission in focus. He slows for a second, moving one of your hands off his shoulder and under your knee before he slides his hand down to your aching clit. His thumb makes quick, tight, hard circles without warning— the scream that leaves your chest has him worried for your neighbors. 

“That’s it, tighten around me like that.” He pants out from above you, his eyes locking onto yours as he speaks. He watches the way your eyebrows raise in pleasure, and your mouth starts to let out a mix of silent screams and loud groans. “You look pretty when you cum around my cock, my pretty girl.” 

Your legs are shaking with that, the coil in your abdomen snapping with force as you bite your bottom lip to try and silence the sound of your orgasm– a groan that almost sounds inhuman. Spencer’s quick to follow, his hips roughly snapping into yours with his thumb continuing its torment on your sensitive clit. 

The feeling of overstimulation has you letting out a weak-sounding whine, almost a sob. You’re gasping hard as he keeps going, frenzied thrusts that have your free hand gripping the sheet tight until he bottoms out in you with a shaking groan. His hips thrust into you a few more times as he empties himself into you, shaking hard. 

A moment passes with neither of you moving, your legs moving down to the bed, and the realization sets in. Spencer looks at you with wild eyes, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–” 

You laughed weakly and held up a hand, “Spencer, it’s okay.” Your voice sounds a little raw as you relax into your bed slightly, with him still hovering over you. “I’m on the pill, remember?” 

“Well, when taken correctly, it’s 99% effective, but if you’ve forgotten a day lately, it’s only 93%.” He pouts lightly when a giggle leaves your lips, but he smiles against his better judgment. “I’m serious, what if…” 

“I doubt it will, but if it does come to that, we’ll deal with it.” You mutter, slowly reaching a hand up to rake your fingers through his messy brown hair. “Clean me up?” 

Spencer notes how your voice sounds: shy and a little desperate. He tilts his head, a playful smile on his face as his eyes trail down to your parted thighs, “Insatiable this evening, I see,” He jokes as he begins to lower himself, soft fingers rubbing against your inner thighs.  

You groan in faux annoyance before you feel his breath fanning against your inner thighs, “Merry Christmas,” You tease softly.

[s0ckh3adstudios]

I REALLY need to stop drawing for now because doing so is inconvenient and uncomfortable but I really wanted to get some stuff out for this AU because I have MANY ideas for it- So!!!!! Here's my take on an ISAT roleswap!!

This is Time Spent Among Stars (TSAS)! I've been brainstorming a lot for it during the past couple of days. If you know me, you know how I go about swap AU's. I try to make things as logical and faithful to both the characters and the universe and the original story as a whole.

When it comes to a roleswap for ISAT, I find it to be a very particular task. This is because ISAT happens for very specific reasons that all stem from Siffrin and the current circumstances he's in. So, go for a roleswap where the circumstances are a bit different. But I also don't want to retread on the story ISAT already told. By that I mean, for example, Twinkle is NOT Bonnie. I wonder who they could be? Alongside this is the fact that is not neccessarily a story about Bonnie needing to learn to talk about feelings or whatever with the fact that they want to stay with the party longer. That is NOT their issue to tackle, that is Siffrin's.

There's also the whole star theme. I always kind of dislike when swap AU's still include star theming and a star Loop equivalent because stars are SIFFRIN'S THING. Now you may be confused. because. hey Sock. you did that with this AU? YES. YES I DID. BUT I FOUND A WAY TO STILL CONNECT IT BACK TO BONNIE REASONABLY AND GAVE THIS AU A REASON TO STILL HAVE ITS CONNECTION TO STARS AND THE COUNTRY AND WHATNOT. GUYS I GOT IT UNDER CONTROL. AND THERE IS A REASON TWINKLE IS A STAR CHARACTER.

That's not enough preamble though- I'll put this under the cut, here's my more specific thoughts on some things and the swaps!

Bonnie is the Traveler (The Runaway)

A little kid living on the streets of Bambouche. They had washed up on shore in another town where they were tossed around foster families. They eventually ran away as none of these homes felt like theirs. They didn’t have many memories and didn’t want their memories to be with these people. Similarly to canon, after Bambouche was frozen by the curse, Bonnie ran and ran and ran from the town to the brink of exhaustion before being found by the party. When Bonnie was younger, Petronille ran away from home with them. They came from an abusive home. The night was stormy and yet Nille decided to escape by boat. They got close to country which was actively being forgotten. Nille fell from the boat, injured, but young Bonnie was fine and their boat wasn’t close enough to join. They would float back to Vaugarde with tampered memories.

Isabeau is the Housemaiden (The Missionary)

When he first went to his local House of Change, he was so inspired and interested in it all that he decided to stay and join the House. He does a lot of mission work, going around Vaugarde to teach the Change belief and whatnot.

Mirabelle is the Fighter (The Warrior)

She felt betrayed and confused and broken after Euphrasie betrayed everyone and did this to Vaugarde. She questioned everything. But she knew there was no time for that. She had to save her country. She felt obligated. She was still blessed by Euphrasie, an action done in the hope that Mirabelle would stay with her and watch the worlds perfection be frozen in time. She reufsed. She became more of a fighter after leaving on her journey, growing much more stressed and a little more on edge. She often doesn’t know her strength.

Siffrin is the Researcher (The Archivist) 

He made a different choice. Instead of letting their hazy baggage hold them back, they wanted answers. If they could never fit in here, he would figure out where he came from and why. He’s spent much of his new life in Vaugarde researching both Vaugarde itself and the mysterious tale of the country he believes they come from. They’re a little quieter and more stern and factual here, but they’re still loveable punny Sif.

Odile is the Chef (The Kid)

A talented chef who takes “too many cooks in the kitchen” to heart and often flew solo. Here she’s more interested in the recipes and food culture of Vaugarde. Instead of a familytale, she’s looking for something else- A book that is like a familytale but for family recipes. Recipes for meals or baked goods can tell you a lot about a family and their history. It’s unique to them. You can tell a lot from them by them if you know how to look. She never had these sorts of meals or recipe books back home. Not one genre of food she could resonate with personally because of her divide between Ka Bue and Vaugarde.

Euphrasie as the King (The Housemaiden}

Claude, her dearest, was killed in an accident regarding one of her creations. It broke her. It got Euphrasie rethinking everything. She didn’t want things to change anymore. She loved how things were. She didn’t want Mirabelle to change, she was happy. She didn’t want Rorey to change, he was doing so much better than when she first met him. She broke down. She wanted the entirety of Vaugarde to stay in this same peaceful happy moment. Not to mention now understanding the terror of the idea of losing her country like Rorey (The King) did.

A lot of other details are relatively the same because these are still the same characters, they’ve just gone through some different circumstances that put them in different roles. Mirabelle is still “the chosen one” and gathers the party. Isabeau is still second to be recruited. Siffrin still doesn’t talk about his feelings (but will have a friend quest where Bonnie helps them with that). Odile, like how she wouldn’t say what she was researching, now won’t tell them what kind of chef she is. Bonnie still isn’t allowed to fight. Etc etc etc.

A lot of these are still concepts and are subject to change but I would love to answer questions and doodle some more when I'm not tired LMAO. Merry Christmas Eve, may Time Spent Among Stars woe be upon ye!

[nesepte]

Forbidden Fruit | Na Jaemin (18+)

Pairing: Brother's best friend Jaemin x fem! reader

Genre: sexual tension, angst, mind games, mutual pining, brother’s best friend, jaemin is also a tease, some more tension Warnings: smut (eventual), sexually explicit, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, drunk sex, smoking, pet names (baby, darling), teasing Please don't read if uncomfortable xD Word Count: 2.1k words

Jaemin was handsome. Jaemin was so bloody handsome that it drove you insane. But he was also Mark’s best friend, and as much as you wanted him, he was your brother’s best friend.

Jaemin was also standing right in front of you, leaning against the door frame, his right hand holding the top for support and his left holding his jacket. His black shirt was unbuttoned till his torso, and his pants were crinkled. His hair was messy and his sighs were heady.

He was drunk. You could smell it.

‘Mark isn’t home,’ you said, hoping he wouldn’t go away.

He looked at you from top to bottom, his eyes stopping at your skirt before looking up.

‘I know,’ he groaned. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Why?’ You blocked his way. It was too risky. Behind her, on the table was the bottle of wine you had downed a few minutes ago and the flush that was creeping its way up to your face was enough to tell you that he shouldn’t be here, not when you were tipsy and alone.

He scoffed, tilting his head to the side. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?’ he mocked, stepping over the threshold.

You had met Jaemin three years ago when Mark had brought his friends home. You knew all of them except him. He was new. He was different. He did not pat your head like you were a kid, nor did he ever treat you like one of the boys. But different isn’t necessarily good and in this case, it was almost torturous.

Those accidental rub of the shoulders, those unintentional graze of your hands, the stolen glances and the lingering gazes. It was nothing, you told yourself, repeating those words over and over in your head every time Jaemin would visit, till you could think of nothing but him.

‘I can go back, if you’d like.’ His voice came out hoarse.

Without a thought, you took a step back, allowing him inside, and the moment he closed the door behind him without your protests, he smirked, spotting the empty wine bottle on the table.

‘Having a party… alone?’

‘Is there something you want?’ you asked, keeping the tremble out of your voice as best you could.

‘Hm…’ He met her eyes.

‘What?’

But he chose to keep quiet.

Stumbling, he made his way to the table and sat himself down, letting his head lean back. ‘Water…’ he groaned, throwing his jacket on the side and unbuttoning the remaining buttons on his shirt.

This is bad. This is bad, you repeated in your mind, keeping your eyes away from his chest. Your hands were shivering and your face had grown hot. You could feel the heat rising inside you and was sure that you weren’t hiding it well.

‘Here.’ You offered him the glass of water and watched him gulp it down, slowly, the droplets dribbling down his bobbing throat to his chest, drenching his shirt where it still made contact with his skin.

‘Are you done gawking?’ he said, with his last gulp.

The question angered you. It was one thing to tease but you didn’t like the insinuation that you were the only one who was holding back. You had seen him watch too. Those lingering gazes weren’t one-sided.

‘I wasn’t,’ you said, defiantly.

‘Sure,’ he scoffed.

‘As if you have never.’

‘Never what?’

‘Gawked at me.’

He liked this. You could see it in his eyes. The little game that he had just set for the both of you and how you had become a player without ever consenting to it.

‘Maybe I have,’ he said, running his fingers through his dark hair that fell over his eyes and groaned, ‘Ah, but you’re his sister. I can’t. We can’t…’

‘Hey, you alright?’

‘Jaemin was barely holding on. This whisky he had had on his way over was finally taking hold. He shook his head and took out a cigarette from his pocket.

‘Mark won’t like it if you smoke here,’ you warned.

‘Mark won’t like a lot of things I have on my mind right now,’ he slurred and lit the cigarette between his lips. Taking painfully slow drags out of the stick, he blew out the smoke that smelled of whisky, letting the ash fall to the ground.

You waited, still. And when he was done, he let go of the cigarette butt and crushed it beneath his boot.

‘No,’ he answered your earlier question.

‘Hm?’

‘I don’t feel alright,’ he said.

‘Oh, do you want water?’ you asked, knowing already that this wasn’t what he wanted but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction by folding first.

‘No,’ he replied, his eyes steady on you.

‘Want to lie down?’ you asked and he smirked hearing the hitch in your breath.

‘No,’ he whispered. He had to be patient. You were almost there.

‘What do you want then?’

‘Why don’t you guess?’

‘I am not going to play your games,’ you hissed.

‘Don’t act like you are not enjoying this.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

He waited, then sighed. ‘Can you rub my back for me?’ Sometimes, it’s better to take a step back to draw the other one out.

Your fingers twitched and your throat gulped dryly. It was obvious, so damn obvious and you hated how your body was reacting to his words.

‘Is there something wrong?’ Do you not trust yourself?’ he said, spreading his legs for you.

This was it. He had laid the perfect bait. Denying the challenge meant admitting to his accusation. Accepting it, meant torture.

Pressing your lips together, you took a step to him and without hesitation, ran your palm down his broad back.

There was no way you were going down without a fight.

You nudged forward between his legs as you slowly stroked his back. It was your turn to draw him out. There was no hurry, not anymore— you took your time, feeling every inch of his back under your fingers, making sure he knew who was in charge right now. Every brush, every stroke, every touch was intentional, pausing where his body reacted but lingering not more than a second. You were not going to give this to him so easily. The heat from your palms spread over his back like a drop of paint in water. He was leaning into it, sighing when he didn’t want to, groaning when he knew he shouldn’t. You pulled him, dragged him out with every rub, your own breath growing heavy seeing his gleaming eyes drooping, sensing his pulse quickening.

Fuck, what have you done.

His hands found your legs. ‘Hm…’ he mumbled against your stomach, pulling you in.

‘Jaemin,’ you breathed out as his palms found their way upwards. ‘We should stop.’

‘We should,’ he agreed with no intention of stopping.

‘This is wrong.’

‘It is.’

‘Stop it.’

‘You first.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Then don’t,’ he hissed and rose to his feet. This was enough.

He pushed you against the table, an arm holding your waist, the other bracing against the edge.

‘How much have you had to drink?’ he asked against your lips, his warm breath fanning over your face.

‘T-The bottle of wine,’ you whimpered.

‘Just that?’ His voice was desperate, his words strained.

‘Just that,’ you echoed and felt him tighten his grip around you.

‘Do you realize what I want to do?’ He pressed his forehead against you, his hands pulling the fabric of your top.

You nodded.

‘I am your brother’s best friend,’ he reminded you and waited.

‘You are my brother’s best friend,’ you replied, lip quivering against his.

‘Are you sure you want this?’ he asked.

You nodded again, your own desperation growing.

‘’No, say it. Do you want me to fuck you?’

‘I want it, Jaemin,’ you almost moaned out. ‘I want you to fuck me.’

‘He grinned against your jaw. ‘Aw, baby, look at you. You sound so pathetic, and I haven’t even started yet.’

This was when you realized how badly you had lost this round.

Shameless as it was, your gaze found his lips, and Jaemin didn’t waste a single second in useless chatter after that. He kissed you, hungry and full, his hand tangled in your hair. And oh, how you melted into him, letting his pull you closer to him.

It was just how you had imagined it countless times before— hot, messy, and desperate. He tasted of whisky and smelled of smoke. It was almost dizzying and you were sure that Jaemin was holding you up. But you inhaled him whole, not wanting to waste a single breath that didn’t pull you closer to him.

He sucked at your lips, nipped and bit when it wasn’t enough, his tongue hot in your mouth. It was almost pathetic how he bucked his hips against you, pressing his bulge, making you moan. He kissed your jaw, his lips trailing down to your neck where he marked you red.

‘Ugh, Jaemin,’ you moaned and he kissed her mouth again as if he had forgotten what it tasted like in the seconds that had passed. He had forgotten how to breathe, how to exist without you.

With a groan, he pulled back and for a moment you thought he was stopping. But when his eyes met yours, you both knew. This was it. But he had to be sure.

‘Baby…’ he whispered breathlessly.

‘Yes, fuck me,’ you cried out.

You couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. It was too far away and the walk was too long. Jaemin helped you up the table. Your hand knocked over the wine bottle and somewhere in the distance you heard it shattering to the floor, the remaining wine spilling out from between the shards behind you.

Unzipping his pants, he pulled your underwear down from beneath your skirt.

‘Oh baby, you are so wet for me,’ he panted against your lips, biting it once again as his fingers worked between your folds. ‘Such a good girl.’

‘Stop teasing,’ you whined as he rubbed his length along your warmth. It was all too much, too agonizing to bear. ‘Please…’

He pushed his way in, slowly, swallowing your moans into his mouth. Your eyes rolled back into your head as your legs wrapped themselves around his waist.

‘Mhngh…’

He waited but only for a single torturous moment before pulling out and thrusting in again, harder this time.

‘Y-Yes,’ you breathed.

His pants pooled around his ankles, his shirt drooping off his shoulders, he fucked into you again and again, your bodies falling into a rhythm of their own. The sound of your skins slapping against each other echoed in the hollow, your sinful moans marking each thrust as he plunged deeper into you.

‘Do you like me this much, huh?’ He increased his pace as you clutched onto him. ‘Have you been dreaming about me baby?’

You bit onto his shoulder, your nails digging on his sweaty back.

‘Did you picture this every time I came over?’ he teased, holding you by your jaw to make you look at him. ‘Huh baby? Did you imagine me fucking you every time you touched yourself?’

‘Jaemin…’ You weren’t even listening anymore. His arm around you, his chest against yours, his mouth sucking on your neck and his dick thrusting inside you. You were full— full of him, overwhelmed by his scent, consumed by his body. You felt small in front of his desire, yet to him, you looked the prettiest when falling apart in his arms like that.

‘I know,’ he soothed you, still fucking you into the table. ‘I know, darling. God, I have dreamed about fucking you too. You have no idea how many wretched nights I have spent touching myself thinking about you.’

‘Hm, right there, y-yes, don’t stop…’

‘Oh, don’t worry, baby. I won’t stop till I make you come.’

You threw your head back, the knot inside you threatening to unravel. You screamed his name as you clenched around him, making him groan and bite your shoulder. But he held onto you as you squirmed in his arms from your release.

‘Yes, baby, so beautiful,’ he grunted, his eyes glazed over from watching you come undone like that. He was still thrusting inside you, his own rhythm becoming sloppier and with a final clench, he pulled out, spilling his white onto your thigh.

You stayed still, foreheads pressed, panting into each other’s mouths, your hands refusing to let go of the other. There was a distant knock, probably a doorbell— you two couldn’t tell.

You looked up at him. He was already smiling, or was it a smirk. ‘Mark is going to kill you,’ you reminded him.

‘Small price to fuck you,’ he replied.

[xxnashiraxx]

Pairing: Astarion/f!Durge ◇ Astarion/f!OC (Ofelia)

Word Count: 6,119

Tags/Warnings: Mature (slight spice), Soft Astarion, Fluff

Summary: It's December in Baldur’s Gate and the snow is falling on Act 3 of Ofelia's adventure. After falling ill to a cold that prevents her from spreading the joy of Christmas to her companions, they decide to band together and prepare it in secret as a surprise for her. As they look for decorations, gifts, and a tree, Astarion reflects on his time with her and contemplates whether or not his gift will convey the depth of his true feelings...

divider here!

AO3 | Song Reference: Let it Snow!

Hi everyone!!! My apologies for this trainwreck, I tried my best on little time, but I really wanted to write something sweet for these two, and I owe inspiration for this oneshot to @caffeinatedmunchkin ! Thank you again friend!!! I also tried as far as the elvish, so please bear with me 🙏🏼

Please enjoy- fluff was needed for the season, and I hope everyone has a lovely day if you celebrate!!! ❤️ You do not need to read the main fic to read this one- it's its own little standalone! 💕

“So, you expect us to believe that some jolly old man goes around to every child in your world and delivers gifts on this ‘Christmas Eve’?” Gale's tone, while incredulous, remains cheerful. “That does not seem feasible, given your planet's population.”

“Well, not every child celebrates Christmas, so not all seven billion. But yeah pretty much,” Ofelia’s eyes light with amusement as Gale begins another spiel into logic and probability, causing Astarion to roll his eyes and grumble into the chalice of blood Ofelia had filled for him not but a few minutes ago.

“It's just make-believe!” Ofelia spouts around giggles, her smile bright. “Not real! Something you tell kids so they behave, but the holiday is still the same- parents get their children gifts, blame it on Santa, make cookies and leave milk out for him for his journey, hang stockings on the mantle to see if they get coal if they’re bad or sweets and little toys if they’re good. It's all for fun- I myself most enjoy the snow and decorations.” She sounds wistful as their ragtag group listens. He watches her face twist slightly as if recalling a bad memory, and he pays attention to the warble in her voice when she next speaks.

“I haven't had a real Christmas since I was still young enough to believe… my parents did everything for me, those first nine years. It was always so magical… pazole, tamales, candy, gifts- I wished they wouldn't have, but they'd do everything, take extra shifts just so there was something under the tree for me… I miss them this time of year. Just a little bit extra.” No longer afraid of the warmth that blooms in his chest, he reaches for her and when his hand rests over her shoulder she turns to him and quickly wipes the moisture from the corner of her eye. Her cheeks crease with an appreciative smile and she squeezes his hand in thanks as the others look around.

“Would you want to celebrate it here?” Karlach asks, setting her cleaned plate off to the side on one of the many little tables littered around their common space in the Elfsong.

“You guys want to?” Ofelia asks with a soft huff, hefty emotion washing from her voice amid the sweet hope that spreads over her face.

“We may not have Santa, but why not? The spirit of gift giving and love isn’t foreign here,” Gale smiles, patting Ofelia’s opposite shoulder.

“Okay… yeah! We’ll have to find a tree, and ornaments, and gift wrapping of some kind- paper will do! Stockings to hang over the fire for each of us… day after tomorrow!” Her eyes brighten at each syllable, and for all the teasing he’d love to utter, he can’t find it in himself to poke when this is the happiest she’s looked since they’d arrived in Baldur’s Gate.

And gods, if it isn’t the happiest he’s been, as well. Since Cazador fell. They still have the brain and two of the Dead Three's chosen left, but curse it all to the hells. Right now perhaps they can indulge in some respite from it all. The calm before the storm.

They move through the rest of the day restocking their supplies, tracking down various needs, and chasing some loose ends. They discover more of Orin’s handiwork littered throughout the city, much to Ofelia’s chagrin, but decide to turn in early in the hopes of getting started on their decorating. Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

“I’m afraid healing magic really only works on injuries and the like- I’m sorry, Ofelia. I know how much this meant to you… perhaps we can have it later in the week?” Shadowheart strokes the human’s face softly, her pale hand meeting russet, clammy skin. Ofelia nods, eyes shifting to a corner of the room as the half-elf leaves and shoots Astarion a pitying frown. When the door shuts, he sinks down beside her and strokes the hair off her cheeks and forehead, fever hot against his cold undead hands.

“This sucks…” She mutters, cheeks ruddy with heat as her body fights against an infection they have no hope of combatting with anything but time and herbs. Already, Jaheira had mixed what little items she had into a concoction Ofelia had knocked back minutes ago, and though a bit of color has returned to her lips, she’s not exactly the picture of good health.

“I’m sorry, darling,” He murmurs, resting the back of his hand against her cheek. He knows she likes it when he does, and she typically runs hot, but this is something else entirely and it pulls at his unbeating heart.

“No, it’s okay… it’s been so long since I’ve tried to decorate, but I did try last year- look.” She strains to her right to grab the object that always manages to mystify him and she starts to scroll through the little frozen pictures on her device before holding some up to him. “I got this really stupid fake tiny tree and I put all those little things on it, got some tinsel and hung it up around the doors and windows.” He peers down at the small room she’d once called home- bright metallic garlands trimming the entryways with twinkling lights adorning the small tree that sits on a table in the center of it. His lips tick up at the corners as he sees her in the next photo, bright red painted lips and golden eyelids, some terribly gaudy red and green jumper covering her chest.

“Beautiful, and loud. As always,” She rolls her eyes at his attempt to poke fun, leaning down more fully onto his right elbow as she tucks herself closer to him.

“I wanted to get a big one this time… really show you guys what it looks like, though I’m not sure what the hell I’d do about the bulbs, or lights, or star on top…” She smiles up at him and he feels his chest twinge with guilt. Of course she’d gone and gotten herself sick somehow…

“There’s… always next year,” He says around the strange doubt in his mind. It’s nothing but disbelief- disbelief that she’s with him at all. That she keeps telling him she loves him. That she keeps promising they’ll defeat the brain and get rid of Orin and Gortash and be able to breathe once it’s all over… together. Sometimes the incredulity of it all still catches him off guard.

“You’re such a big softie, really,” He huffs a laugh, reaching down to pinch one of her cheeks before pressing a terse kiss to the crown of her head.

“And the mistletoe, gods, can’t forget the mistletoe!” She groans, pressing a hand over her eyes as she collapses into the pillows.

“Mistletoe?” He questions. She sighs, spreading her fingers enough so that one eye peeps up at him.

“It’s silly, but you hang it up over a doorway- it’s got these spiky green leaves and cute red berries on it- and if you pass under it with someone else you have to kiss. It’s just the rules,” He smiles, lost amid her explanation though enamored by the wonder in her voice as she speaks. “I've never been kissed under the mistletoe, you know…”

“Hmm, you haven't? Seems we'll have to change that in the future.” She giggles under the kiss he presses to her forehead, careful and full of promise. When he stands he strokes her cheek once more before adjusting the blankets.

“Get some rest, I’ll bring back some soup in a little while.” He whispers, taking her device from her to set back onto the nightstand. She pouts up at him, curiosity in her gaze, and he finishes tucking her in. “I’ll be back, promise,”

Once out in the main room, he finds the rest of his travelling companions speaking in hushed voices around the fireplace, Scratch pacing near Astarion’s feet. The dog quickly ducks in before Astarion gets the door shut, and he smirks knowing Ofelia will at least have some company before he returns to bed. Nearly every morning that mutt’s laying between them or with half his body draped over her legs. She doesn’t seem to mind, and he’s starting to grow accustomed to the beast as well, much to his disdain…

“Vampire- what are we doing about this Christmas?” Lae’zel demands as soon as he’s within a few feet of them. He simpers and sits on a lush ottoman, draping one leg over the other as he accepts a glass of wine from Gale.

“Gods, Lae’zel. We’ve only been travelling together for the last few months, I’d expect you’d have remembered my name by now.” His sly remark is met with the githyanki’s signature Tchk! before Shadowheart grins.

“Now, now, try to get along you two. Your mediator isn’t here,” The half-elf snickers, and Astarion sighs, waving a hand towards the others.

“So, what were you all murmuring about before I came out here? I’m assuming it has something to do with dear Lae’zel’s questioning?” He takes a sip of the wine- an expensive sort that flows easily down his throat- and casts his eyes amongst the others as he watches them exchange nods.

“We want to put it on anyway,” Gale explains, the dark liquor in his glass catching the light of the fire. “She spoke so fondly of it this morning, and to get sick now… it isn’t fair.” Astarion hums, pondering the silence that settles over them once Gale is finished.

He’d been of a similar mind as she’d shown him her pictures- it’d be no easy task to find a tree, especially with them being in the heart of the Gate. Then there was the tinsel he’d seen… they’d perhaps be able to find something like that in the city, the baubles…

“My, my, it’s odd being amongst you all once you actually experience an intelligent thought.” Their murmurs of disbelief and annoyance fuel the smirk that spreads over his lips as he waves a hand “I’ve been snooping through her photos and I’ve got some references we can likely use, though wrestling her away from the damn thing will be a feat in and of itself.” Astarion grumbles around another swig.

“Leave that to me,” Shadowheart assures, clapping her hands together once. “I’ll run her a bath in the morning and make sure she stays in it for a few hours. To ‘leech the toxins’ so to speak. It isn’t as if she’s well versed to our healing methods to know I’m making it up,” Astarion nods, pondering, as the others chime in.

“The tree… we won’t be able to sneak that into the city,” Wyll laments, forefinger stroking over the fine hairs on his face.

“If you were able to secure a sapling, I’m sure I’d be able to encourage it to grow quickly enough.” Halsin adds, earning a nod from the Blade.

“I’ll help with that as well,” Jaheira offers, smile on her softly lined face.

“What about the decorations?” Minthara asks, frowning.

“We’ll figure something out- I’m sure there are plenty of merchants with trinkets and baubles around- Sundries may also have something. We should ask Rolan and his siblings, as well. I seem to remember that Lia had some dolls and things made for the children once they got to the city.” Astarion nods at Gale’s words, contemplating.

“And do not forget gifts for her,” Astarion murmurs crossly, eyes flashing around the room. “At least have the common sense to wrap them first,”

“Course not,” Karlach grins a wide, toothy smile, the likes of which sets his teeth on edge. He'll never let on that it does somewhat please him, however. “We'll get gifts for Ofelia and each other!”

They scatter to their personal rooms or beds, plan worked out in the dim candlelight and hearth as if they’re a secret society. He crawls into bed with his lover, her’s and Scratch’s soft snores filling the room much to his amusement. He checks her temperature, sigh soft on his lips as he rests back against the pillows when he finds it unchanged.

As he lays in bed, his mind spins with the possibilities of all the gifts he could possibly get her- if it were up to him, he’d likely not get one at all. Perhaps steal something.

Images of her adorned with pretty scarlet jewels and glistening pearls flood his vision, though something about jewelry feels almost cold and distant- too obvious a choice. Or possibly even too meaningful, something he isn’t ready for…

No… despite her expect-nothing nature, he’d like to at least try to make this sentimental and meaningful. It could be their last celebration, after all, and gods does he care for her too much not to indulge this simple, saccharine wish. He’ll need to put in the effort- just as she puts in the effort to make him feel cared for each day. He wouldn’t be where he is now without her… without her kindness. It’s a blessing he tries not to take for granted, though he does slip up from time to time. He cannot make that mistake now.

He rises from the bed, trancing left for later, as he pulls some items out of his pack and retrieves a tool kit from the main stock supplies. He’s not sure if he’ll be any good at this, but he doesn’t trust someone else to do the job.

***

“I feel better this morning, I swear…” Ofelia grumbles as Astarion kisses her awake. For the umpteenth time, she thanks the gods that he can’t catch her cold. It’s nice to indulge in a tender kiss first thing, though she’s sure she looks positively awful. Pale skin, scarlet cheeks, sweaty and clammy. She huffs a laugh and pushes him away, making to sit up and use the restroom, but her vision tilts and she stays seated, clutching her head.

“You feel better, hmm?” He trills softly, last syllable enunciated with a haughty laugh. Smug bastard.

“I swear, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re actually enjoying this.” He stands above her, back of his hand pressing against her forehead, and she lets out a soft moan at the relief. The heat behind her eyelids slowly recedes beneath his touch, and she clutches his hand to hold it still as he hums quietly.

“Well, you do push yourself far too much, darling. Though your pain is something I do not take pleasure in, under these circumstances at least,” She rolls her eyes at the smirk over his lips, longing curling low in her belly in spite of the state of her body.

“Yeah well, you and me both.” She sighs, kissing the back of his hand, and he stoops down to place one of his over her forehead.

“I have some errands to run with Gale of all people- Shadowheart volunteered to stay with you, said she would like to try some kind of healing bath? Silly in my opinion, but who am I to question a cleric’s healing skills?” She groans, lying back on the mattress to stare at the ceiling. She’d really wanted to see if she could convince them to let her go out and find decorations, at least put them up… but it’s not looking probable. That and she’d lied about feeling better to worm her way out of staying in today.

“Ughhhhh,” Her long drawn out groan pulls a light chuckle from the elf and she reaches up to pull him down, knee between her thighs on the spare bit of mattress available, hands at either side of her head. She wraps her arms around his torso and clings to him, trying to absorb as much of him as possible before he leaves for the day.

“I’ll be back later, just relax and enjoy your bath. Maybe there'll be a reward in it for you,” She sighs into his neck, pressing a hot kiss to his skin fueled by the promise of his words, and she smiles when his muscles stiffen. “Patience, dear,” He murmurs as he pulls away and she squeezes him one last time before letting go. There’s a knock at their door and Shadowheart appears, arms laden with towels and supplies. Ofelia smiles forlornly at her, her own far too empty in Astarion’s absence.

She doesn’t notice as she’s ushered into the washroom Astarion’s quick swipe of her phone off the nightstand, or his soft smile in her direction. She doesn’t see that smile widen into a pleased grin as his fingers snake around the gift in his pocket, clutching it with a light squeeze.

***

“Do you think she’ll like it in the morning?” Gale asks Astarion softly, the fruits of their labor casting the main room in a festive glow. Somehow, he’d been able to obtain a lighting spell scroll- something Rolan had insisted upon them not paying for once he’d heard it was for Ofelia’s benefit. Astarion had rolled his eyes- that tiefling wizard ever hopelessly infatuated despite Ofelia’s vehement denial- and they’d stopped for some books as Gale’s gift to her before Astarion had found something for the man as well. His eyes also caught on a crystal carved into the shape of a crescent moon for Shadowheart, and upon realizing his gaze was tracking items for his companions, promptly huffed in annoyance. He’d grabbed the item anyway.

“I think a twig in the corner with lights on it would send her into a fit, but this is much better.” Astarion sighs, thanking the help from the Midwinter celebrations going on around the city for the garlands of pine and the berries that now hang in the frame of every doorway. It’s not as gaudy or brightly colored as the decorations in her apartment from the photos he’d shown them all this morning, but it’ll do. Even he’s feeling a bit of wonder gazing at the lovely spruce the two druids in their group had spent nurturing, as well as cladding in brightly colored glass sphere’s Karlach procured from a friend she’d known before she’d been cast into Avernus.

Presents wrapped in paper of varying colors sit beneath the full branches, a blanket protecting them from the cold floor as Scratch paws restlessly at a long, stick shaped present wrapped in blue paper with his name penned gracefully across its front. Astarion smirks- she’ll get a kick out of that one.

“Great job, Fangs. I almost forget you don’t have a functioning heart sometimes.” Karlach’s teary voice scrapes against his nerves and he sneers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t go spreading that around,” They poke fun at him some more, and thankfully he’s saved by Minthara’s short temper as she demands they all get to bed. It’s almost midnight and she’s not missing a stop from the old geezer- much to his amusement. He just barely manages to duck into his room before they dissolve into a debate about whether or not she’d paid attention to Ofelia’s story, shutting it with a soft click as he stalks over to the bed, shedding clothes on the way.

He hears even breathing- her airways finally starting to clear- and just as he slips beneath the sheets he nearly yelps.

“Hiding from me all day- what, I’m sick and you’re out there looking for a replacement after I wither away?” Her tone is playful and he smirks, admiring the color returning to her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes beneath the light of the full moon. Beneath him.

“Hmm, yes, I was shopping for a new lover today. Pity they all didn’t seem to match your prowess at being irritating. And none of them had these- seems I’m doomed to solitude.” His hands cup her breasts, separated from him by the thin layer of her cotton shirt, and she rolls her eyes and pouts.

“All you’d miss are my tits and my attitude. Rude,” A smile at the corner of her lips betrays her and he grins, fangy and wide, before claiming that smile with a kiss. “Missed you…” She hums, arms winding around his waist, and he matches the sound with sincerity, finding that his day while busy was severely lacking her presence. A travesty, indeed.

“Your fever’s gone,” He mumbles, enjoying the taste of her mouth and the way her hips slightly buck into his own, the hands still firmly anchored to her chest kneading softly. She sighs, baring her throat, and it’s all he can do to not sink his teeth in. Just a bit more recovery, and he’ll indulge in her blood again. He’s holding over with animals in the meantime.

“Mmm, whatever was in that bath made me feel a lot better. And whatever the hell concoction Jaheira made me drink earlier, too- tasted awful but I think it helped.” Her eyes find him and he brushes the hair from her face, slowly sinking onto his side and off of her.

“Good, perhaps we can get back on schedule tomorrow since you’ll be done lazing about.” She scowls and smacks his arm away before yanking the sheets up beneath her chin.

“And I was going to offer you my mouth- jerk.”

“I’ll still take it.”

“Haha. Goodnight.” He smirks and presses a kiss to her lips before lying back, eyes tracking over the beams on the ceiling as she snuggles up close and rests her head over his bicep.

“Goodnight, love.” He whispers, heart tethered to the small gift he intends to give her tomorrow, hope brimming at the fringes of his mind as he pictures her opening it.

***

“Astarion! It’s snowing look, look, wake up!” He does with a start as her hands shake his shoulders, startled out of the trance and back into the real world. For once, his reverie was clouded in visions of her and not nightmarish memories, and as he opens his eyes he yawns.

“It’s been snowing the last couple of days,” He murmurs, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he rises and lets her drag him to the window.

“Yeah, but this one’s stuck,” Her grin is nearly contagious and he fights back the compulsion to instead press his cold nose to the back of her neck as he pulls her into his arms, hands resting over her belly.

“It’s cold, white, a pain to deal with… I’m not sure what you’re so excited about.” He mouths lazily at her pulse point, delighted as her heart beat speeds up, and she laughs.

“You realize you’ve just described yourself, right?” His lips idle over her skin and with an annoyed sigh he bites enough to leave the impression of his teeth but not pierce, earning a satisfying gasp of surprise from her.

“Get dressed, I think you can leave quarantine for breakfast, today,” He knows the plan- pretends that the routine is back to normal. She slips from his arms and goes to her pile of clothing- gods, is she messy- and pulls out some comfortable pants and flashes him a look.

“Get out, I’m going to change.” She demands and he scoffs.

“I’ve seen you naked more times than I can remember, why can’t I stay?” He plays the part of mock dissatisfaction, though he’s silently pleased. It’ll give him an opportunity to check and make sure the dullards outside are ready.

“Just- out!” He huffs, pulling on a pair of pants before making for the door. His tadpole seeks Gale’s, and upon confirming that they’re aware it’s just Astarion exiting the room, he slips out and closes the door behind him.

“She almost ready?” Wyll whispers, tweaking some of the garlands over the mantle as Lae’zel places little rocks in each sock. She’d been far too amused at the prospect of coal for naughty behavior, and had been adamant that none of them deserved candy and would all get a piece each to keep them in perspective. He has to admit, it is a little amusing.

“Getting dressed- should be any moment-” Just as the word leaves his mouth, the door behind him opens and he steps to the side with his heart in his throat.

She’s completely silent, hair brushed into soft waves laying down her back, proper attire donning her body save for the slippers on her feet, and they all hold their breath as her gaze sweeps over the room.

“Hu-huh…?” She mumbles, breath catching, and he watches intently as moisture begins to bead in the corners of her eyes. They all exchange glances, frozen in anticipation, before her hands cover her mouth and she starts to sob. “You guys? Are you serious?”

“Merry Christmas!” Most of them chant- Astarion forgets, Minthara’s nose is buried in a fragrant chardonnay but she tilts the glass in acknowledgement- and they all rush her before he has a chance to dodge them. He’s swept up in Karlach’s large wingspan as she tucks them together and squeezes until white blotches dot his vision, yet the delight from Ofelia keeps him from complaining too loudly about it. Mostly.

She turns to him between embraces, eyes round and soft, and his chest goes tight as he offers her a smile reserved for no other but her. It’s sweet when she returns it- steals the breath he doesn’t need from his lungs, and when she goes to pull him in she clings to him and whispers little reverent ‘I love you’s into his ear as if he’d hung the moon itself. Pride and affection blooms within, and he presses kisses to the side of her head where the others can’t see, though he wouldn’t mind if they did. He’s long past the notion of hiding his feelings for her. From himself or otherwise.

They push her into the best seat- one the others usually fight over- and Karlach excitedly pulls gifts from the pile to start passing around. Astarion’s gift to her is tucked behind the tree and hidden- saving the best for last. Hopefully. No, he’s confident.

Ofelia laughs at the coal in the sock, munches on fudge from the bakery near the entrance to the upper city, enjoys the books Gale’s gifted her and the plush dog that Lia had sewn and stuffed. She remarks about the lights, face brighter than he’s ever seen it, and forces Minthara into a tight hug and kiss on her plum cheeks as Ofelia clutches the necklace adorned with a single ruby charm and spider etched into its stone. The drow protests and growls in annoyance, but it’s all really just for show. Once turned away, she smiles into her cup and quickly clears her throat afterward.

They all offer her small trinkets or treats, and he’s content to just sit and watch, but he’s swept up by the spirit of it all as he opens small packages with his name on it. A silver pocket watch from Shadowheart, a silken kerchief from Wyll, a new scabbard for his dagger in dark leather from Lae’zel. He’d not expected anything, even vehemently enunciated that this is for her, not him, but despite his claims it seems no one listened to him. What else is new?

“That’s it!” Karlach proclaims from beside the tree, tossing candy and pastries in her mouth by the fistful as the others sip on warm beverages or partake in alcohol around the heat of the fire. His eyes go to the frosted window, the entire city covered in a blanket of white. He decides, for the first time, that it looks much better this way.

“You didn’t get anything for Ofelia?” Gale asks, and Astarion’s hackles raise as he feels the ire rise and claim the atmosphere.

“I saved the best for last,” He stands with a flourish, calming the mood before his head ends up on a pike. “Besides, who went to all this trouble?”

“Don’t take all the credit!” Shadowheart snaps and he smiles as he turns his back to them, going behind the tree to pluck his gift from beneath an alcove in the wall. His eyes linger over shiny red paper- this, at least, he'd stolen. For a moment, he hesitates. His fingers wrap around it, her name glaring back, and he wonders if this will be good enough. He'd seen everyone's carefully thought out gifts, hells, had even managed to hit the nail on its head a few times for the others. But Ofelia? She's the one he needs to get right. Above all else, he can't fail.

He steels himself and turns, each step towards her smiling face making him question the object in his outstretched hand, and when she takes it he stands stiff and still- making no move to breathe or blink or talk. She gingerly unwraps it at the seams, her pulse racing in his ears as she continues to pry back the paper, and he watches her stop as a soft breath vacates her lungs.

“Star…” It feels as if a century passes before his eyes when she finally speaks, pulling the dagger from the paper to hold up and admire. The metal flashes, light glancing off the engraving near the hilt- one she speaks in hushed tones as if in prayer.

“Nin anor,” Her lips shape around the elegant script as if she's painting it in the air, and once it's hanging around them he knows it's right. Knows it's right in the way she looks at him, in the way the sun, through a break in the clouds, casts a golden glow around her. It breaks on her skin and sinks in, frames her like it did that day in the sand, that day he'd first tasted freedom. The first day he'd met her and had heard her heart quicken beneath the sharp edge of his blade- the blade she now cradles in her hands.

Purpose, like a compulsion, stole his mind the moment chisel met steel. Illuminated by candles, he'd carved in elvish the words he's said to her over and over, again and again. Against her lips as he makes love to her, into the crown of her head as he pulls her into an embrace. Softly, against her forearm as she returned to herself enough to let go of his neck and fight the urge…

“My sun…” He breathes back, and she's out of the chair faster than he can blink. With a laugh that's no more than a huff, he wraps his arms around her and squeezes back, smiles as she laughs and sniffles and sighs.

“I love you,” It's quiet against his ear, and a barely perceptible shiver trembles through his limbs in reply. He'd been worried for nothing, and that's cemented further when she pulls back and the grin on her face renders him speechless.

“A knife? You got her a knife?” Karlach asks, bewildered, and the tension in his limbs falls away when Ofelia looks at him and laughs. This time, he doesn't fight the impulse to join her and it's freeing and juvenile, but worth the joy it brings.

***

“It's the one he threatened me with when we first met,” Ofelia smiles as she finishes off her plate of roast meats, fresh greens and potatoes. She pushes it towards the center of the table, leaning back in the chair as she admires the way the fire looks as it dances in his crimson eyes. He's beautiful, and her heart slams into her ribs like it's trying to break free- that look he gives her never failing to stir an ache in her chest that feels like it consumes just as much as it grows.

“Hmmm… and how is that romantic?” Gale asks around the cookie in his mouth. Ofelia chuckles at his muffled words, about to speak when Minthara beats her to it.

“Is it not provocative to feel the sting of your lover's blade against your skin? The dance between pleasure and pain, the testament of your trust in them not to supply too much pressure lest they end your life?” Gale swallows thickly, stiffening when the drow places her hand on his arm. “If you do not understand, I will show you tonight, wizard.”

Their group laughs, partaking in drinks that almost remind Ofelia of home. Something that tastes like hot chocolate fills her belly as Astarion holds her close, swaying softly to the music that pours from Ofelia's speaker- an old favorite.

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” She murmurs against his shoulder, echoing the melody as he squeezes her hips.

“You liked your gift?” His voice is quiet- almost shy. Her arms circle him tighter, letting him guide her through the room as their companions slowly start to filter off to bed. The entire day had been like a dream- a perfect, beautiful reprieve from pain or worry. Something rare and sweet- sorely missed in the years since and filling the empty hole in her heart with so much that it almost hurts to contain. Family. Love.

“I'll cherish it forever, Star,” She smiles, pulling away to stroke her fingers over his cheek. It's cool beneath them, and his smile is relaxed as it spreads over his face. She bumps the door frame to their room with a soft laugh and his gaze lifts up above her head, causing her to redirect hers and stop almost disbelievingly over green leaves and white berries.

“There weren't any red,” He hums softly, but her throat is dry and her ears are filled with cotton when she looks back at him. Moonlight turns his hair to silver and his skin to marble, and as she looks at him and watches him lean closer, she's not sure if she'll ever deserve the affection he now presses to her lips.

Hands tangle in her long hair, chest to chest, the taste of wine on his tongue- her stomach clenches in fear of the future, of losing it all, of making a mistake or failing to free them from the brain. All of it looms like a dark cloud, trying to swallow her whole, but then he's pushing them into the room, shutting their door and latching it. He's driving her back, legs folding until she's forced to collapse onto the mattress, heat pooling in her belly low and needy when he goes to push her sweater up over her head.

“I feel bad I didn't get anyone else a gift,” She whispers and he snorts, discarding his shirt onto the floor as he starts to untie the shirt barring him from further access.

“Anyone else? What did you get me?” She laughs when he stops, frozen at the sight beneath her clothes.

“I got these a few days ago… was going to at least do this since I couldn't get presents or decorate.” His irises narrow into thin lines between the enlarging of his pupils, gaze dragging down her form as he tugs her pants down and off. Ribbons and lace, scarlet and black, cradle her breasts and expose the underside of them while big red bows conceal her nipples. Her underwear leaves nothing to the imagination, either, and his lips part around a raw hum of appreciation when he discovers with his eyes the way the fabric conveniently vanishes beneath the waistband.

“Gods…” It's brittle and needy and she smiles wickedly when his clothes fall to the floor.

“Unwrap me?” She whispers.

“Yes,” He breathes.

She laughs as his fingers find give on the bows and he pulls them apart, mouth chasing his touch as he pushes her thighs back and sinks inside. She sobs his name as he sets a feverish pace, mind nothing but foggy desire and heady affection. Affection for him, for this, for them. She clings to him like her life depends on it, canting her hips in time with his, every sensation as intense and lovely like she's experiencing it for the first time.

She leans in and kisses his ear, revels in the shivers that shake through his body when she tightens her grip. They're teetering over the edge, now- drawing to a close. But even so, she knows it won't be the end. Not when she's right where she's supposed to be.

Like the phantoms of quivering tree limbs, the warmth of the sand beneath her body, the flash of a blade while rubies danced in her vision she feels him. Feels him in every pore, every beat of her heart as he meets her eyes and opens his mouth to speak. Soft and full of promises they never knew were made that day on the beach.

“Nin anor,”

[bitingdrivers]

👔 2 times max saw daniel without his suit (a very loose definition of the word ‘without’) and one time daniel saw max in one. bones au, maxiel, 1.4k words. also, there's a smallest vaguest mention of death and viscera, be prepared!

1

Max makes his way through the floor, passing agents who are going home after a long day. Without people the floor looks empty yet cluttered at the same time – dozens of identical desks covered in papers, files, and dirty mugs. 

The office is dark when Max finally reaches its glass doors, an old lamp painting the room with orange light. 

Daniel is sitting at his desk. His suit jacket is draped over his chair, the shoulder holsters are a stark contrast to his white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

He is drinking. The whiskey looks like amber in the warm light of the lamp. 

“Daniel,” Max says as he enters the office. “Are you okay?” He tentatively moves further into the room. 

Daniel looks up at him and breathes out “Yeah. It's just...harder. When it's a kid.” His voice is hoarse. 

Max nods before sitting down in the chair opposite him. “Yes, I understand–” 

“No, it's-” Daniel groans, rubbing his face. “I have a niece and a nephew. They are close to the age the victim was. It was just…hard. Seeing his skeleton. So small.” His voice is barely a whisper at the end.

Max didn't know Daniel had a niece or a nephew, but he supposes it's normal. Maybe he would be an uncle too, if he still talked to his sister. If he knew where she even was. 

He looks out the window. It's so quiet he can hear the sounds of the street below.

“I-I was at Waco. Branch Davidian compound. I helped identify children who had been killed in the fire. 17 of them,” Max says watching headlights pass by like shooting stars.

“Are you saying you get used to it?” Daniel says. His knuckles are white from gripping the empty glass.

Daniel’s collar is unbuttoned, his tie a little loose. Max looks back out the window. 

“No. I'm saying you'll never get used to it.”

The reflection of the lamplight in Daniel's eyes looks like the stars as well.

2

“How long will this take?” Daniel is sitting on the table in the bone room. His suit is covered in pieces of flesh, cartilage, and bone. 

“As long as it takes to remove all the evidence.” Max helps him remove the jacket and puts it in an evidence bag. 

Daniel moves to start unbuttoning his shirt, but Max stops him. “Don't touch anything, Daniel! You might compromise the evidence.” Max loosens and takes off Daniel's tie. It has honey badgers printed on it. It's not completely ruined by the viscera, so Max hopes Daniel will get it back. 

“So. Uh. Do you think it was suicide? The guy tries to rob the bank, but it doesn't work. He blows himself up to escape the jail?” Max can see Daniel's throat bobbing as he unbuttons his shirt. 

“Carlos said the bomb was triggered via two-way radio. He probably had an accomplice,” Max says as he takes off Daniel's shirt. “Maybe we can track the sig–Oh.”

“Wh-what? Is there goop on me?” Daniel jumps off the table and swivels his head around to check his back. 

“No, no. It's just, I didn't know you have more tattoos,” Max is used to seeing the three on his pinky and the rose on his thumb, and sometimes he catches a glimpse of “free,” “love,” or the cupid inked on his forearms. Now Max sees Daniel's tanned and muscled torso, his smooth chest and, more importantly, his tattoos.

“Oh. Yeah, I had a lot of fun in my youth.” He looks at the astronaut on his left shoulder with a fond smile. 

“You say it like you're an old man,” Max chuckles and drops to his knees. He is about to undo the belt when Daniel jerks back. 

“Woah–uh. Wha-what are you doing?” Daniel stammers, looking down at Max. His eyes are big.

“There's more evidence on your pants. I of course need to remove them too,” Max explains. Daniel pauses, looking into Max’s eyes. Then he nods and looks away. 

Max quickly makes work of Daniel's belt and the pants fall down. There are more tattoos – colorful and big – wrapping around his thigh. 

Max wants to ask more about them when he looks up and. “Daniel. What?” 

“Huh?” Daniel looks down at him. Max can see the tensed muscles of his thighs. Daniel's knuckles are white from gripping the edge of the table. 

“Why do you have… Bring pink?”

Daniel looks at his boxers. Then he exhales and his face relaxes. “Oh. Yeah. These are my… favorites. Don't like to be boring, you know?”

Max is glad to see Daniel’s big smile is back. “You remind me of this bird–” Max tugs at the pants pooled at Daniel’s ankles so he can step out of them, “���Cinnyricinclus leucogaster.”

Daniel makes a confused noise.

Max stands up and moves to put away the pants. “Violet-backed starling. The males have this bright violet plumage to attract mates.”

“Hah, yeah. I'm all about attracting mates.”

When Max turns around, Daniel is looking right at him. 

+1

The building is mostly empty as Daniel makes his way to the lab. This case was not the easiest one, so he is glad that it's finally over. He spent the last few hours going through all the paperwork to make sure the guy will be locked in prison for the next 15 years. 

It has become their tradition to go for a drink after closing a case and Daniel is excited to get himself a beer and listen to Max explaining to him the details of this case as if Daniel is hearing about them for the first time. 

Daniel is just rounding the corner to the glass doors of the lab when he notices Charles talking to someone. Daniel can only see the back of the man – his broad shoulders hugged tightly by a black suit jacket and long legs clad in matching trousers. The man is nodding to Charles’ words when Charles notices Daniel and says hi to him. 

The man turns around and – it's Max. His hair is gelled back, the crisp white shirt is unbuttoned in the collar. Daniel can see the hollow of his throat.

Daniel has never seen Max in a full suit before. In the lab he usually wears a pair of tight jeans and his blue lab coat paired with a basic t-shirt underneath. And outside of the lab he just swaps the coat for a black bomber jacket.

The one time Max had to testify in court, he simply put on a blue shirt that Charles produced seemingly out of thin air. Daniel thought he looked good in blue and even told Max that. Max thanked him and then said that an attorney told him once he should always wear blue when testifying because it disposes the jury from his, apparently, “cold and unpleasant personality.” Daniel hopes this attorney loses every case she gets. 

“Hello Daniel.” Max’s voice brings him out of his thoughts, and Daniel notices an expensive-looking watch on Max’s wrist when he lifts his hand in a little wave. 

“Bones! You look smart tonight.” Daniel tears his eyes away from the way Max’s jacket hugs his waist.

“I thought I always look smart?” Max asks, tilting his head. 

“No-uh. I mean yes. It's just a figure of speech. Means you look good.” Daniel has to loosen his tie a little bit. Maybe they already turned off the building's air-conditioning for the night. Probably so, Max looks a little flushed too. “Should we go somewhere fancy instead of the Founding Fathers then?”  

“Oh. I am sorry Daniel, I can't go with you tonight. There's a party with the university's sponsors and Lewis made us all go,” Max says, looking something between annoyed and sad. 

“Yeah, he threatened us with taking away our parking spots. Very authoritarian of him,” Charles huffs, rolling his eyes.

Now that Daniel is looking, Charles is also dressed in a suit.

“Oh. That's fine, I can survive one night without a glass of beer. Probably better for my liver, right?” Daniel chuckles and rubs his neck as Max furrows his brows. 

Daniel opens his mouth to say something else, although he's not sure what exactly, but Lewis’ voice interrupts him. 

“Alright, everyone ready? The car will be there in 5, we should move.” He claps his hands and moves towards the exit. 

“Have fun tonight, Bones,” Daniel smiles at Max, takes one final look at his suit and turns away. 

He will still go to the bar, but now he won't be listening to Max’s chatter and he definitely will be drinking something stronger than beer.

[melancholyswayafterdark]

hi! Im the anon that you just responded to hehe, so i have an idea!

so 2007 raphael comes home from doing his nightwatcher duty, hes kinda exhausted but its better when he comes home to you <3 You offer to give him some shoulder massages and it turns into a heated make out session which leads to... you know~

anyway, its just an idea! Hope you have a great night/day <3

we are so back. lmk if yall want a part 2~ I KNOW 2007 RAPH HATES TO SEE ME COMING FR-

NOTE: this is my after dark blog, and you're going to find smut here. 2007 is a more mature version of the turtles, and they are around their early/mid 20s. MINORS DNI. CONTAINS : Giving/Receiving head

TMNT 2007!Raphael x Reader: Unwind (NSFW 18+)

Imagine Raphael paying you a visit after a night out being the Nightwatcher.

He’s exhausted and wants to see you- and could use a relaxing shower.

He wonders if you’re awake- he looks at the night sky; it had to be past midnight by now. Maybe 2 AM?

But, who was he kidding? You were always awake; waiting for him, wanting him. 

That particular thought made a heat rise in between his thighs, and he looked in the direction of your apartment. 

The most sinful thoughts run through his mind, and he can’t help but reminisce about the last time you were both intimate. How you screamed his name and pleasured him in ways he couldn’t by himself. How good your tight pussy felt around his throbbing cock. Oh yeah, he needed you right now. 

So when he calls you and says he’s coming over, you hop out of bed and head over to the bathroom to set it up for him like you always do

A fresh towel, a washcloth, the whole nine. 

By the time Raphael arrives, his Nightwatcher helmet is off, revealing the face you’ve come to love. He’s sweating, and panting, yet still has the strength to sweep you off your feet and kiss you as a greeting.

It’s the same routine you and the red terrapin have become accustomed to. You wait until he gets out of the shower, you make out, and then he fucks your brains out.

Just the way you liked it.

However this time, Raphael appears to be more fatigued than he usually is. Normally, he comes over and he’s ready to get to work, but right now, as he comes out of the steaming shower, his muscles are sore.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask, watching as Raphael tries to get the knots out of the sides of his neck. He could really, really use a massage right now.

“Uh, yeah, I’m good.” He replies, but you know him all too well. 

You motion for him to come to you, and he obliges. However, instead of going in for a kiss like you usually do, you place your hands on his shoulders and place some pressure on those spots that seem to be bothering him the most. 

=~*~*~=

“Not that I’m complainin’, but what are ya doin'?” The turtle’s golden eyes look into yours as he turns his head to face you. Smiling while sitting behind him, you kiss his cheek.

“I figured you needed a massage. It looks like those muscles need some TLC.” You knew more than anyone that Raphael put much effort into being The Nightwatcher. It meant being able to put in 100% effort every time he put his suit on. With Leonardo currently training abroad, Raphael became accustomed to sneaking out and playing vigilante. It was rewarding, more so now since he gets to see you every night. You took care of him, in more ways than one.

“Ya always know what I need, dontcha princess?” You could hear the playfulness in Raphael’s gruff voice, and that alone started to get you going. If his tone wasn’t enough, him calling you princess was. Raphael viewed you like a goddess, and he placed you so high on a pedestal that he made it a rule for himself to treat you like one. You weren’t just some fuck buddy, you were his, and that’s how he liked it.

“Don’t start,” you nudge him softly, warning the smug turtle not to go there yet; you wanted to finish massaging his perfectly sculpted muscles. 

You had begun to hit all the right spots that were bothering him, and Raphael couldn’t be more appreciative of you than right now. He wondered what he could do to repay you.

Raphael turns his head to you, and he thinks about all the ways he could satisfy you. By this point, you had both come to understand how each other’s bodies worked; what you liked and what you didn’t like. Raphael knew what spots to hit, what places to bite, and what places to suck. 

He watches you hungrily, watching how your pretty face seems fixated on his body, yet you don’t seem to notice how his amber eyes stick to you like glue. He smirked at how oblivious you were at this moment. 

 He thought about- oh! How fun it was last time to eat you out. He wanted to do that again. Or how about that time he came in your mouth just from head? Or even when- you know what? Fuck it. Raphael couldn’t take it anymore. His sexual urges were beginning to take over, and he was ready to devour you like his prey.

“Princess,” He had enough.

“Hmm?” You hum absentmindedly in response. Looking up at him, you could tell what was coming next. The gaze he was giving you, how his voice became gruff and hoarse. Oh, he was ready; and so were you. 

“C’mere-” Grabbing you by your waist, Raphael maneuvers you to where you’re straddling his lap, making sure you can feel the erection against your exposed thigh from your shorts. Getting on top, you wrap your arms around the turtle’s neck, going in for the first kiss. This one would set the tone for the rest of the night. When the first kiss is gentle, Raphael lets you take the lead (which wasn’t often). If the kiss is anything but, he’s usually the one who makes you his and gets you begging for him. You were about to find out how the night would play out. 

“Mmm,” You giggle softly into the kiss, feeling as Raph pulls you closer and places a hand on your neck, placing pressure on the opposite ends of it with two out of three fingers. If that didn’t indicate how the rest of the moment would play out, the way he crashed his lips onto yours and beat you to the punch sure did. His tongue explored your mouth, looking for its partner in crime to dance with. Once your tongues connected, they began battling it out for dominance. Who would reign on top?

Spoiler: it’s Raphael. 

You couldn’t predict him giving your ass a tight squeeze which caused you to moan and put your guard down. Smirking into the kiss, Raphael begins tugging at your shorts, requesting-- no -- demanding that they come off immediately.

When you don’t comply and decide to tease him by slowly reaching for the hem, he takes matters into his own hands.

“Raph!” You roll your eyes at the terrapin, watching as your torn bottoms hit the floor. You felt the air hit your rear as it was now exposed- only a red pair of panties covering you now. “Those were my favorite shorts.”

It seemed this comment didn’t phase Raphael- his fingers found their way toward your waistline and soon your thighs to feel the heat pooling between them. He rubbed his fingers in a circular motion on your sex, feeling your clit swell with excitement for what was about to happen. Raphael’s mind was running wild, he wondered how quickly he could make you cum from just his tongue alone. However, you had other plans. You peel your black tee from your body, feeling the sweat accumulating from the heated moment get wicked away from your skin. You had planned this very moment- and suddenly, Raphael’s attention was on your red bra. You smiled as you got down from straddling his waist on the bed, standing confidently in your own skin as your lover stared you up and down. From head to toe, top to bottom, Raphael loved it when you wore his favorite color. 

He couldn’t wait to devour you.

You watch as his hands wrap around you to unclip the article of clothing from your body, not caring where he threw it once it became undone. He picks you up, plopping you down on the bed. Raphael was ready to eat. Getting on his knees in front of you, he puts his hands together, jokingly thanking you for the meal. He starts with spreading your legs, getting a fantastic view of his feast. He sucks on your clit, watching as you immediately twitch in excitement in response to his mouth on your sex. His wide tongue flicking and sucking in all the right places. Your thighs grip both sides of Raph’s head, making sure his face isn’t going anywhere but in your dripping cunt. As your legs shake from sensitivity, your mutant boyfriend teases you by placing a thick finger by your entrance, ready to prepare you for the real thing. Making sure you really want this, Raph’s face comes from between your legs, looking at your half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks for confirmation to continue. You whine in annoyance, locking your eyes with Raph. His golden eyes look up at you from your sex, juices from your entrance all over his lips. Quickly wiping his mouth, he takes a breath before diving back in after your head nod of approval. 

“Please,” You manage to breathe out, lustful eyes staring hungrily at the red-banded turtle in front of you. You could almost taste the moan about to erupt from your throat as Raph teased your slippery entrance with his index. The way he had you right where he wanted you seemed to arouse him even more. 

“More,” He flicks his finger, going a mere 2 centimeters inside before retreating outside; the tip of his digit glistening from your arousal. “Beg fa me.” Oh, Raph knew just how to get you under his spell. He’s watching your facial expressions and furrowed brows, trying to focus on your climax, and it seemed to quicken when he asked you to beg. 

“Ya want it?” He teases, removing his finger completely. “Yes,” You moan. However, the smirk on Raph’s face tells you that you’re going to have to do more than just say a simple yes. 

“Not good enough,” The hothead comments, “Try again.” His head lifts from your thighs and moves to your neck, teeth grabbing onto your warm skin softly. He knows exactly which place gets you going, and when he gets there, you can’t help but let out a moan of satisfaction. 

“P-please, Raph,” You strain, the feeling of Raph suckling on your skin almost sending you into overdrive. “I want it.” 

However, the turtle doesn’t stop, and his thumb somehow finds your enlarged clit, flicking it every which way at a speed that would get you to finish in an instant. You grip his shoulders, throwing your head back until Raph pushes your back onto the bed. He lifts your left leg up, licking his lips to reminisce about just how sweet you tasted. He wanted to go back for seconds. 

Your mind began imagining the most sinful thoughts you could even imagine. What didn’t help was that Raph’s finger suddenly went inside you, causing your sex to stretch out from how big his finger was. Your body jolts from surprise, causing a moan to escape from your lips. You tightened around the turtle’s finger, feeling his “come here” motion that only brushed over your G-spot. 

As the turtle in red did this, you noticed the large bulge from the side of his plastron by his muscular thighs. Now, Raph knew he had a big cock. He was quite smug about it. The only part that made him anxious was putting it inside you. He didn’t want to hurt you from his size. 

Suddenly, you had an idea, and your mouth seemed to water from the thought of Raph’s green member inside it. 

“W-wait,” Your hands placed on his plastron, and Raph looks up immediately with a concerned look on his face. 

“Sorry, did I hurt ya?” He asks. It’s quite comical how Raph’s tone can switch. He was just eating you out, having you at his mercy, and now he’s back to big teddy bear Raph. 

“No…just…” You sit up, your hair now messy from the sexual activity. Loose strands sticking to your face from the sweat littering your skin. Skin warm to the touch and mouth slightly open to regulate your breathing. You were a beautiful mess. You watch Raph’s hungry eyes, seemingly fucking you with his gaze alone. 

“Lay down.” You command with a silvery voice. Raphael, unsure of what you were doing complies. Did you want to cuddle? Were you tired? Did you need a second to breathe? He was unsure. 

He’s still unsure as he hits the pillow with his cranium, your bed’s headboard moving slightly. His point of view encapsulates his obvious boner, and you are off to the side of him, looking up with your innocent doe eyes. Your hand caresses the “issue” between his legs, feeling how big it is, and how it twitches in response. Raph’s face is stunning. Beads of sweat on his forehead and his throaty voice scrambling for words to say as you move his plastron to the side. In an instant, Raph’s member springs out, precum dripping from the tip. His emerald member stands tall and hard, with deep green veins going down from the base to the head.

You eye his sex, almost drooling from how nice it looked with the moon’s light seeping through your window. Your thumb circles Raph’s tip, watching as more precum emerges and a deep sigh erupts from Raph’s throat. “Are…are ya sure?” The red-clad turtle asks in a smoky voice. 

You silently nod, determined to take him in your mouth. Albeit a little overwhelming from his size, but, your sexual urges would overcome this. You grab Raph at his base, wrapping your hand around him. Your head dipping into his lap and mouth gaping to welcome his dick in your warm cavern. Your mouth becomes a little stretched and tears emerge from the inner corner of both your half-opened eyes. Moaning in satisfaction, you ball your fists to remove any gag reflex. As you go deeper, Raph’s throaty voice groans in delight, and you feel his hand grab a fistful of your hair to hold onto. 

“Princess…ya…yer doin' it so good,” Raph could die right now and be satisfied. His point of view now watching as your swollen moist lips seem to kiss and engulf more than half of his full size. “Keep goin’, jus like dat.” Raph’s amber eyes watched as you looked up with your e/c ones, seeing as your tear-stained cheeks flushed from testing your limits with his girth. He tests the waters a bit, and he gently guides your head to go at a steady pace, bobbing up and down his shaft. 

Now, Raph isn’t known to moan. He tries to hide them by covering his mouth or biting his lip if he has to. But, he knew you liked his noise. His deep moans were music to your little ears. 

As you hummed and the vibrations went down to his base, you caressed his balls before pulling your lips away from his wet tip, a string of saliva connecting you to it. 

“Mmm, come on, Raph,” You tease, leaning towards him and planting a kiss on his neck. “Let me take care of you.” Your hand makes its way from the sack back to the shaft, slightly squeezing as you stroke up and down. 

“F-fuck, Y/n…ya gonna make me cum like this.” You can see Raph’s eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure, his heightened sense of smell taking in the aroma of your sweet sultry scent. Your mouth takes in half of Raph’s member, the lower half being stroked by your hand. You were putting in the work needed to satisfy this turtle, and he was so appreciative of you. Your hair still balled in his fist, you could feel his member begin to twitch after some time. He loved the feeling of you choking on him, and he couldn’t help but move your head down a little after each stroke and penetration into your mouth, feeling your tongue lick around his head in the process. There were just so many sensations going on for him, that Raph’s breath began to get uneven; the volume of his groans increased to an astronomical level. Raphael wasn’t a quiet lover, no, he wanted everyone to know what was going on. 

“Y/n,” Raph managed to moan your name, to which you continued sucking and deepthroating, his noises fueling your desire to make him cum. Raph watched as his dick was covered in your saliva, the hand wrapped around his base squelching as it stroked up and down in sync with your mouth on his top half. It was just so much that…

“F…fuck! I’m…” You were maxing out your speed, ignoring your sore mouth and cramped hand for the satisfaction of Raph crumbling from your touch. He was under your spell; and you knew it, too.

‘He’s gonna cum’ Your lips curl into a smile as they continuously go along his long shaft. Soon enough, you switch up your approach for the final stretch. You remove your hand from Raph’s sex, taking in his whole member as tears prick the ends of your eyes. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, and the feeling alone caused you to clamp your thighs together, feeling as your own arousal dripped onto the sheets. 

“Y-yer so…fuckin’ good…fuck,” Raph swore like a sailor every time you were intimate. The more he swore, the closer he was to finishing. However, before he can finish, he gets an idea in that clouded head of his. 

“Get up.” He says. You comply, and he guides you to the floor as you get on your knees, his form towering over you. Looking up at him with lustful eyes, he knew this was what he wanted to see as he came. You could only see his plastron and his bulging muscles, his member poking your cheek. Guiding it to your mouth, his hand grabbing your hair. He looks at you for approval, to which your soft voice sends him over the edge. 

‘Mm…use me, Raph,” You knew exactly what you were doing to him, didn’t you? Those words were music to his ears. When you felt his grip on your hair tighten and he held your head, you knew you were in for a wild ride. 

Bucking his hips forward, he thrust into your mouth. Your hands gripped his thighs for support, feeling his tip once again knocking on your throat’s door as if it could be invited in to go any deeper. 

“Ya like that, don’t ya?” Raph’s throaty voice teases you. Your watery eyes look up at his golden ones, your nod and vibrations on his cock indicating just how satisfied you were. When you couldn’t take it anymore, one of your hands left his thighs and went down into your own sex. Your fingers spread your pussy and rub your enlarged clit. You moaned on your boyfriend’s dick, his deep groans causing your body to shiver in desire for him to be inside you.

Raphael’s eyes watch as his length disappears in your mouth, only for it to reappear with every thrust. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, the thought of stretching you out giving him just the push he needed to reach his climax. 

“F…fuck, ya gonna make me…fuck!” Raph’s thrusts into your mouth now had an irregular tempo from just a few moments ago. With one final thrust, you felt as if the inside of your throat had been painted with Raph. You could feel ropes of cum shooting and hitting the back of your throat. Your walls seemed to clench with anticipation for what was to come next, and as usual, Raph’s erection inside your mouth didn’t falter, and the grip your lips had on his member didn’t seem to falter, either. Raph’s cum was on the salty side, with subtle hints of sweetness in the aftertaste. Nevertheless, you swallow it all, and as Raph pulls his member from your moist cavern, he watches your tongue stick out, to show him your cum-free mouth; an indicator that he tastes as good as he looks. 

His eyes look at you in satisfaction as his voice materializes from his dry throat, “I love ya. Yer such a good girl,” Raph’s signature smirk dances on his lips as he cups your cheeks, helping you up from the floor as your knees are weak. Your tired mouth mumbles an “I love you, too,” before it collides with his as you both share a sloppy kiss. As you did so, you don’t even notice his hands wrap around your waist to pick you up. You giggled as your legs snaked around him. Once he gets toward the bed, he places you down, the softness of the mattress comforting your lower lumbar. 

He wanted to reward you for doing so well. He knew your facial muscles were exhausted from pleasuring him, that all he wanted to do now was take care of you down there. Raphael’s sex drive is as high as anyone’s can be, and he was ready to go round for round with you. He was ready to have the neighbors know his name from the way you screamed it.

And here, dear readers, the question is posed: Ready for round 2?

[fighting-these-demons]

Your tags are fantastic OP and I'd like to have them on the post proper:

grabs hiei and shows him off, clearly trying not to cry

he just wanted to find his sister! he gave up his strength, he underwent a painful surgery because he wanted to find the place he came from. He was supposed to kill everyone and he killed nobody -kui begs him to kill her and he doesn't. Sure, sometimes he acts like he is unfeeling but he still pities the ice village because they're too ''cold feeling''. Isn't that what the bandits he grew up with thought about him?

he. wanted. to. find. his. sister. even after promising he would not tell her anything, he still looked for her. he didn't want to talk to her, didn't expect nothing from Yukina. Just wanted to find her.

do you get it? If Hiei cared a little less, he would not be in the human world. Hiei fights with team Urameshi because it's his parole because he is a little evil demon???!!!!

NO!!!! Hiei wouldn't even there if he hadn't cared about his sister first

they don't make them like this anymore

[kenziebluex]

The Broken Heart That Makes Us

Happy Friday! Comment to be added to the taglist ☺️

Story Description: 

Your arranged marriage is on its last legs. After making an agreement with your step son, Megumi, you are puzzled when you are faced with finally making a decision.

Your whole life so far has been planned for you, leading you to struggle with the idea of moving on and finding something stable…someone stable.  

Will you finally be able to let go of the life that was made for you? Will there be others out there willing to pick up the pieces?

(18+) Pairings: Toji, Goji, Geto, Nanami, & Choso.

Read on ao3: TBHTMU

Chapter 3:

You turned around and posed in the mirror to get a better look at how the latex stretch black pants hugged your backside and your matching black strapless lace up corset gave you a nice shape. Even though you were only 26, you noticed the difference in how you dressed compared to the other parents that came to pick up their kids from the dojo. 

“Finding the sweet spot between acting like a mom and acting my age is….a task.” You groaned at your reflection, debating whether to find a nice jacket to use as a cover up.

‘Mmm… I am meeting my son’s teacher after all…’  You started to regret your choice of clothing. To be fair, you weren’t sure what Gojo’s intentions were when he invited you out. But dammit when was the last time you actually went out to have fun?! You felt the fruits of your youth slowly spoil as your whole life became just working, stressing and taking care of a 16 year old. 

You decided that you deserved to be daring today and donned a pair of lace up black sandal heels and a contrasting blood red mini purse to throw over your shoulder. 

Before stepping out of your new 3 bedroom condo, you passed by Megumi’s room and took a small peek through his bedroom doorway. You watched as he diligently did his homework while bopping to the music in his headset. You thought to yourself that this is the type of comfort he deserves. Lost in his own world while he chases his dreams. You just hope you’re doing enough to get him there. 

You tapped your phone on to remind yourself of the time as you stepped out of your front door. You rode the elevator down to the lobby and exited the condominium. It was dark and a shadowy figure lingered outside. You wondered if Gojo had arrived and you picked up your pace to exit the lobby.

“Oh great. You saved me so much time knocking on every door.” Your breath hitched and you clutched your purse as the man emerged from the shadows and into the dim lamp post. You eyed the double doors back into the lobby and debated whether you should make a run for it. Instead, you swallowed thickly and erased any emotion on your face.

“Are you y/n Fushiguro?” The man asked. His hair shielded by a black beanie that looks like it transitions to a shiesty and all black clothes. It only took one glance for you to notice that he might be carrying a weapon in his back pocket as you noticed he kept patting for it.

“I don’t go by that name anymore. That means that nothing associated with that name has any business with me.” You explained begging internally the man will just bow out and let you go. A million thoughts bulldozed through your mind, starting with how he found out where you lived in the first place.

“Tsss…look. I know this must be realllly awkward but your ex husband owes us some money and sold your name as collateral. That slippery bastard looks like he’s on the run but you were much easier to find.” You started to see stars. You held onto the wall to prevent yourself from fainting. It became clear to you that whether you were associated with Toji or not didn’t matter because he just sold you out to some loan sharks.

‘In the end, I still can’t escape his bullshit.’

“How much does he owe you?” You bit out clutching your fist. After everything started falling into place, something comes to fuck it all up. 

“Probably around 10 of those condos your pretty little ass just skipped out of.” He laughed lazily. Fury built up in your belly.

“Can you cover it?” He eyes you mockingly and his gaze trailed disgustingly lower.

“Fuck no!” You hissed and attempted to cover yourself. You looked around for anything that could fight him off and any neighbors that could be stumbling by. But before you could call out to someone he approached you and palmed his back packet.

The man yelped as a sleek blue biker helmet collided with the back of his head. He collapsed on the ground, limp and lifeless. You looked up at his attacker.

Exhaling as if he was holding in his breath, Gojo eyed the loan shark’s motionless body. Worry, anxiety and fear exited your body all at once as you felt your legs lose strength. 

Gojo was quick and caught you against his firm hand while you stumbled into his chest. You allowed his gentle hand to calm your nerves as he stroked your head similarly to how he stroked your back yesterday. You attempted to bury yourself in Gojo’s white shirt and black bomber jacket and trying not to get your makeup on it. But he pushed your head in anyway, not caring whether your makeup will leave a stain. 

“Do you want to live with me?” You heard Gojo whisper almost thoughtlessly. Your head fell backwards and your confused expression met his embarrassed one. Almost like he didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

He gently pushed you back and shoved his helmet into your chest. You took the helmet but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his face.

He was red. Beating red. And looked to the side trying to avoid eye contact with you. His eyebrows furrowed almost like he was scolding himself for saying that outloud. You looked down at the helmet in your hands and chuckled inwardly at his cute reaction. 

“Put that on.” He took the helmet back and fastened it on your head.

“A smile a day keeps the therapist away.” He laughed to himself while buckling the safety strap under your chin. He took your hand and mounted his sleek blue Ducati motorcycle and guided you to board behind him. He fastened the extra helmet that hung on the handlebars of his bike on his head and turned the bike on. He paused before doing anything more.

“I won’t ask about the problems you’re going through. But seeing him corner you like that made me want to do more than just knock his lights out.” He twisted his wrist and revved up his motorcycle with a loud growl. 

“I can’t promise that I’ll stop there next time.” He continued. With Gojo, you felt a cloud of safety and protection. You wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed.

“…I’ve never had anyone other than Megumi protect me like that…Thank you.” You weren’t sure if you were loud enough over the rumbling of his bike but he seemed to have heard you and took a deep breath. You felt his back expand and then recede against you as he hauled up his foot on his back. You two disappeared into the darkness. 

✿❀○❀✿

“Shitttt I hope it’s not closed.” Gojo droned as you arrived at a dimly lit skyscraper. He put the stopper on his bike and took your hand to help you dismount. He hung the helmets on the handlebars of the bike.  

While entering the luxurious skyscraper, you advanced towards the entrance while taking in the posh surroundings. The host at the door recognized Gojo immediately and sprinted to take his jacket from him. 

“Welcome back, sir!” The host greeted Gojo formally and you turned towards him marred by confusion.

“Who the hell even are you?!” You spoke with your eyes. He erupted in an amused bellow and he took your waist and pulled you flushed against his side. 

“I didn’t come alone tonight. Show us a good spot.” Gojo ordered casually. You tried to fix your face to copy his nonchalant one but quickly failed when you entered the restaurant- no…specialty cafe as it seems that the restaurant only served expensive desserts.

“Are you sure you should be eating here? You know, since you also have to practice martial arts.” You joked low enough for only Gojo to hear. He clicked his tongue.

“A sweet treat every now and then doesn’t hurt.” Gojo paused and looked down at you. Lustful sky blue eyes bore into yours. “Everyone gives into their urges eventually.” He stated with a deeper meaning attached. 

You felt your cheeks warm but then the host spoke you out of your trance. 

“We always leave the balcony open to the Gojo clan.” The host beamed. You felt Gojo himself tense but when you looked up at him,  his face remained expressionless. 

“Enjoy.” The host bowed and broke away to signal a waiter.

You broke away from Gojo to bathe in the sea of lights in the city as you relaxed against the railing to the balcony. You thought back to the dinner parties your dad had you attend while wooing investors. You internally shivered. 

“If I knew you were a trust fund baby, I would’ve seduced you months ago, Gojo-sensei.” You jested while resting on your elbows. Large pale palms rested on either side of you as Gojo hovered from behind you. You stretched your head back and he peered down at you. 

“Call me Satoru.” He said softly. You shook your head and broke eye contact, directing your gaze forward again. 

“Unlike you, I know boundaries.” You sighed. Without wasting a beat, he gripped your bicep and spun you around to face him. He pinched your chin and forced your gaze to connect with his again.

“It didn’t seem like that when you were holding me nice and tight earlier.” He hovered his face just centimeters above your lips. You gripped his shirt as his body heat flooded your palms. 

“Close your eyes.” He whispered. Your eyes fluttered closed.

“Have you had time to look at our menu?” You and Gojo broke apart in response to the waitress arriving. It didn’t seem like she was aware that she was breaking a moment but the racing of your heart thanked her. 

You approached the table and Gojo pulled out your chair for you to sit. As you looked at the menu, each dessert looked like it would make your wallet cry. 

“P-Please give me a minute.” You laughed nervously as you scrunch your eyebrows to focus. The only thing you can afford here is the water and maybe an espresso shot. 

“There are just soooo many nice things here. I literally can’t decide. ” You spoke through your teeth, clearly feeling pressure over the menu. 

Gojo snapped his menu closed.

“We’ll just go with one of everything.” Gojo answered while you were mentally lashing out at him.

You closed the menu and gave the waitress a strained but polite smile while she took the menus. 

“I say I’m taking you out and you are still eyeballing the price.” Gojo scoffs while taking a sip of the water left on the table.

“I never trust a man who says he’ll foot the bill. I’d rather at least order something I can afford.” Toji absolutely killed that idea for you and you haven’t trusted a man for funds since. You crossed your arms and sat back comfortably on your chair. The wispy light from the candle reflected on Gojo’s cheek and made his glassy eyes contrast the dark sky behind him. 

“Fair enough.” He tilted his head voicing his response and took another sip of water. You traced your finger on the mouth of the tall glass of water standing next to you. You couldn’t help but focus on his lips as they touched his glass. The way his tongue wets his lips sends your mind into a spiral. He notices you gawking and a small chuckle escapes his lips. You rolled your eyes to the side innocently and struck up conversation.

“So other than training students at the dojo, what else do you do?” You huffed, swiftly pulling your own water glass to your lips. The relaxed grin on his face fell. You felt the atmosphere shift a little.

“You said it yourself didn’t you? I’m a ‘trust fund baby.’ Beloved son of one of the number 1 richest clans in the city.” He responded with heavy sarcasm.  You drew your lips together tightly. You gathered that family was a triggering subject. Well, it’s not like you are daughter to father of the year either. But even though Gojo seems to wear his heart on his sleeve, it seems that it’s just armor to hide his true feelings. 

“Eh. I don‘t know. Blood relatives suck sometimes.” You snapped back. Your elbows rested on the table and your chin fell comfortably onto your palms. For a second you saw Gojo’s eyes go wide, lost looking at you but he then quickly regained his composure.

“I’d rather form my own family. Like me and Meg. There’s something about loving someone and them loving you back just because of the person you are and not because you’re related.” You continued. Gojo lowered his glass and listened to you intently. You smiled down at the fire that danced on the candle and allowed one of your hands to rest on the table. 

“I’ve seen family members treat their own children like pawns and burdens to be neglected…” Gojo flinched at your statement and his hand rested on the table as well. You rested your palm on top of his and gazed at him softly.

“But blood doesn’t make it an obligation to love people like that.” Gojo intertwined his fingers in yours and scanned you curiously. He gently rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand.

“Hmmm? You sound like you had a tough love life.” He mocked and you choked out your water. You rolled your eyes as the tone of the date returned to being playful. 

“Don’t mind me. I’m just thinking out loud.” You retook your hand and folded it into your lap. Gojo pouted at the lack of touch. 

“Here you are! We pulled up another table to make room for all of the other desserts. Is there any flavor you would like to try first?” The waitress accompanied by 2 assistants rolled in the entire catalog of sweets. Gojo shook his head.

“We’ll figure it out.” He stood up and started making room for various desserts on the table. One particular dessert caught your eye.

“Hey. Pass me the (insert flavor) parfait.” You pointed at the neatly decorated yogurt. Gojo picked it up and inspected it curiously. He stalked to the other side of the table and knelt down to your level. Taking the long spoon out the dish, he lathered some whip cream on top of it. 

“Open wide~.” He cooed while floating the spoon towards your lips. Your brows twisted and you leaned your head back in rejection.

“You’re fucking joking.” You answered dryly. Gojo shrugged and turned the spoon towards himself and prepared to take a bite. 

“Hey-!” Your mouth hung open in protest and Gojo used the opportunity to sneak the spoon into your mouth. The parfait was heavenly and the flavors melted the tension in your body. You finished enjoying the taste and you took another glance at a satisfied Gojo, unsure whether to protest some more or to let him continue. 

You felt a hand rake the back of your head as Gojo’s lips advanced towards yours. However, he teased you and instead tongued the corner of your lip where whipped cream was left. You froze in your chair.

“Damn good. Should I eat the rest of the desserts like this?” Gojo taunted and then traced his tongue on your bottom lip.

 A pleased sigh fell from your lips as your tongue met his, battling for dominance. Your lips touched and it felt like electricity ignited throughout your body. You closed your eyes to soak up his taste and you heard him place the parfait glass and spoon on the table.  

With free hands, Gojo gripped both your thighs and glided them up and down your legs, barely ghosting your core with his thumbs. He pressed his lips against you punishingly and parted your legs to situate himself in between them.

You gripped his shirt to prevent yourself from falling backwards. One hand dragged up your body and he teased your hardened nipple under your black corset. Gojo released your lips and then proceeded to leave trails of kisses down your neck.

He moved his hand from your chest to your clothed cunt and pressured his grip against it. You bit your bottom lip.

“Gojo…the waiters could come in.” You panted trying to keep your fevered voice as low as possible. He smirked against your collarbone as his teeth grazed your shoulder.

“I’m not doing anything wrong. Just enjoying dessert.” He quipped while peppering more kisses up your neck and started massaging you gently. You felt yourself becoming soaked in his clutch. Your thighs closed around his wrist. You cupped his chin and turned him up to face you.

“You’re really not funny.” You whispered while he looked up at you with fire pooling his irises. He released you and shoved his hands in his pockets to shuffle his way back into his seat. You shifted your knees back under the table while trying to regain your composure. 

Gojo took a small dish of elegantly dressed mochi and took a bite while holding contact with you. He allowed two fingers to linger in his mouth while he licked off the flavor. He slowly sucked the flavor off of the long digits and then reached for another piece. 

You tried to avoid eye contact while you took another spoonful of parfait. The rest of the evening was quiet but the haze of desire still remained.

taglist: @beetusbritt ❤ @nousija ❤ @notleclerc divider by @cafekitsune

❀ follow for more ❀ ao3: kenzieblue❀

-kenzie & des

[starryeyedstray]

it's christmas eve and it's been ages since hank has gifted anyone anything, but hank decides connor deserves at least one present for his very first christmas. here's the ao3 link if you prefer reading there <3

Connor opens the box and inside is a black tie embossed with a triangle tessellation pattern. It's simple but would match his jacket perfectly. He studies the tie closely and his LED switches from blue to yellow. 

“I’ve, uh, saw that you must have lost your tie at some point. And you always seem a bit frustrated when you try to straighten it and it’s not there. So I, uh, figured a tie might be good,” Hank rambles because Connor is just staring at the tie in silence and his LED is yellow and spinning and Hank thinks maybe Connor hates it. He’s never been a good gift giver and it’s been years since he’s given one so maybe this was all a mistake. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it.” 

Connor’s head snaps up. “No, I like it. It’s just…” And he stares down at it thinking again. 

“What is it? C’mon, you won’t hurt my feelings if you say you don’t like it.” 

“No, it’s just ever since the night I infiltrated Cyberlife Tower, I haven’t worn a tie. I wasn’t adhering to Cyberlife’s dress code they programmed into me. It felt like I was making my own choice. But you’re right, Hank. I find myself reaching up to fix my tie even when it’s not there. And I wonder if maybe I’m still stuck in my programming. Like I can’t escape Cyberlife’s design.” 

Hank watches Connor stare at the tie a bit longer his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Hank narrows his eyes as he contemplates what Connor said. “You think you’re still stuck in Cyberlife’s programming because you want to wear a tie.” 

“Correct.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Connor,” Hank says with a bit of exasperation. “It’s just a tie! It doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be a fucking symbol of non-deviancy or whatever; it can just be a tie. Just because Cyberlife told you to wear a tie and you happen to like wearing one, doesn’t mean you’re not alive. You can wear the tie because you like it not because Cyberlife told you too.” 

“But what if I only like it because Cyberlife programmed me that way?” 

“Then fucking throw it away. Or wear it for special occasions. Or never wear a tie again if you really think that will give you peace of mind. I don’t know. You don’t have to overthink every little thing you do, kid. It’s okay to stick to what’s comfortable especially when you’re facing a lot of new things. The fact that you want to wear a tie says enough about your deviancy. You’ve said it yourself before, machines don’t want things.” 

Connor stares at Hank as he internalizes his words. He did like wearing ties and appearing professional and tidy. He knows Cyberlife programmed him that way, but maybe Hank’s right and that’s okay. Maybe he didn’t have to change everything about himself right away. Maybe that didn’t mean he was any less alive. 

One side of Connor’s mouth twitches up into that half smile he always does because he hasn’t really learned how to smile fully and genuinely quite yet. His LED is blue again. Hank can’t help but grin as Connor removes the tie from its box. “Thank you, Hank. I really like it.” 

Connor lifts his collar up and wraps the tie around his neck, but Hank stands. “Come here, I’ll tie it for you.” 

“I know how to tie a tie, Hank.” 

“Just let me do it for you,” Hank insists walking to Connor’s side of the table. 

Connor obliges and stands so Hank doesn’t have to crouch down. Hank couldn’t remember the last time he had tied a tie, but he remembers his dad showing him how to tie a full Windsor knot and he does the same wordlessly. Connor watches Hank, and there’s a softness to his weathered face. A ghost of a smile on his lips. Connor wonders if Hank is thinking of Cole and how he never got to teach him how to tie a tie. It makes Connor wish he didn’t know how so Hank could teach him.  

Hank finishes and pats both hands on Connor’s shoulders. “All done, son.” And then Hank freezes because he realizes that he just called Connor son and he doesn’t know how to take it back and he’s not sure he wants to. 

But Connor pretends like he doesn’t notice though now he’s certain that Hank is thinking of Cole. “Thanks, Hank.” He straightens the tie not because Hank tied it crooked, but because it’s a habit and Connor finds something comforting in the action. He smooths the tie against his chest saying, “Now, I just need to buy myself a new tie clip.” 

“Hang on, I think I have one you can use,” Hank states and he almost ends the sentence with “son,” but stops himself as he quickly goes into his bedroom.  

Connor looks down at his new tie and he wonders what it would be like to be Hank’s son. But he pushes that thought away because he doesn’t want to be a replacement. Plus, androids didn’t have families.

Or at least, he didn’t think it was possible, but his thoughts drift to Kara and Markus. Kara acts like a mother to Alice, and Markus considers Carl his father. Did that mean that they were family? Could a family transcend beyond the bonds of humans and extend to deviants? Perhaps, androids didn’t have families, but maybe deviants could. 

Maybe Connor could.

happy holidays everyone~! this little piece is for the island winter wonderland event ran by @island-of-misfit-deviants which is the dbh discord server i'm in. we're all very welcoming so feel free to join us!!!!

[the-witch-of-woods-beyond]

how to train your dragon is the best franchise ever in history.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

your fridge-build , original-red-and-purple-oufit magneto showed up in my dream yesterday and i was so unprepared it woke me up

reading this made me cackle for like a solid minute gjAELKGJAK he just wanted to say hi ....

leaving you with a fridge-magnet-sized magneto. so hopefully he can say hi again but less intimidatingly

[ganondoodle]

(idk if anyone wants to keep hearing my opinions on totk book stuff but-)

apparently it says that rauru DID have kids, multiple even, which yeah... is kinda necessary for zelda to even be connected to them so much so that sonia can SENSE a blood connection (which, even with all the excuses with magic, is just a little too far for me to suspend my disbelief bc its over, OVER, ten thousand years worth of generations that seperate her from them that one lil touch of the hand can sense that (feels more like an attempt to make you care about them or .. see them as zeldas "better" parents just bc they exchange a few nice words, i never got the feeling they were 'better' parents and its also kinda disrespectful to her actual parents, like sure rhoam wasnt the best but i wouldnt call rauru better just bc he was polite)- i could see maybe the light power of hylia or sth but since its the coolest dude that ever lived rauru now that had it which still doesnt make sense and makes me unreasonably annoyed and she can sense BOTH of their powers in her? nah) the fact theres NOTHING about them in the game itself is just so ... no way they planned any of this

i dont think theres anything they can do or say that wont make be believe they either

are making it up alla 'fix it in post' mentality trying to hastily explain stuff the game never bothers to do to try and appease fans or let it appear as if they thought about it at all

something went really REALLY wrong during development, which kinda seems likely given how the game turned out (im sorry i cannot let go, its not just the writing, the game design too and how little was changed in the map while being so damn expensive, i dont know how people dont feel scammed q_q)

given that they (allegedly) spent the last entire year of development on polish (where??? where????? huh??? like it would make it more understandable (EXCEPT for the price) if there was alot of trouble, which was also bc it got delayed and ... turned out like this, but they dont want to say it, especially given their reputation, with that quote i have heard way too many times 'a delayed game blah blah') i just??

are they just gonna go and do it like they did with kashiwa (kass)? "they uuuh where flying around the whole time ony cool sonau tech maschines, you just dont see or hear from them ooooorrr they were uuuuh out of the country at the time" (sending invitations to other continents to join their glorious kingdom ;) )

(bet they are also gonna say they did all the stuff like ... moving the shrines around (lol?) and lifting the islands up into the sky- which is still weird bc ... didnt they also say they were living in the sky before coming to the surface?? so where?? did they park all their islands on the surface and the mystery kids had the keys so they had to repark them back into the sky after they returned off camera?? xD also why are the islands so different as an environment if they where from the surface? like even the STONE up there is different- and if they were first in the sky then on the surface and the nback in the sky .. why is there not a single yellow tree or grass in the past- you cant really argue that it changed bc they were up there so long bc .. nothing else changed, the suddendly and totally always there sonau buildings are largely in prime condition, only some slightly moldy, and what we see of the glorious past looks barely any different from the present, aside from like ... some standard trees shuffled, no castle yet and that glowy uwu filter DESPITE that stupidly long time frame between it)

[faunandfloraas]

It is kinda funny seeing people talk about Seungmin lately because he definitely has gotten more bold and confident for sure. He's also just getting opportunities to be perceived as an individual on his own as well for the first time in a while but it's still jarring to see people be like Aw he was always such a quiet goodie two shoes little nerd and it's like...... he was the one to leave and seek out his own vocal coach and blatantly talk about it, which of course lead to I.N and Lee Know also doing the same, he was the one to go on bubble and tell off sasaengs who used to camp outside their old dorm for invading members privacy but also because it effected other residents and staff at the complex, something that i'm certain upper management wouldnt have been happy about, and he wasn't curt or nice about it either. like he's never actually been a wallflower, he's always had a pretty strong backbone and seems to stick to his principals, its not really new.

[s0fter-sin]

i need a fic of soap bringing ghost home to his family for the holidays. his family’s always disapproved of everything; being queer, being in the military, being with ghost and it’s all over not a great time but they’re trying to pretend for the sake of the holiday. they get into it after dinner one night though and for once soap isn’t backing down, not when it’s ghost they’re attacking, when the power suddenly goes out. soap moves just in time for a shot to come through the window and he orders his family to get down

graves and what’s left of shadow company followed them to glasgow; it’s the first time they’ve been away from the 141 and they think it’ll be their best chance to take them out. johnny and simon are left behind as they become soap and ghost and soap’s childhood home becomes a battleground, his hysterical family who still think he can’t be that good of a soldier now civilians that he has to protect and get out in one piece

[spaghett-onaplate]

depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed

[fisheito]

You know who you remind me of? Helga Pataki.

Please tell me you (or somebody else) gets the reference 😂

anon u turned my world to static with that namedrop

on the list of things i did NOT expect to happen ,because hUH??: someone dragging [hey arnold] into my tiny nuca inbox