#what can i say? i have always loved big beefy guys who are gentle at heart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whaledenwtf · 10 months

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Astarion x Reader - In the Candle Light

I'm OBSESSED with Baldur's Gate 3. Between Astarion and Halsin I can't choose, so I'm writing both and then will write a threesome fanfic soon!! All my Baldur's Gate 3 fanfics will be uploaded on Tumblr and AO3 so you guys can download them! Thanks for all the love on the Halsin fic <3 Here's the links for the Halsin Fanfic: Tumblr || AO3 The AO3 upload for the Astarion Fanfic: AO3 LINK

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Oral (Male Receiving), Praise Kink, Biting, Blood, Body Worship (Male Receiving), Angst and Fluff (Astarion deserves the world and I will give it to him)

I was pretty good at writing Astarion in the Halsin fic, so I tried to keep that energy here, but he is significantly softer. I don't normally write angst but I felt it fit with Astarion. His personality is fractured between a mask and his pain, and I felt that the complexity of his character (and his trauma) deserved to be explored. What was supposed to be a smutfest became something so soft and gentle that I couldn't help but tear up while writing it. I hope you guys enjoy this!!

WORD COUNT: 5624

Despite the tadpole in your brain, that was the least of your concerns. Your ragtag group has been bringing their problems to you. Since you became the leader in this journey to deciphering your illithid problem, everyone has come to you to solve their own problems. You love your companions, but holy shit, you're one person.

Well, maybe two if you counted the little bastard wriggling in your brain.

"As I was saying, there is not enough of anything for me to feed off." Astarion tells you, annoyed at your lack of attention. You roll your eyes.

"Alright, alright. You can have my blood tonight. Will that shut you up?" You can't help but be rude to the vampire. He was the fourth person today to ask you for something. You already accidentally gave Gale a valuable artifact to absorb, the wrong artifact; Karlach had accidentally burned your arm when her flames went out of control and then Shadowheart and you had gotten in a fight over her Shar worship. You didn't expect to be travelling with a group of overgrown toddlers, but here you are.

"Easy there tiger, don't need to get mad at me." Astarion tells you, wide eyed. You sigh, rubbing your temples. You feel guilty, you do. Today has just been testing your very limited patience.

"I'm sorry Astarion. I'm just exhausted, and everyone keeps coming to me for their problems." You move your hands to cover your eyes, rubbing them with the palms of your hands. He is silent next to you. He... does feel bad for you. He's been watching you struggle with everyone's burdens, especially since you had been also helping them alongside the tadpole issue.

"Darling, you gotta tell them to leave you alone." You whimper at his words, shaking your head.

"These people need me Astarion, how can I tell them off?" He scoffs.

"Like this: Hello, kindly fuck off." You take your hands off of your eyes and look at him with a smile on your face.

"It isn't that easy." Astarion shrugs.

"It can be." You giggle.

"Yeah?" He looks at you with a smirk.

"Of course, it would never work on me. I know I'm your favourite." You smile, looking down.

"What if Halsin is my favourite?" You both glance over the tall elf. He is playing with Scratch, petting him as he sits in his corner of the camp. Astarion scoffs.

"The tree hugger? Darling, come on. Look at me-" He stands up and gives you a twirl, before bowing in front of you. "I'm marvelous!" You blush, chuckling.

"Maybe I like big beefy elves who carry me out of danger!" That was a lie. Halsin was certainly attractive, but your attentions have always been held by the sarcastic vampire next to you.

"I can carry you out of danger sweetheart, just ask." He tells you huskily. You blush again.

"Would you now?" You ask him coyly, looking up at him. He smirks before holding your chin.

"Of course. You're my partner in crime, darling." You smile at his words. He's not wrong. You've spent the most time with Astarion. He has enthralled you since his dagger was held against your pulse point. Your conversation is cut off when Wyll walks up to you sheepishly. You can feel dread crawl up your spine.

"Sorry to bother you (Y/N), but I'm having a problem-" Astarion cuts him off with an eyeroll.

"I'm sure a big boy like you can deal with it." Wyll's jaw drops open.

"I-" Astarion cuts him off again, frustrating the human turned fiend.

"Look at her, Wyll. She's dealing with all of your guys' shit. Give her a break." Wyll scrutinizes him.

"And not yours?" Astarion scoffs.

"What shit? I'm perfect." Wyll rolls his eye.

"Right. Well, I'm sorry for bothering you (Y/N)." He does sound apologetic, turning to glare at Astarion before turning away. You look up at Astarion.

"Thank you." You whisper to him, before giving him a big hug. His body goes rigid. You let go of him and walk off towards Halsin, needing some very needed puppy cuddles from Scratch. Astarion stays in place, the shock rooting him in place.

He can't remember a time in his undead life that people showed real love to the vampire. The last two hundred years of his life have been riddled with suffering and torment. But you! You have not stopped showering him in love and respect. He craves it now, craves your love and attention. He can't help but want to always be near you. He can't help but feel jealous of Halsin. He watches you laughing with the gargantuan elf as you pet Scratch, and bristles. He turns and walks towards his tent, upset. How could he compete with someone who could walk in the sun? Someone who can love freely, and so openly? He was tired. 200 years of living in the shadows, only to find freedom and then once again not feel good enough. His feelings are brewing up a storm of conflict in his head. You were useful to him, his ticket to eternal freedom, but furthermore you were important to him. You made him feel things he hasn't felt in a long time; if he was honest with himself, he doesn't remember the last time he felt such adoration for someone else. He hides in his tent for the majority of the night, brooding.

Your conversation with Halsin was extensive, talking about nature and his worship of Silvanus. It was refreshing to speak to someone about something other than their problems.

Halsin hugs you tightly. "Have a good night, little one." He kisses your forehead before heading to his tent.

By the time you ended your conversation, it was late in the night and most of your companions were sleeping. You decide to go check in on your resident vampire. You walk to his tent, where the flap is closed.

"Astarion." You whisper from the entrance. Not a moment later, he opens up the tent.

"Oh, so you're done with the tree hugger?" He asks annoyed. You giggle into your hand, trying to muffle the sound as to not wake the others. He smirks at that. He may not be as tall or buff as the druid, but he can always make you laugh. Astarion: 1 Halsin: 0, he thinks to himself.

"Yes I am. May I come in?" You ask him sweetly. He nods, lifting the flap of his tent so you can get in.

"You know darling, you're not a vampire. You can come into my tent anytime." He tells you charmingly. You blush softly at the tone of his voice. Always the charmer.

"I know that. I just don't want to intrude on your alone time." You always said these things, such caring things. You cared about his privacy and autonomy, and his undead heart sung your praises.

"You can never intrude." He says quietly. Truthfully. You smile at him, and he basks in its radiance. If he had the opportunity to continue Cazador's ritual, he's not sure he would. Despite his want to walk in the sun again, he wouldn't need sunlight if he had you by his side. Your brightness rivals the sun and all the stars in the sky.

"I appreciate you saying that, little star." That was his favourite nickname you gave him. Little star. You made him feel special; worth it. He chuckles.

"I'm not that little." He tells you huskily. You blush at his words. If he could have the image of you blushing at his words embedded in his brain, he would. At least it would be better than the bastard parasite that's currently taken his body captive. Always the captive.

He gets this far away look, which worries you. You are the only one who notices these looks, and it always upsets you. Despite not knowing much about Astarion's past, you know it was dark and painful. You put a hand on his arm and he flinches. You back away concerned. He clears his throat before speaking.

"Sorry darling." He sounded so vulnerable, your heart ached. Every beat of your heart was hammering in your chest, yearning for him; yearning to protect him. From Cazador, from his past.

"You don't need to apologize to me, Astarion. I shouldn't have touched you like that without your permission." His chest hurts. He'll never be normal.

"You did nothing wrong, sweetheart." He wishes you could understand how perfect you truly are. His eyebrows furrow. You step closer, cautiously.

"May... May I hug you?" Your voice is hardly above a whisper. His eyes get misty, and he nods. You rush forward, gripping him tightly. Slowly, his arms going around you. Your head leans on his chest, feeling sadness as you do not hear his heart beat. As the hug continues, he leans his head onto yours, just... holding you. As he inhales, he can smell Halsin on you. His heart breaks again.

"I may not know your past, but I'm here for you little star." You tell him quietly. If his heart could beat, it would have sped up. He felt your care for him, but he couldn't help his mind from racing. What if you did learn his past? You would not regard him as highly as you do. A single tear falls from his eyes, and then a couple more. You felt the dampness on your hair, and you hugged him tighter.

"You're too good to me." He whispers, his voice cracking. Your heart shatters again. You are filled with such hurt, such anger, that he is broken. You can't wait to crush Cazador's skull with your boots. You pull away, and see the heartbroken look in his eyes. His hands go back to his sides, clenching tightly, as if he was trying to hold himself together. His tears continue to fall, even though he tries to will them away. He doesn't want you to think of him as weak. You gently put your hand on his cheek, and he savours the feel of your soft palms against his skin. Your thumb goes to wipe his tears.

"Oh Astarion. You deserve so much better." Your eyes well with unfallen tears, his pain becoming yours. He shakes his head.

"If you knew what I have done, the people I have hurt, you would never think of me the same." You continue to wipe his tears with your thumb, looking at him with love.

"Little star... I don't care for your past actions. Who you are today, in front of me is what matters. You deserve the world, and have been forsaken by it. I can never think of you poorly. I- I care about you too much." The confession slips from your lips, and you accept the repercussions. You know that if he doesn't return or want your affections, you would still help him find himself; his purpose. You loved him enough to sacrifice your happiness for his, possibly your entire being.

"Oh darling." He whispers, his hands moving to cup your face. You lean into his touch, eyes closing. Without thinking, he rests his forehead against yours, basking in your presence.

"If you don't feel the same way, I am okay with that. I will still be by your side- if you want me to be. I just want to take your burdens on my shoulders. I want to help you find your purpose; find yourself." Your eyes open to look at his ruby eyes. The shined so beautifully in the candlelight. You try to commit him to memory. You don't know if your mind's eye can fully capture his beauty or his being, but you know you would spend the rest of your life trying.

"What more could I want than what's in front of me?" He whispers softly, before pushing his lips to yours. It wasn't just a regular kiss. Despite its innocent nature, it was a lover's embrace, a connection between two souls. Your love for each other was boundless; but for just a moment, a sweet and tender moment, you felt it and its overwhelming power. You both pull away, breathless. You look into his eyes with such adoration, he can't believe how he had never noticed before. Despite being a rogue, it was you that stole his heart and took it as your own.

"I love you, little star." His eyes widen at your confession.

"I-darling-" He is stunned, your words locking him in place as if you had casted Hold Person and Silence at the same time.

"You do not need to say it now, nor ever. I just wanted you to know I will always-always care for you. In the darkest corners of Faerûn my heart will sing for you. I cannot fathom a world where we didn't meet, and my heart shatters when I see your pain. Let me carry your burdens, Astarion." You tell him passionately. He kisses you again, teeth clashing against each other. You hold him to you, with promise of never letting go. When you pull away, you can see the softness in his eyes.

"Even in the darkest corners of Faerûn? That's where I'll be, darling." You giggle. He smiles widely. You brush a curl behind his ear, before smiling brightly once more.

"You're so beautiful like this; when you are happy." He looks away from you, blushing.

"Now you're just flirting, darling." You bite your lip, looking at the blush on his cheeks.

"So what if I am? Can't I tell the man I love that I find him beautiful?" His heart sings again. Hearing you say that you loved him brought him such comfort, such relief that he felt as though he had sprouted wings and flew into the heavens.

"If you continue my ego will grow." He says, turning back to look at you. You roll your eyes.

"Can't have that happen, can we?" He chuckles at your sarcasm. You pull away from him, before taking a seat on his bedroll and patting the spot next to you. He sits, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"So... now what?" He asks you. Astarion never felt so unsure of what to do. He was always 10 steps ahead, and this uncertainty made him uncomfortable and concerned. You lean your head on his shoulder. He leans his head against yours, closing his eyes.

"Let us enjoy each others' presence. We don't need to speak. I just... want to relish this moment with you." You tell him softly. He's never had someone in his bedroll without ulterior motive. This felt like a new chapter in his life. A chapter where you are the main object of his affections, and one where he can put the past behind him- or at least try. He felt rejuvenated, and he smiles, eyes still closed.

"Enjoy each others' presence? I like the sound of that, darling." The rest of the night is silent, occasionally broken by soft conversation with tender words. At one point, you fall asleep on his shoulder. He has never felt so safe. He tucks you into his bedroll, before moving to sit in the corner of his tent. Before he could, your hand grips his.

"Please, stay." You ask softly, eyes open lightly. He nods, before tucking himself into the bedroll. You don't change your position, holding his hand. He curls his fingers to link with yours, and you spend the night innocently holding his hand, fingers linked.

He closes his eyes and lets himself fall into his meditative state, feeling safe and loved.

The next day was not as stressful as the day before. Karlach had already apologized the day before, but she came to you with Clive and told you that you could hug him and pretend it was her hugging you. You were so touched, that you shook your head and told her "when we fix your engine, I will give you a hug that rivals Clive's." And she cried happily nodding. Shadowheart apologized for her outburst, and spoke about her past, and how Shar was all she knew. You nodded, rubbing her arm and telling her you forgive her. And Gale! Gale felt so awful absorbing the wrong artifact that he gave you some of his most prized spell scrolls as an apology.

You decided that everyone deserved a rest day, and they were all grateful for the reprieve. Everyone moved around camp, hanging out with another or doing their hobbies. You spend the morning playing with Scratch and looking at the map, deciding where to venture for the next day. Halsin walks up to you, smiling.

"Hello little one." You smile at him.

"Hi Halsin." You tell him. Astarion hides from behind a bush, eavesdropping on your conversation.

"I wanted to speak to you about something of a more... private matter." He tells you, biting his lip. You turn your head left and right, before leaning in.

"Is everything okay?" He chuckles, nodding.

"Excuse my forwardness, but I can't go on another day without telling you this. Your beauty and radiance rivals that of nature, and I was wondering if you would spend the night with me underneath the stars?" You blush, eyes bulging and mouth wide open. Astarion shakes with fury. For once, for once, he had someone who cared about him. Now she'll be taken away by some-some bear! The poetic tone of his words was beautiful, Astarion admits. Astarion: 1 Halsin: 1, he thinks sulkily. He leans further into the bush, trying to listen to your answer.

"Halsin! I never expected you to feel such a way about me. I'm shocked." Astarion bites his lip, frowning. His anxiety skyrockets. What will he do?

"Of course, little one. Your beauty is captivating. Not just your body, but your soul and mind. I'm truly enamoured." Fuck him and his Parnassian speech. Astarion: 1 Halsin: 2... Asshole, he thinks to himself.

"Oh Halsin. I'm honoured you think of me so. As much as I enjoy you and your presence, my heart is with another. I'm afraid I can't pursue anything knowing my love lies elsewhere. I'm sorry." Astarion's eyes widen. Of course, you told him you loved him last night, but what if you were just trying to be nice? What if you loved another? Before he could spiral, he hears Halsin hum.

"Nature's love is all encompassing, but I understand if you would not want to pursue multiple relationships. Is the one who holds your heart Astarion?" Astarion shuffles even further into the bush, almost falling out into the open. He sees Scratch come close to sniff the bush. He shoos him away, trying to focus on the conversation.

"Yes, he is. I love him more than I love myself, if I am honest. I cannot imagine a world where I would not chase him to the ends of the realms." Astarion's eyes widen. It was him! He was the one who made you feel such a way. Of course, he knew your words last night were honest, but he was never sure someone could be so certain in their affections; especially when they involved him. His heart soared, and he smiled so wide that his cheeks hurt.

"Ah. I can understand how I can not fit in the equation. Your heart is bound to him and his nature. I can't help but feel jealous that he is the object of your affections. However, I am glad you found joy in another. Thank you for telling me the truth. May the Oakfather protect you both and your love." You smile at the gentle giant, before hugging him.

"Thank you Halsin. For what it's worth, I know for certainty you will succeed with expelling the Shadow Curse and find love- or multiple loves." You both laugh at your words, and he walks away, waving at you before going back to his tent. You hear shuffling and a bark before Astarion appears in your view. You smile at him softly.

"Hi little star." He walks up to you and hugs you tightly. You stand for a moment, shocked, before hugging him back.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him quietly. He hums.

"I... overheard your conversation with Halsin." You giggle quietly.

"Overheard? I knew you were eavesdropping Astarion." He backs away, acting shocked.

"Eavesdropping? Darling I would never!" Lae'zel cuts him off from her tent, sharpening her weapons.

"He was hiding in the bush." Astarion gives her an icy glare, and she smirks at the sour look on his face. He turns to look back at you, pouting. You put your hands on your hips and grin at him.

"Innocent until proven guilty, sweetheart." You chuckle. Before he could speak you cut him off, wide eyed.

"I forgot I said you could feed on me yesterday-" You slap your palm on your forehead. "I'm so stupid! You'll feed on me tonight, right?" Astarion hums, smiling.

"An offer I certainly cannot refuse. Can't wait, sweetheart." You blush at his words, looking down. His hand rubs up and down your arm before he walks back to his tent. Lae'zel chuckles at your blush, so you turn to stick your tongue out at her.

The sun had set, bellies have been filled and Gale's telling a wonderous tale about his time in Waterdeep. While everyone is distracted, you walk to Astarion's tent, a path you are intimately familiar with.

"May I come in?" You whisper at the tent flap, waiting for him. He walks out, grabbing your hand. You blush at the contact, you can't help it.

"Once again darling, you are always welcome." He pulls you in gently. Once in the privacy of his tent, he kisses you softly, like a lover. When you pull apart, you look at him starry eyed.

"Wow." He chuckles at your dumbfoundness.

"You're not the first to say so. Continue the flattery~" You slap him in his chest gently, before laying your hand on him.

"Little star, that sarcastic lilt will get you in trouble one day." He smirks.

"Hopefully you'll be the one punishing me, darling." You blush. Your skin feels hot, and you can't help the images he's putting in your mind. When you are quiet for a moment too long, he chuckles.

"Are you thinking about it darling? You punishing me?" You smirk up at him, blush subsiding.

"I'm only imagining you under me, begging for more, little star." His eyes widen, and he swallows. You grin at his reaction.

"I-well. Didn't know this kitty had claws..." Astarion says, nervous. He'd never heard you reply in such a way, and it was affecting him. He couldn't help it, the idea of you and your love enveloping him in a lovers embrace... he has been hurting for so long, but to have another care for him is enticing. Imagining the amalgamation of that love with you, under him... or on top, as you said; it fills him with excitement and desire.

"I just want to show you how much I care, sweet one. Take your burdens from you, to hold you.... Astarion I love you. I always will." His eyes get misty, but he successfully wills his tears away. He wants you, so much. More than anything in his life... possibly more than eradicating Cazador from Faerûn.

"What is stopping you?" He asks quietly. His hands find themselves on the sides of your head, holding you. His thumbs caress your cheeks. Your eyes close gently, lashes fluttering.

"I want you to feel my love and feel safe. I want to explore us... you... at your pace little star." You tell him truthfully. He couldn't imagine himself loving you more, but you have done it. It must be unnatural how light his soul feels hearing those words.

"Please explore what you'd like." He whispers into your ear sensually. You open your eyes, gazes locked. You look into his red orbs, noticing the small specks of burgundy in his eyes.

"Astarion, are you sure? I do not want you feeling pressured for the sake of my pleasure. I could wait a thousand years and would not regret a single moment." He kisses you, pulling you down so you are both kneeling on his bedroll.

"You make everything so easy. The most impossible tasks seem possible. I want to love you, hold you. (Y/N), I want you. Body and Soul." You seat yourself on his lap, and his arms wrap around your waist. You kiss him on the lips, tongue asking for entrance. He allows you, and your tongues softly roll against each other. You take and give, and he does the same. Like the tide, you push and pull. You draw your kisses away from his lips, before kissing down his cheek, then reaching his neck, giving it extra attention. He moans quietly at your ministrations. You begin to grind on him softly, your body touching his like a whisper. He whimpers when you kiss him on his bite.

"My sweet Astarion." You say against his skin, and he shivers. You pull away, smiling.

"May I undress you?" His tongue feels like lead, so he nods. You hum, pulling off his nightshirt. Your hands caress his muscles and the sinew that ties them together, grazing his chest, his abs and then his arms.

"You're more radiant than the stars in the sky. Do you know why I call you little star, Astarion?" He looks at you adoringly, as you show him and his body love and respect.

"Because of my name?" He asks quietly. Astarion meant little star... For elves, you would only get your adult name when you hit adulthood; his name, much like him, was forever petrified in youth.

"That is an aspect of it, yes." You giggle. "I call you little star because you are exactly like a young star. Full of energy, strength, power. Most would look over you, because you are not the largest star in the sky; but I see you as someone who can grow. You have a long life ahead of you, and that path will be bountiful. I know it." You hum, kissing his chest. You have somehow made his disdain for his youth simmer away. He feels unstoppable, knowing that the one he loves holds such a high regard for him, and sees a bright future for him.

"You're incredible." He tells you honestly. You smile at him, running a hand through his perfect curls. You tug gently, and his head tilts back. He is looking at the ceiling of his tent.

"I pale in comparison to you, my love." You kiss his neck again, starting at his bite. Your kisses trail down to his chest, spending an ample amount of time worshipping his nipples. He groans and pants, thighs quivering and his hips rocking back and forth. His member, hardening under you, catches your clit and you moan. You continue your descent, kissing his stomach and showing him love.

"May I?" You whisper.

"Please..." You undress him carefully, kissing his skin as it gets exposed. Once he is fully undressed you smile at him.

"Would you still like to continue?" His mind has forgotten his past, all his suffering. You in all your beauty and care have taken precedence in his mind.

"We can only continue if you're undressed, darling." You nod, undressing for him. You're both nude, and admiring eachother.

"You're stunning." He whispers. You go back to sit in his lap, grinding down on him.

"That's my line." You jest, and he smiles at you. Your efforts to keep him comfortable have made him warm; and needy. He bucks into you, and you moan, head tilted back. He begins to kiss your neck, mirroring your actions from before.

"May I?" He whispers against the column of your neck, and you whimper.

"Please do." He bites into you, and its euphoric. The first time he bit you all those nights ago was painful; but tonight, in the lowlight of his tent, you only feel warmth and love. He moans into your neck, your blood tasting like the finest wine. He pulls off of you, licking up the blood from your neck.

"You taste... delectable." Despite him talking about your blood, it was arousing you. You bite your lip and his eyes track the movement.

"Have another taste." You take a bit of blood from your wound and rub it onto your nipples, before rubbing it on your chest. You put your bloodied fingertip in his mouth. He takes the finger in his mouth, licking and nipping at you. He moans at the action, enjoying how you are feeding him. You pull your finger out of his mouth with a pop and push your chest into his face. He spares not a moment to descend on you, licking and savouring your taste. His tongue laps at your nipples, one at a time. You whimper at the act, gripping his curls tightly. He takes one nipple at a time between his teeth, tugging lightly. The mix of pain and pleasure was enthralling, and you continued to moan, saying his name like a prayer. Once he has cleaned you, he pulls away, licking his lips.

"You're perfect." He tells you earnestly. You blush, before pulling yourself off him. You kneel between his knees, crouching down so you are face to face with his cock.

"I will show you how perfect you are." You whisper, before taking him into your hand. He is large, and your fist can barely close around his girth. He bucks into your hand, keening. You trail kisses up and down his length, eyes never straying from his beautiful face. You take the tip between your lips, licking at the pearl of precum. You begin to take him into your mouth, taking care to be gentle and slow. You wanted to make sure if he ever wanted to stop he could; his comfort and enjoyment taking priority over your own. One of his hands go to the back of your head, and holds your hair. You slowly go up and down his length, tongue swirling around and tasting him. His musk fills your nostrils, and the smell of bergamot and cloves envelop you. You moan around him, beginning to speed up. The hand in your hair tightens, and pulls you deeper until your nose is pressed against the tuft of white-blonde hair at his base.

"O-oh fuck, sweetheart." You begin to deepthroat him, going up and down. He pants, and pushes himself all the way at the back of your throat, and you gag. He chuckles breathlessly, before pulling you off him. Your spittle has covered your chin and the tops of your breasts.

"If we continue like that, we'll be finished too soon." You smile at him, before getting in position above him.

"You're such a good boy, little star. Can't wait to feel you." He never expected to enjoy praise, but the words coming from your lips make him whimper out. You take him in your hand, pumping him once, twice, before descending and taking him. Once you bottom out, you both moan out.

"O-oh Astarion." You whimper. His eyes are wide, trying to commit to memory the look in your face as he fills you deliciously. You begin to move slowly. He already feels so close, the safeness and love he feels for you keeping him on the precipice of satisfaction.

"D-Darling, oh gods, you're tight. Might not last much longer." One arm locks around your waist, while the other trails to where you are joined and rubs you. You wince, moaning loudly. You begin to bounce in his lap and soon he begins to thrust up, hitting you in your cervix and that sweet spot. You were close too, but you wanted to finish together. The rhythm you set is sweet but brutal, the sounds of your coupling loud, but not as loud as the expletives and moans leaving your lips.

He smashes your lips together, and your bodies are touching; almost melding together. Your pace falters but he continues to thrust, his hand rubbing your clit every time he thrusts deep into you. You whimper into his lips, and his tongue finds its way into your mouth, tongues battling and teeth clashing. His lips trail down to your neck to take a bite. As he tastes you, he continues to thrust. You are lightheaded, between his thrusts and blood loss. The room spins, so you close your eyes and focus on how Astarion makes you feel.

He thrusts up once, twice, then stops. His thumb rubs you and you finish together. Your cunt is squeezing him, and milking him of his seed. He finishes inside you, and separates from your neck to moan out and pant. Still sensitive, you move your hips and he groans out, the hand on your waist tightening enough to leave bruises. You chuckle at his reaction, before he does something unexpected. He takes the hand that was rubbing you to his mouth, and keens at the taste.

"Just as savoury as the rest of you. I cannot wait to devour you again sweetheart." You whimper at his words, and clench around him.

"I love you." You tell him, laying your head on his chest. His hand rubs up and down your spine, caressing you.

"I love you too darling." For the first time in his life, he has said words he knew were truthful, without being sarcastic. He knew that for as long as he was unalive, he would love you with all his heart.

END

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x reader smut #astarion #baldurs gate #astarion my sweet angel #astarion ancunin #angst with a happy ending #smut #this is my love letter to Astarion #soft smut #he deserves better #i'd die for this vampire #anyways if you liked this let me know teehee

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

Text

SFW Alphabet—Donny Donowitz | IB headcanon

Link to my IB masterlist

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Affection is Donny’s weakness. Whether it be giving or receiving he is always wanting to touch you in some way. This could be his arm around your shoulders while Aldo is debriefing the squad, your head on his shoulder by the campfire, or light kisses to the forehead before a stressful situation.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Being friends with Donny is basically signing up for chaos. He’s the type who would suggest doing stupid shit and you have to follow in order to ensure he doesn’t kill himself doing it. Laughing to the point of ab cramps is the best way to describe moments with Donny as your bestie.

The friendship started before you two shipped off to France. You were probably the squad’s nurse or high ranking next to him and Aldo that you guys interacted more than with the Basterds. The friendship sorta naturally happened to the point it’s hard to even put a date on when it started.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Physical touch is the mans love language so of course he likes to cuddle. Holding you in his arms with the radio playing while you two doze in and out of sleep is the best feeling in the world. “Doll,” he’ll make grabby hands at you, “c’mere let me hold ya.” He’s the big spoon obviously, but also he likes when he’s laying on his back and you’re curled into his side.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Hell yeah Donny wants to settle down—the literal dream for him is to own a home with you in a nice area where you two get to grow old together. You two would likely run the barber shop or another business and be the couple who give back to the community.

Donny, surprisingly, is a descent cook. Really he specializes in certain dishes that are family recipes. And best believe he can stir up some smacking pasta. You never have to worry about a messy home or kitchen because the Army embedded it into his brain that orderliness and cleanliness is essential…..except on Sundays. That’s y’all’s break day.

E = Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d rather scalp himself than end things with you. If anyone is gonna break hearts, Donny will sacrifice his own to prevent you from experiencing it.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Being a bachelor was honestly what Donny expected he’d be all his life. Yeah he dated and had flings but never did it occur to him he’d want to settle down and build a future with someone. When you came along it was like he had an awakening. Immediately he saw the house with a yard full of animals, kids running around the premises and a ring on his finger. After you two got engaged Donny wasn’t quick to rush a wedding especially since you two had just returned to the states. He wanted to work as much as he could to give you the wedding of your dreams.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Despite being a giant beefy man that he is, Donny is very gentle. His touch is like feathers and always carefully handled as to not hurt you. Anytime you’re sad or distress his approach with you is cautious. Asking questions like, “Do you need to talk or want to be alone?” Whatever you decide he’ll respect even if it means walking away to give you space.

H = Hugs (do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Are you kidding this man lives and breathes for hugs. He gives the best hugs of the Basterd (Wicki coming a close second) so you take any chance you can to hug him. Donny won’t even hesitate when you ask for one or he’ll simply bring you into an embrace he notices you’re under distress.

I = I love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)

Considering he realized he loved you in the middle of a legit war, Donny probably said it quick. And by quick I mean right when it hit him like a truck. You two had been best friends by that point to he was worried to an extent it would crumble before his eyes. But to his utter surprise you said, “Oh, Donny, are you blind? I’ve been waiting for you to say something forever! I love you too, you rascal.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Okay so while he hardly gets jealous when the Basterds or his friends playfully flirt with you, he WILL become a different person when someone he hates tries to swoon you. Of course he’s confident in y’all’s relationship and knows you’d never betray him, he just fucking hates when an asshole attempts to get your attention. “Jealous again, baby?” “NO……maybe.”

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses with Donny are best described as ‘cheeky’. He’ll send you a smirk with eyes reading, ‘Imma kiss you right now,’ before smacking his lips against yours or your cheek before running away. You can’t help but giggle when he does because it’s so adorable and always puts a smile on your face. Your lips and jaw are his favorite places to kiss, however, when he’s feeling frisky Donny will trail his mouth down your neck and collarbones. For him, the Sargent loves to be kissed on the lips as well. He’ll never admit it but Donny is a sucker for when you kiss his chest.

L = Little ones (how are they around children?)

Donny is amazing with children. It’s one of the things you love about him. Even if you two do not plan to have children he loves to spend time with nieces/nephews and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the type to teach the kids in your neighborhood how to play baseball. He’d also offer discount and free haircuts to the children and teens who cannot afford one. If you do have/adopt kids, then expect Donny to be the best father ever. Always attending their school functions and sport games (most likely baseball) and taking your kids to the zoo, museum, Red Sox games, etc. He is their #1 supporter and will do whatever possible to make them happy.

M = Morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

During the war y’all’s mornings started bright and early at the ass crack of dawn. Donny would be the first one up considering he was in charge of getting the Basterds into formation, but he’d make sure to give you a kiss on the head as a good morning before leaving. When there is the rare chance of staying in an inn or motel then he’s all over you with cuddles and waking you up with kisses.

Back home in the states Donny is the type who will put the coffee on the pot as soon as he wakes up to get you a coffee before your eyes open. Then if he has time he’ll run to the cafe by the corner of your street to get your favorite breakfast. “Is that what I think it is?” “Only the best for my baby this fine Sunday morning.”

N = Night (how are nights spent with them?)

I can see Donny as a night owl. Really it was a result of the late nights overseas where he had to keep watch of the camp. The habit carried over when he returned home in which he would stay up listening to the radio or reading a book. You’d have to force him to come to bed—-often making him a warm cup of milk or run a bath. But once his head hit the pillow mans is out like a light and holding you to his chest.

#donny donowitz #donny donowitz x y/n #donny donowitz headcanon #donny donowitz x reader #donny donowitz imagine #Eli Roth #inglorious basterds fanfiction #inglourious basterds #inglorious basterds headcanon #inglorious basterds imagine #inglorious basterds x reader #inglourious basterds headcanons #quentin tarantino characters

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catchmewiddershins · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu Hugs pt 4:

FUKURODANI

Bokuto Koutarou:

THE ONE YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR

THE BEST HUGGER IN THE ENTIRE SERIES

THE BIG MAN HIMSELF

He is the absolute KING of hugs, let me tell you

If you want hugs, he's got you, 900%

All you have to do is hold out your arms and your face will be buried in his chest before you can say Hoot

When he wants hugs he'll stare at you and blink a bunch to get your attention

Or sometimes he'll pout at you, or rest his head on you until you notice

Before we get into the pillow qualities of this man though, let's discuss his hug technique

The kind of man who you can go to when you’re scared, and he’ll wrap you up and whisper reassurances and loving words to you because he is whipped

He can pull off ANY SORT OF HUG

Lying down? Head on chest or thighs, you can fall asleep as he plays with your hair or wraps his arms around you

Sitting down? You can sit on his lap, or drape yourself over his shoulders, or he'll drape over yours!

Standing? He'll hug you straight on, facing you, arms at your waist. He'll hug you from behind, a protective weight at your back, resting his chin on your head.

He has a habit of squeezing you to him, arms round your shoulder blades

His arms are SO BIG and he's SO BEEFY and PLEASE getting hugged to his massive, warm chest is a DREAM COME TRUE

The CUDDLE MASTER

And finally, my magnum opus, the ultimate Bokuto hug:

If you see each other after a while, he'll run to you, especially if you run to him, he'll squeeze you to his chest and hoist you into the air with a joyous laugh, spinning the both of you around before slowing, holding you close as he sways you, humming softly in your ear

Ah that felt good to get off my chest man do I long to hug this man~

Washio Tatsuki:

Tall + Intimidating looking + Strong, silent type? You know this man gives good hugs

Very warm, very safe, like a tower with the insides of a fluffy blanket

Honestly? He’s pretty quiet, not too into loud and exuberant hugging or whispered conversations, but he is so good for comfort cuddles

Anytime you need sheltering from the world, or you’re just tired and stressed, you can go to him and he’ll hug you when you relax, sleep, or vent to him

He’s an incredible listener, he loves to lie on the sofa with you on his chest as you talk about anything

He’ll stroke your cheek or hair, or rub circles on your back with a soft smile

I actually think that, once you’ve been friends or in a relationship for a while, that he’d get a little clingy, once you’re close

He seems to have this stony, blunt, stern face that he shows the world, and that is who he is, but he also really cares for you and he wants to make sure you’re ok, and he will approach you for hugs if he can sense that something is up

Sometimes he’ll hug you to him and he’ll muse quietly over some things he needs to do, or something he’s working on; only short sentences but that’s all he needs to convey his meaning, lulling you to sleep with the low rumble of his chest

Once you fall asleep he’ll press a kiss to the top of your head and whisper ‘I love you’

Sarukui Yamato:

When I tell you that there is SO LITTLE on this man’s personality-

Anyway, I am taking the very very little we see of him and running with it so-

~ahem~

He really loves giving you little kisses while hugging you!

There you’ll both be, standing around, and before you know it he’s got you pressed to his chest, dotting your cheeks, nose and brow with tiny kisses, short, sweet and loving

He does longer kisses too! He’ll press a kiss to your lips mid-embrace, holding it for a little just so you can feel how much he loves you

He’ll do the same if you’re cuddling while laying down, just kiss your face or hands without pulling away for a while

His favourite thing to do is rest his face against your neck or collarbone, letting his lips linger against your skin, not fully kissing it but feeling it, loving the contact between you

He trusts you with his problems, and will sometimes come to you when stressed or annoyed, and vent to you a little while your fingers run through his hair, a feeling that he finds incredibly reassuring

He’s also a fiddler, he’ll fiddle with your hair or clothes or fingers while cuddling, or he’ll paint patterns on your arms with his fingers, twisting fabric into whorls as you cuddle

Akaashi Keiji:

Ah~ another beautiful character! There are far too many of these in this show, it’ll be the death of us all

Regardless - I think Akaashi began a little more uncomfortable with physical contact! He didn’t jump straight into the hug life, but stepped in gradually, yet once he became comfortable oh you’ve unleashed a monster

Akaashi prefers to be calm, collected and polite around others, so it is with you that he unwinds the most

He absolutely adores laying with his head in your lap, letting you play with his curls as he gestures emphatically towards the ceiling while describing his day and how the team is doing

He’s a sway hugger too, he’ll rock you gently from side to side as you embrace, one hand firm at your back or waist

He has a habit of making little sarcastic comments while you hug too, things about what his teammates or other schools have been up to

He gets a little touchy at points, brushing his hands past your arms or shoulders while you work, or using you as a head rest - casual contact for the win here

Considering his habit to overthink, he’ll seek you out whenever his thoughts begin running too wildly

At his point he’ll curl up in a blanket with his head on your chest, talking out his thoughts as you whisper to him - he finds your presence to be the most calming thing in the world

He likes to kiss your hands too, before embracing you - he has this little thing he’ll do

He’ll offer you his hand, and when you take it he’ll press a kiss to your fingers, or the back of your hand, before sweeping you towards him and wrapping you in a hug

He then begins laughing, and he has the most enchanting giggles - they range from quiet to full on snorting, but all of them are some of the beautiful laughter you’ve ever heard

Konoha Akinori:

In all honesty, Konoha is really hard to characterise - I have like... two routes I could go down and I can’t choose... So I’m going to throw in elements of both! Enjoy!

First of all, this guy is really fun and teasing and his hugs reflect this

Another sway hugger, but not gentle swaying, but happy swaying, almost like dancing, you can tell he’s happy as he swishes you around within his clasps, laughing all the while

He likes to flirt a little too as you hug, both hands at your hips and his words a breeze by the shell of your ear, words of affection and admiration for how wonderful you look today

He likes to be the big spoon, and will hug you from behind constantly - he loves to have you laying on him, or to rest his head on yours or your shoulder, humming a small tune

He actually enjoys giving you massages too! His fingers are long and dexterous, and dig perfectly into the knots that the muscles of your back form after a long day, moulding you into a relaxed puddle like a vat of kinetic sand

On the flip side, he harbours several insecurities over his supposed lack of outstanding talent, being the ‘jack of all trades’ and not having a specific ‘thing’

Some days this will hit him hard, and he’ll come to you - lay down his head and close his eyes

He knows you’ll feel his hurt - and nothing cheers him up like your reassurances that he is good enough and that every person with one talent needs an all rounder to back them up and that he’s more useful in the long run

It reassures him, and he smiles as he soaks up your warmth - knowing that he is master of one thing and it’s loving you

Anahori Shūichi:

He’s so sweet and excitable!

Such loving and enthusiastic hugs from him, because you are his whole world

He will squeeze you to his chest with the utmost abandon and give you little kisses all over your face

He does puppy eyes when he wants a hug

When you first became close, he was often a bit nervous to approach you if he wanted a hug

But over time he became more comfortable... and adorably clingy as a result

He’ll always back off if you’re not in the mood - but this man wants his cuddles

CHAIR CUDDLE KING!

Oh what’s a chair cuddle? Only his favourite hug in the world

The BEST hug you can give him is one where he sits in a chair (preferably a massive, squishy armchair) and you sit on his lap and let him cuddle you

Facing towards or away from him he loves it, just having his arms around your waist as you watch something together

He also loves to sit in your lap, if you’ll have him, either as a joke or sincerely

Just this man... he loves the cuddle

Woollen blanket levels of snuggleeeeeeeeeee

Please stroke his hair he loves it

Komi Haruki:

Another energetic boy (this poor team’s coach rip)

He loves you

Like really loves you

And he wants to tell you that over and over again!

While he hugs you he will definitely whisper sweet nothings into your ear and tell you he adores you

Cuddles all day, cuddles all night!

Will cuddle you in his sleep, like you’re laying in bed and you wake up in the middle of the night for whatever reason and he will be snuggling you so hard

One arm thrown over you and his nose at your neck and he’s so happy there that you’d feel really bad moving him

Also definitely headcanon he’s warm

Not open oven Bokuto warm but...

In a room with a log fire in the corner on a winter’s day warm

Very cozy and comforting, also very sweet with you

Will tell you about the funny parts of his day while hugging

Onaga Wataru:

He’s less enthusiastic than some of our previous boys for sure

But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you just as much

I’m feeling sappy tonight so honestly? You are his everything

But headcanon! I don’t think he’s the best exactly at speaking his emotions

Oh he cherishes you with everything he has but he’s relatively quiet and finds it hard to express all that sheer emotion with words

In his mind, letters don’t cut it - how can a mere human mouth fully express the depth of the heart’s devotion? His love is more than words it’s colours and feelings and everything he associates with you and he is not (in his mind) eloquent enough to tell you

But he wants to

So? Hugs

When he hugs you this man puts his all into it

His squeeze is the perfect tightness, not too weak, not too tight

When his arms wrap perfectly around your shoulders, he tries to push all of his feelings into the hug

He wants to transmit his love for you through the physical contact

Long hugger definitely, he can hold you for hours

Will DROP EVERYTHING to hug you if you ask - no matter how important, you are first

Sturdy hugs and frame as well, just a good hugger

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scrollypoly · 3 years

Note

Nsfw alphabet for a hunky, beefed up man we all know and love? Perhaps. We both know he’s an absolute snack. A delight. -🎀

Ah Fen~ 🥰I love this beefy hunk

Disclaimer that, hopefully you guys can assume, my offender is vastly different from the original, the original is shit, and I feel like it should be allowed to recreate a character like this. Apparently that's a controversial topic in the fandom, but oh well. I'm still working on his character, and at some point I hope to have a bio out for him as well as the other characters I write for. He's probably not even going to keep the name, but I'll figure that out too.

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS - DO NOT INTERACT, you will be blocked

Offenderman NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Very good with aftercare, you get the shower drink and snack combo. He's always very adamant on discussing stuff too, especially if it was a scene of any kind; its partially him making sure you are actually okay and happy with how everything went, and partially him taking notes on what to do next time 👀

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your hands. They're so delicate and gentle and vastly different from his. Smaller. Also has an appreciation for legs, expect for yours to be promptly and thoroughly worshiped.

On him? Also his hands; they're a bit monstrous but he's still very prideful of them. I can also see him being a bit vain of his tendrils, very proud and almost boastful of them. He'll show them off if he can safely do so.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Actually fairly normal for an ender? Its cuz of his demon genes, nothing too special about it. Doesn't care where it goes fjshdjf. This letter is a bit boring 🤭

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The tall dark handsome man at the bar that bought you a drink is secretly a midnight vigilante and can and will kill a man if he makes you uncomfy. Also he's not human ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Kind of experienced? Mostly from his mother, who was a succubus. She wasn't shy with her nature and profession before she died, and she told him some tricks. Other than that, he's had maybe a couple of partners in the past.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

It's an either or, with no in between. Mating press, or you on top. Pick your poison 🤭

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

More likely to be goofy, he'll be an absolute dork and crack jokes, especially if you're nervous in any way. He wants you to enjoy it, and if he makes you laugh, that's a bigger plus

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Again, enders are hairless, and so is he . . . so . . . no fuzzy for him

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Normally he just has hookups so intimacy?? What?? He's still like a big teddy bear but like. Actual trust and romance and openness??? Oh god, sign him up!

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Not often, tbh. Usually only on his cycles, maybe if he gets bored. Definitely if you ask to watch 👀

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Bondage and restraint. Maybe some roleplay. Dom his ass. Other than that, not a whole lot

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His place, or yours. Not super big on public stuff, but, I mean, if you want hes not opposed 👀👉👈

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Good personality, intelligence, wit, charm, yada yada. If you can catch his eye, you have a chance of catching his mind and hand, he likes to be wooed tho, and he wants some kind of connection with whomever he sleeps with

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that can injure you. No weapon play or blood play, though impact play can still be on the table. Gagging you is a big iffy too

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Super good and very happy to give it. Very dexterous with his tongue, and while his teeth are a bit sharper than other enders, he's very careful with them not to hurt you, unless you want it. And if you go down on him, he's very easy with you and absolutely makes sure to praise you and give you pointers and nudge you into making him feel so good.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Prefers going slower, but at this point I think it's well established that he's a service top so. Take him at whatever pace you want baby~!

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Oh heck yeah. Very fun and quick, great for teasing you and burning off the desire if it comes up. Very good at fixing and cleaning everything quick and detailed enough that literally no one will know by looking at the two of you either.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

More open to risks, so long as the two of you can fully discuss them. He's not gonna spring anything on you, and he would appreciate if you didn't spring anything on him too 😅

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Hella good, less from his ender genes and more from his demon genes. Being part concubus has its perks for sure, and he can go round after round if he wants too.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Just a few, a couple of dildos and vibes, some plugs, rope, flogs, blindfolds and gags. One of the few guys that will team up with toys and absolutely wreck you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Huge tease. Big on flustering and flirting and teasing you and making you get needy and whiny. If you aren't worked up and grabby when he takes you home, then he ain't taking you home

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Not as adept with his telepathy, and its more fun to moan and growl out loud for you anyway so. The loudest of the enders, and is very happy

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He's a Service Top :o)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Not so similar as the rest of the enders, due to his mixed genes. Big and Thick, tho he still has some stray tendrils around the base. I think the demon genetics will always show through more than the ender genetics, so he is more demon than ender more of the time.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Kinda 50/50. He's not super horny, but it's not hard to work him up.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If you trust him enough to fall asleep with him, he might fall asleep with you if he's tried enough. He will definitely let you cuddle up to him though, he is kind of a cuddle bug.

#offenderman #enderbeings #creepypasta smut #kinktober #minors dni #my posts #my writing #offenderman smut

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zevexsii · 4 years

Text

norton campbell sfw + nsfw hcs (gn s/o)

holy shit i love norton campbell

cut for length!

norton’s a very complicated guy. he’s seen some shit, done some shit, and quite frankly hates most of the world around him. not because he actually thinks it’s bad- he just pushes away everything and everyone he cares about as a defense mechanism.

he wouldn’t necessarily realize that he was developing feelings for his s/o right off the bat- he’d get closer and closer to them without actually thinking about the butterflies that your smile gave him or the protective urges that enveloped most of his critical thinking skills during matches.

it really depends on how easily you open up to him. especially if you’re emotionally available early on. i doubt he would entirely open up to you about the mining incident, or even about the root of any of his problems, but if you were there on norton’s bad days to calm him down or let him vent, he’ll fall head over heels for you even quicker.

not particularly talkative. norton doesn’t really know how to keep a conversation going and deflect too-personal questions at the same time, so most days he just enjoys sitting with you.

right before The ConfessionTM, norton begins to isolate himself more than usual. he does his best to avoid you at mealtimes, will ditch matches that you’re both playing in, paying no mind to the consequences. it’s hard for him to even look at you without losing his composure- either spacing out and making heart eyes in your direction or having graphic thoughts of your death at his hands. it would be accidental, of course. he’d lash out and hurt you; make a mistake in a match and leave you bloody.

if you seek him out, it might make it worse; he’ll probably snap at you, but he can’t hold up his apathetic front for long. he breaks down as you turn to leave, grabbing for your hand or your wrist. he hangs his head and asks you not to go in a low, hoarse whisper. he’s sniffling.

this is the first time norton would seek out physical comfort from you. his movements are shaky and apprehensive as he tugs you closer to him- depending on where you managed to corner him, norton’ll ask to sit down and be held by way of burying his face in the crook of your neck. he’s terrified you’re going to pull away the entire time.

indulge him. gently card your fingers through his messy, dark hair or rub gentle circles onto his back and he might cry. poor guy’s repressed to hell and back.

norton’s feelings for you are quite obvious at this point, but he needs to make sure to let you know, just in case. when he says that he’s in love with you, he’s breathless and the words are harried. if he’s able to look at you at all, his brown eyes are anxious and searching- begging for an answer, even if it’s one that would destroy him completely. he doesn’t really expect you to reciprocate his affections- he’s high maintenance at the very least in his own eyes.

when you tell him that you love him too, norton is awestruck. he has to verify that he heard you correctly- tell him again and he lets out a watery chuckle proceeded by a shit-eating grin.

hold onto him a little while longer. he needs it.

now that norton’s confessed and you’re officially together, his behavior towards you in public doesn’t change too much- in lobbies before matches or mealtimes he lingers by you, keeping up a low conversation about mundane things. he’s unsurprisingly uninterested in pda, except for special occasions.

in private, there are a lot of casual, domestic touches. norton’s inclined to come up and wrap his arms around you from behind, or rest a hand on the small of your back as you’re working away at a task.

adores forehead/cheek kisses. the simple things make him soft beyond belief. deep, passionate kisses are usually reserved for when things are getting hot n’ heavy, plus they trigger norton’s claustrophobia very easily. norton normally despises any sort of attention drawn to his scars- they’re a massive insecurity of his, not to mention the horrible reminder of his past that they bring up, but if you give him small smooches on his upper cheek, or the border between scarred flesh and his normal tan, he’ll melt.

can cook surprisingly well! norton’s been alone for the great majority of his life- not to mention he lived with a bunch of bachelors, so he knows the basics. however, anything you make will be devoured within seconds. really enjoys sweets!! uses excess frosting on your lips or cheek as an excuse to kiss you <33

is a pretty big eater!! norton’s a beefy guy and he tells you that he’s gotta keep himself strong in order to protect you <3 he’s also got a phat ass

norton’s a bit clueless when it comes to asking for cuddles; he’ll just sort of drape himself over you or mumble about being tired, hoping you’ll take the hint. on bad days, he doesn’t even want to get out of bed. everything’s just too much, he hopes you’ll understand.

let norton rest his head in your lap or hide his face in your shoulder. sometimes it’s humiliating for him to let you see him like this- hold him close and gently play with his hair or intertwine your fingers in his. actions like that help ground norton.

coo soft things in his ears. tell him you love him, that it isn’t his fault. that you’ll stay with him no matter what. these reassurances in particular help combat his overwhelming abandonment issues.

on regular days, norton’s favorite cuddle positions are probably those that involve you laying your head on his broad chest, or him holding you from behind.

very outdoorsy! go on walks with him and he’ll point out interesting rocks and the two of you will pocket geodes to take home and crack open. offer norton small things that you found on the way home, or gems that you pilfered from the golden cave map. it may not seem like a lot, but realizing that you care enough about norton to remember the small things that he enjoys makes him feel endlessly loved.

i can’t stress enough how much norton appreciates domesticity. dude’s had a rough life, at this point he just wants to settle down in a stable place with someone who loves him, hopefully with a few kids, if his s/o is up for that!

nsfw

norton is practically a connoisseur of intense, rough sex. as mentioned above, he’s got a lot of repressed shit to deal with and most of his more ‘vulnerable’ emotions are turned into anger. unhealthy coping mechanisms go brrrrr.

needless to say, it’s best to use a safeword with norton.

that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy slow, passionate stuff- most days he’s perfectly happy to bury himself inside you however you need.

during slow, soft sex, norton prefers to be ridden. it allows him to sit back and revel in the pleasure of being fucked by his lovely, lovely s/o.

his fear of abandonment also comes into play during sex. he’ll get you begging for his cock, whimpering uncontrollably about how badly you need him inside of you. deep down, norton yearns to be needed by someone.

not the most vocal partner, but lets loose a plethora of gasps and grunts once he’s got your tight hole stretched around him- most dirty talk consists of half-formed, growled curses that go straight south.

always preps you with oral. he doesn’t care how ready you are for his dick, he needs to finish you off with his mouth first. norton’s definition of finishing you off consists of bruising and biting all over your hips and upper thighs before moving on to rub a calloused finger over your clit or give light strokes to your cock, paying special attention to the vein running along the underside. by the time he’s done, you’ll have cum at least twice and that’s if norton’s rushing it.

unsurprisingly addicted to marking you. nothing riles norton up more than watching you interact with the other survivors while they frantically try to ignore the bruises and hickeys that have crawled up your neck and right under your jawline. if said survivor glances to norton afterward, he’ll toss a sleazy smirk in their direction. you’re fucking him and everyone knows it.

not really a fan of missionary. norton’s partial to fucking you from behind and leaving small scratches and bruises from how tightly his massive hands grabbed your hips.

he’s a thigh and an ass guy. ‘nuff said. he doesn’t have anything against boobs, though!

won’t introduce choking or restraining you- norton wants to revel in every little twitch and movement you make while he shoves himself between your thighs. of course if you ask for either of those things, norton will indulge you. choking would probably do well with his size kink.

definitely has a breeding kink. all he wants is to completely fill you up with his seed- he’ll go as many rounds as he can, desperate to stuff you full of his cum. he’ll degrade you while he does this- calling you his little whore, going on and on about how desperate you are for his cum.

a fair bit into overstimulation. it feeds norton’s sorely battered pride that no one else can see you like this- flushed and nearly in tears, letting out strangled mewls of pleasure while his cock slams against your prostate/g-spot. don’t even think about hiding your face in a pillow, either. the noises and expressions you make are part of how norton is assured he’s doing a good job- he also thinks you’re damn beautiful, all unraveled for him like this.

as stated above, norton prefers to cum inside of you, but if you’re not up for that he’ll pull out and cum on your ass or in his hand.

pulls your hair quite a bit- he’s pulled strands out in the past and apologizes like hell afterward. it’s not his intention to hurt you.

aftercare!! soft. norton’ll offer to wash your hair and wash your back- his hands are strong and more often than not, he ends up massaging your shoulders. wash his hair and he’s in heaven. lots of mildly soapy forehead kisses and whispered “i love you”s as the two of you crawl into bed, your head tucked under norton’s.

#norton campbell x reader #norton campbell idv #prospector #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv x reader headcanons #prospector x reader #idv prospector #norton campbell #norton campbell x reader headcanons #identity v x reader headcanons #idv smut #identity v smut #norton campbell smut #i'm a bit unsatisfied with this but i can always post more #identity v prospector #norton simp hours

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 3 years

Note

Hello moosh san!! Can you do Sanji/Killer i love the blonds so much. Idk why but they are amazing. Maybe jealous hcs. I saw your post of ask box being open. Ignore this request if you dont feel like doing. 😊 have a good day!

Hello anon! Sanji is a character that I'm not really confident writing for but I hope I did him and Killer good in this! I hope you enjoy!

(This work includes: gender neutral!reader)

Sanji

Now deep down Sanji knows he absolutely, completely, full heartedly trust you with every bit of his soul (dramatic much?) and a deep part of him hopes that you feel the same way and know yes he might go on his simp tangents™ the love cook's heart is 100% loyal to you and he wastes no time making sure you know that every single day. With that being said, trust is an important value for your relationship to work.

However, even though he knows that you wouldn't do anything he knows for a fact that won't stop other men's repulsive gazes, so he always makes sure to have one leg ready to fire up a diablo jambe just in case you start getting stares he knows that makes you feel uncomfortable.

If you're the one to feel jealous (with previously mentioned simp tangents™ it can be rather quite easy to) it doesn't take Sanji long to notice, the lady (or ladies) he was previously talking in front of the storefront the two of you were going to restock from, to he'll politely excuse himself and rush over to your side and ask if you're okay. Once you tell him how you're feeling he look back at the women then back to you and give you a genuine apology assuring to you it was just polite conversation, with a soft gentle hands clasping yours, and promises you hold all the pieces of his heart in your hands followed by long kiss to your lips and a quiet "I love you, " to your ear erasing all previous bad feelings

Before the two of you got together, to no one's surprise you being around Zoro made the blonde cook very jealous. Now this was WAAAY before the two of you got into any relationship of the sort and it was very early on in the crew's Grandline journey really before they'd really clicked as a family and of course the normal petty arguments between the two would break out which you had to step in and break. Now over time it changed, as your relationship grew it was very clear that you and Zoro were just platonic friends - just nakama - and very few of the Strawhats know it was actually Zoro who got the two of you together; saying the 'constipated' looks on your faces whenever you were put next to each other 'bugged him' (Zoro translation: he wanted his friends happy together)

Killer

Like Sanji, Killer has his complete trust in you. The relationship between you is great, he sees no reason to be worried about you being around others and besides he enjoys you having a great time making friends.

However, he also knows there's some thick headed people out there that won't take it when no means no and he knows Kid has no problem signaling the crew to knock some heads and trash the place when you look over at the first mate and captain for help, and honestly...Killer doesn't mind it either when he personally gets the hands on the bastard.

Despite what he may think of himself, Killer is a very attractive man even with his mask covering his face that physically hides it, but there's more than just looks that make people just drawn towards him; his kind charm, his warm protective aura, his dictation and loyalty to his captain and crew, those big beefy hands that were just made to squeeze and comfort, so it's just easy to see why people find Killer so alluring and you've out of anyone can see that clear as day.

Now like I said, Killer is a very loyal guy and deep down you know there really isn't a reason to be jealous but just so happen if you're feeling uneasy by whoever is digging up those feelings in your heart, Killer is going to be real quick to notice and won't hesitate to stop whatever he's doing to try and quell your distress by making you sit next to him or on his lap so he can hold you close with a nice secure embrace - his fingers rubbing nice gentle circles into your sides and resting his head onto the top of your head/shoulder as a silent way to tell you everything's alright, there's nothing to worry about, and his heart belongs to you and you only.

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

Tagging list

@emeraldpearls

How to be added to the tagging list + additional info

#one piece #one piece x reader #blackleg sanji #sanji x reader #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #mine #gender neutral reader

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

Your place

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (High School AU)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, bullying, threats, non-con.

Words: 1510.

Summary: You suffer in the arms of America's golden boy, the one who has been bullying you for years.

P.S. I just realized most of my smut fics are about Bucky, so I decided to write one with Steve instead. Btw, all characters had reached 18 years of age. Hope you'll enjoy!

______________

"Damn girl, you better put some makeup." Someone's loud voice behind your back made you flinch. "Y'know, you can still do something about that face."

You heard a burst of laughter and bit your lips. It had always been a part of your daily routine for several years once you moved to New York and went to Abraham Lincoln High School. God, you regretted it with all your heart.

"Come on, Sam. Give her some credit." You didn't even need to turn your head to know who was speaking. "She's the natural beauty, isn't she?"

You spun on your heels, watching harshly the group of guys leaning against the wall and smirking at you, all beefy, muscular and tall. The biggest assholes in whole Brooklyn; players of Howling Commandos, your school's basketball team; the ones most of the girls dreamed about and to whom they sent love letters every goddamn week, as the guys claimed. They had been your absolute nightmare since you got transferred to this place.

You glanced at Steve Rogers, America's golden boy, incredibly handsome with those blonde hair and blue eyes; the picture-perfect image of a diligent, polite student; the one whose face they put on promotional posters every year. You knew better than anyone else who was hiding behind this facade of "just a kid from Brooklyn".

"What, are you moody after yesterday's game?" You smirked, knowing very well that they had just lost against Hydra, the team Steve always hated with all his soul. "Go fuck youself and calm down, dear. Or are your buddies gonna lend you a hand, maybe?"

The smile fell from his face as the guy frowned, his bright blue eyes burning a hole in your figure. You guessed he really missed those days when you just listened quietly while he and his friends kept insulting you, but these days were long gone. You grew some teeth by the end of your final year.

"Listen, you little..." Bucky hissed, but Steve raised his hand and made him fall silent as you grinned, clenching your lunchbox in your hands.

Oh, he was mad. You knew well how much Rogers detested swear words, especially if they were coming from a woman's mouth.

"Watch your language, girl," his voice was unusually hoarse, his eyes watching you intensely, "or I'll have to teach you how to speak to a man myself."

"I'd like to see that." You giggled nervously, relieved there were enough students passing by to prevent Steve from doing anything stupid. "But if you want to complain to Mr. Banner to give me a detention, please feel free, dear."

You turned around with a silly smile on your face, waiting for him and his friends to give you some more empty threats, but you heard nothing at all as you kept walking. Suddenly feeling victorious and somewhat invincible, you laughed to youself, hurrying away. Did you just make those assholes silent, gasping for words at your audacity? Did it truly shut their goddamn mouths? God, it was unbelievable. Well, maybe going against Steve Rogers wasn't wise, but you couldn't pretend you were okay with that attitude of his after all those years of pure humiliation. You did nothing but protected yourself, right? Besides, he could hardly do anything since you were never alone at school, and after finishing your classes you were lucky to be driven home by your dad who worked close.

But maybe buying a mace wasn't a bad idea.

You laughed at yourself, finally arriving at the cafeteria and landing on one of the seats with a loud sigh. You knew Steve and his friends wouldn't do anything - their college admission was at stake, and you'd be happy to provide police with all the details if anything were to happen to you. Surely, they wouldn't risk it for just a few words you exchanged with them this morning.

_________________

Shit, you were so late for your PE class! Everyone was already at the field while you ran to the locker room, gasping for air. You didn't need Maximoff to yell at you the third time this month.

You threw your bag to the floor once you spotted your locker and jumped to it, abandoning your skirt in a matter of seconds and desperately trying to get your shorts out. You didn't care much about your surroundings as no one else was inside the locker room. Class had already started 10 minutes ago.

You didn't think anyone could be waiting for you here on purpose.

Before your heard the lock snap, somebody slammed your body into the locker, pressing you to its cool metal door so hard you lost your ability to move. Frightened to death, you were ready to scream, but someone's hand clamped over your mouth, muffling the sound. God, what was happening? Who was that? Why didn't you see anyone?

"Shhh, it's okay." You knew this voice too well. "You can keep screaming, but there's no one around, you know that."

You grunted against his hand, trying your best to throw the huge guy off you but achieving little: Steve was a bull of a man. His enormously big body leaned so close to yours that you could feel his every fucking muscle with his chest pressed to your back. His other hand gripped your throat tighter to make you stop squirming.

You needed to keep your mouth shut today instead of provoking him.

"Yeah, like that." Steve shushed you in a mockingly gentle tone, lifting his hand from your mouth and nuzzling against your ear, inhaling your scent. "I like when you're quiet."

"What the fuck are you doing, Rogers?" You asked him furiosly, pretending you weren't frightened to death. "Have you lost your head?"

"Language." His low gutteral growl made you shiver as you felt his palm on your neck moving.

Clenching your teeth, you tried pushing him away once more, but instead you just grinded against his heated body and realized he was... aroused, the bulge in his pants obvious as you moved your ass. God, no. No, no, no! You were at the edge of going into hysterics, shaking and pushing and crying with his hand on your mouth again. It was hard to breath with so little space Steve gave you, his unbearably hot body covering yours.

"What happened, dear? Cat got your tongue?" You were disgusted at his sweet loving tone. "Aw, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. You wanted me to teach you how to speak to a man, remember?"

His grip on you was madly strong - you winced in pain once Steve had squeezed the cheek of your ass with his huge calloused palm, your head pressed into the cool metal locker as he hovered above you. When he started kissing your neck, you bit your tongue in utter despair. He was fucking sick. Deranged. He was ready to do this over some little quarrel when the only thing you actually did was responding to his bullying.

Your mind was hazy as you started losing your strength after good five-minute struggle. Rogers didn't relent in his efforts to keep you pinned and completely defenseless.

"This is rape, Steve." You whispered, exhausted and anxious. "Do you understand?"

"Come on, what are you saying?"

His hand travelled down to your hips as he caressed them gently and moved to tug your panties down your legs.

"You're so wet for me, dear. How can you call it rape?" You shut your eyes when Steve touched you down there, forcing you to spread your legs and settling in against the craddle of your thighs. As he moved the elastic of your black panties, his fingers were playing with your folds, and you realized with shame he was right as he spread a bit of your wetness on your skin playfully. "Admit it, you have a thing for bullies."

"No, I d..."

Before you could bark at him he forced you to turn your head and kissed you hungrily, pushing his tongue in your half-opened mouth. You squirmed, grasping his hand, yet his arm that he used to hold your chin before swept yours away as he pushed you against the locker even harder. You could feel his erected cock through the fabric of his school pants.

Making a soft noise at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against yours, you heard Rogers groaning, his chest heaved. If you could pull away, a shudder would rush down your spine at the sight of his face. Instead of a school bully there was a predator waiting to tear his prey apart.

"Stop, please..." You panted heavily once he finished kissing you, his fingers still caressing your womanhood, your juices leaking down your thighs. "Why me? What have I done? You have hundreds of girls who want to throw themselves at you."

He smiled and rested his sweating forehead against yours, teasing your entrance.

"You see, it's easy. You get off on being bullied, and I get off on bullying you." Steve started rubbing little circles on your engorged clit, admiring your blushing cheeks. "We can have so much fun together if you just stop resisting me and take your place."

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @lovelydarkdaydream

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #captain america #yandere

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 4 years

Text

Tell Me Pretty Lies

Summary: Yoongi meets you when he’s 13, and falls in love with you about thirty seconds after that.

Warnings: this is mostly angst with a little bit of smut, vaginal sex, oral sex, just a lot of sad and mad, alcohol used as a coping mechanism, just an angsty friends to lovers au nothing to see here

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 7181

There is often some new kid coming in mid quarter, and Yoongi doesn’t pay much mind to any of it when his homeroom teacher introduces you.

He does look up, though, when you speak, your voice quiet but strong.

“My name is Y/n,” is all you say, even though the teacher encourages you to say something about yourself.

Yoongi likes it, likes the way you tilt your chin up just slightly and shake your head when the teacher pushes.

He likes the way your hair curls at your neck, the way your backpack is slung half over one shoulder, as if you could drop it at any time.

Yoongi tries not to stare, but his brain wants to memorize the line of your jaw, your cheekbones. He looks back down at his notebook when you walk towards him.

You keep your head down as you walk across the room, settle next to his desk and he smells something like raspberries when you settle in.

He doesn't look up, writing his name over and over in his notebook, until you clear your throat.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "Can I borrow a pencil?"

When he looks up he's struck by your big eyes and he silently hands over his, the only one he has.

You smile, big and open, and Yoongi spends the rest of his life chasing how that smile made him feel.

His hands are shaking when he pins on your corsage, palms sweaty when you take his hand while your mother takes pictures.

Yoongi had gone on and on about how much he hated the idea of prom, how it was all institutionalized bullshit, but you’d just smiled, tilted your head.

“I think it’s kind of nice.”

“Yeah right,” he dismisses, shoveling another spoonful of rice into his mouth in the cafeteria.

But you keep smiling, moving your food around on your plate.

“Really? Prom?”

You shrug. “I like the idea of dressing up, someone wanting to show me off.”

“Yeah?”

You look up at him then, nod a little, and that little wistful smile tells him you don’t think anyone will ask you, tells him you don’t think your mother can afford a dress, and his chest aches.

“Wanna go with me?” He asks, and the way your smile widens into a grin makes him feel like he could rule the world.

The dance is a blur of flashing lights from pictures and the disco ball they’ve hung, of his hands on your hips as you dance to whatever dumb pop song is playing, your flushed cheeks. There’s spiked punch and his friends handing him a flask of something cheap and acidic and by the end of the night his head is spinning.

What he does remember, he remembers so vividly that he can feel your hands on his chest when he thinks about it, can see the smeared lipstick at the corner of your mouth, feel the brick against his back when you push him against the wall.

Did he kiss you or did you kiss him? He doesn’t remember, it’s like everything shut off the instant your lips met, the instant your tongue slides into his mouth like it belongs there and all he can feel is your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, your breasts against his chest. It was probably just a couple of moments, that kiss, probably just an instant, but the way Yoongi remembers it is like you’d stood there for hours like that and when you pull away he remembers clutching at your dress.

You’d laughed, covering your mouth, and your eyes are sparkling and glassy and Yoongi would do unimaginable things to get that moment back, to live in it forever.

He remembers you holding his hand in the car, remembers your head on his shoulder.

The next day he has a throbbing headache but he can still taste your strawberry flavored lip gloss and a hangover can’t stop him from smiling all day.

When you don’t answer his calls, don’t show up at school for two days, there’s a panic in his throat that he can’t ignore and he fights the urge to show up at your house for as long as he can, which turns out to be noon on the second day.

He skips third period and knocks on your door and when you open it, your eyes seem too big, your mouth swollen.

“Yoongi,” you say, in this hoarse voice, and he wonders if it’s from too much sleep or too many cigarettes. He opens his mouth and then there’s this low voice, calling your name from behind you.

Yoongi feels like all the air has gone out of his lungs.

“Oh,” he says stupidly, standing there, looking at you blankly.

“Yoongi,” you say, more softly, but by then his legs have started working and he’s walking fast toward his house, fighting tears and the acid in his stomach.

Yoongi fucking hates frat parties. He’s not even in a frat, but his best friend Hoseok is, and he’s been dragged out to some kegger and he’s around all these idiots chugging beer and holding a solo cup when he sees you.

Some beefy freshman is doing a kegstand and you’re just laughing big and open and it makes his heart flutter in his chest.

He’s making his way over to you, wedged in between a sea of fratboys, when the freshman stands up and you steady him with your hands on your hips.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you mutter, but you’re still laughing when the guy leans down to kiss your mouth.

It’s familiar, the way Yoongi’s stomach rolls, the way his skin feels tingly as if there’s something crawling beneath it. He takes in a deep breath, moves back toward the keg as if he won’t spend the whole night watching you, wondering if you were taking someone home.

“Who’s that?” Hoseok asks when he returns, eyes big and glassy despite only having had a couple of beers. Yoongi had told him he was too much of a lightweight to join a frat.

“Her? That’s Y/n.”

“An ex?”

Yoongi snorts, takes another gulp of beer before answering. It hurts, that question, and he’s been asked it so many times and he’s not quite sure how to explain what you are to him.

“Nah. She’s my best friend.”

He hears it in his own voice, how it goes soft and gentle, and he hates himself for it. Luckily Hoseok is tipsy enough to be easily distracted, pulled into a game of beer pong or whatever the fuck frats play at these stupid parties.

Yoongi’s content to be a wallflower usually, but he finds himself scanning the room, looking for you. All he sees is broad shoulders of the frat boys and a scattering of freshmen girls. He only spots you by the guy you were with, he’s got a Greek letter painted sloppily on his chest and you sitting in his lap on the couch.

After another couple of beers Yoongi is drunk enough to go over to the couch, to come over and sit next to you with his beer in his hand.

“Yoongi,” you say, almost in a breath, and scramble off the freshman’s lap to be closer to him.

It makes his throat ache, how you put your head on his shoulder, just like you did that trip home from prom, and he puts his arm around you out of instinct.

“Y/n-ah,” he calls softly. “You need me to take you home?”

“I can take her home,” the kid pipes up, words slurred around the edges.

Yoongi’s eyes shoot to his, and the kid backs down almost instantly, slumping back against the couch.

You nod against his shoulder, curling into him even more, and he stands up to tug you up. On the walk home, you don’t even seem that drunk, you’re walking fine but you lean against him nonetheless, keep his hand tight in yours until you reach your dorms.

He starts to walk away when you unlock the door but you tug at his hand.

“Come lie down with me,” you say in a hushed whisper, and Yoongi knows how small these dorm beds are, he’d been awkwardly in one with a couple of girls before, knows he’ll wake up with his arm asleep and his head hanging off the bed, but your eyes are big and pleading and so he just follows you to the bed, props up against the wall and tries not to look when you shuck off your jeans, climb into bed in your tanktop and panties.

Instead of letting him spoon you like he’d expected, you nuzzle your face into his neck.

“Yoongi,” you say again, this breath against his throat, and he feels this wave of emotion so big it threatens to drown him.

“What?” He asks softly, tugging the sheets up to your neck.

“Love you,” you mumble, throwing an arm around his waist and his breath catches in his chest.

Your hair smells like tobacco and Axe body spray but he wouldn’t change a single moment.

Yoongi thinks he’s intelligent, he thinks he can predict what’s coming to a certain degree, but the night before his college graduation, he’s completely blindsided. It isn’t as if you haven’t talked. You always talk, even if it’s just here and there, a couple of text messages over a few weeks. Yoongi doesn’t ever let too much time go by without speaking to you, he hasn’t since you’d met.

But it hadn’t been the same, ever since you started dating that sophomore, Jungkook. It isn’t as if Yoongi doesn’t like him.

He’s a sweet enough kid, seems to be crazy about you. Yoongi can’t hate him, and that’s what makes it hard. You only shrugged when Yoongi asked you about him, and that made the tightness in his chest loosen just a bit.

It’s a bit after midnight when there’s this knock on the door, a knock he knows. It’s two knocks, a pause, and then another, and the sound of it always makes his heart jump into his throat.

He rushes to the door and when he opens it you’re standing there with your backpack on and rolling luggage behind you, eyes wide and wet.

“Can I stay here tonight?”

As if you have to ask. Yoongi opens the door, takes your luggage, can’t stop himself from taking you by the shoulders.

“What happened?”

“We broke up,” you say, your voice low and hoarse again, and your eyes, there’s something in them that hurts him, makes him ache deep in his bones.

“Do you want me to firebomb his house?” Yoongi asks flippantly, but he means it, he’d set the world on fire for you.

You laugh a little and sniffle. “Nothing like that, Yoongi. I just needed to let go.”

Yoongi pulls you into his arms before he can think about it, kisses the top of your head.

“It’s okay,” he promises, and he means that too, he’ll make it okay, no matter what.

You hug him so tight, press your face into his chest and cry for a few moments before pulling away and wiping at your face.

“Do you have any beer?”

That’s how you end up sitting on the arm of the couch next to him, and he’s half drunk on beer and half drunk on the way your arm feels light around his shoulder, your nails scratching at his bicep just lightly enough to give him goosebumps.

“Yoongi,” you call softly, and he’d been staring at the television not paying a bit of attention to what was happening on the screen so he looked up at you and your mouth looked so full, so close.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t seem able to string a sentence together and he has only had three beers.

“How come you never kissed me?”

Yoongi takes in a breath like all the air has thinned, and he doesn’t think, for once, doesn’t think a single word, just puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his lap.

You make a surprised squeak but you’re smiling, that big open smile that made him feel like he was on top of the world.

He kisses you first on the corner of your mouth, soft, and then again on the softest part of your bottom lip. When you part your lips and let him slide his tongue inside he feels a bolt of pleasure shoot up his spine.

It isn’t his first kiss, or his second, or his tenth, but it’s you. It’s you and you make him so hungry, it’s like he’s starving for it, for the taste of bitter beer on your tongue, the soft breathy moans you make into his mouth.

“Yoongi,” you moan, and he pulls away but you shake your head, mumbling protests and clutching at his shirt. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never,” he says fiercely, and kisses you again, harder, catching your bottom lip between your teeth.

When you move off his lap he feels empty, this void in his chest, but you take his hand, tug him up and lead him to the bedroom.

You undress slow, like you’re putting on a show for him and he’s rapt, looking up at you with his tongue darting to the corner of his mouth. He sits there like an idiot, fully dressed until you drop to your knees and put your hand on his waistband.

“Y/n,” he breathes, but when you look up at him he’s struck silent again by your big eyes and the way you yank down his sweats, your tongue darting out to wet your lips when his cock is freed.

He’s half hard just from kissing you and he feels his face heating up, embarrassed, but you just make this moan in the back of your throat.

When you dip your head, his cock twitches in anticipation and when you suck the head into your mouth he draws in a sharp breath and fists his hands in the sheets.

He can’t say he hasn’t imagined this, hasn’t imagined it was you when he took himself in hand or worse, when a girl was between his thighs.

Imagination is much different from the real thing, you’re looking up at him and he’s holding his breath and feeling his balls draw up before you’ve even gotten properly started.

Yoongi cups your face in his hands and you make a whining noise that makes him chuckle.

“Your mouth is too perfect, baby,” he mumbles, and he’s surprised at how calm his voice sounds to his own ears. He’d expected his mouth to run away with him, expected to tell you all the things he’d been holding inside for all these years, but he can barely speak, barely even form a sentence, much less a confession.

“Condoms?” You ask, moving to straddle his thighs, and all he can do is nod, a lump in his throat because your breasts are in his face.

You look at him expectantly, smiling, and he shakes his head to clear it and scoots back on the bed, putting an arm around your waist to pull you with him.

You giggle at how awkward the movement is and he groans but he’s smiling when he manages to find a condom in his bedside drawer.

You take it from him immediately and shift on his lap and he can’t even believe this is happening, is still looking down at your breasts, the swell of your stomach, the mound of your pussy. He’s never even seen you naked and he feels like he doesn’t have enough time to drink you in like he wants to. He wants to memorize every swell and dip, every line and mark, but you’re already applying the condom and rocking your hips forward and he can’t think anymore.

“Oh, oh,” is all he can manage, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and your lips find his and you’re kissing him like you can’t get enough, like you’re just as hungry as he’s always been and he can’t help himself from thrusting up under you, his hands moving from your breasts to your hips and back again.

He doesn’t know what to touch first, wants everything, wants all of you, but his body isn’t listening to his brain and he’s so close to orgasm that all he can do for the most part is lie there while you work him over. You pull away and brace your hands on his chest, and he’s rapt.

He’s been with a dozen girls or so over his college experience, but this is so vastly different that all he can do is watch you, mouth parted, his tongue coming out to wet the corner of his mouth.

All his sexual experiences seem to be when he was drunk at some party and got a blowjob or met someone in a club and took them home, bent them over the couch arm. It wasn’t like this, it wasn’t slow and sensual, you rolling your hips and rocking forward at the same time, your breasts bouncing, your cunt sucking him in with every thrust when he can’t help himself and his hips twitch up.

Yoongi feels lightheaded from the way you moan his name, from how your fingernails press into his chest, how you don’t even close your eyes, keeping them on his and there’s something so hungry in them, something that reminds him of how he’s felt every moment he’s spent with you for years.

He knows it’s coming, can feel it hitch in his chest and his throat before the words came out.

“Y/n, you’re so beautiful.”

The words come out low and almost hoarse, and your hips slow just a bit and he’s grateful, he doesn’t think he could have lasted much longer at your pace.

“Yoongi, tell me you want me.”

He blinks up at you, his hands going to spread up your back. He sits up, which just spears him deeper into you and it makes you gasp.

He pulls you closer, your breasts against his chest, his forehead touching yours.

“I’ve always wanted you,” he says, and it’s this cracked whisper and he feels like he’s lost 100 pounds of weight, saying those words. It doesn’t stop there, though, everything spilling out of him and he can’t stop it. “I’ve always loved you, Y/n.”

A sob catches in your chest and Yoongi kisses you softly, ignoring his body’s urge to move his hips.

“I love you too,” you whisper into his mouth, and something like “I’m sorry,” but he’s stopped listening after you’d confessed, his heart jolting in his chest.

He flips you over on your back, kisses playfully down your neck and he can’t stop smiling.

“Don’t cry,” he tells you, and you give him the most beautiful, watery smile.

After that, after your words and your smile it’s soft and slow and wonderful, he keeps kissing along your jawline as he moves inside you, across the bridge of your nose.

He hates having to pull out of you, it makes him feel disconnected from you somehow, but you roll over, throw your leg around his hip, nuzzle your face into his chest, and he feels like he can’t contain all the things he feels. He wants to mumble all the words he’s wanted to say to you most of his life but his eyelids are so heavy and you feel so soft and warm in his arms and before he knows it, there’s sunlight streaming through the window and the bed feels oddly cold.

He mumbles your name but after there’s no answer he figures you’ve gone to the bathroom, that you’ll come padding back, and when you don’t he sits up in bed.

After that, everything seems to move at the speed of light. Your luggage is gone, no sign of you at all except the smell of you on his sheets and when he calls you, you don’t answer. It takes a few hours before he calls Jungkook, wondering if you’d gone back, his chest feeling tight.

“I haven’t seen her since she left,” Jungkook says, voice hoarse, and Yoongi would almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for the ache in his throat, the panic churning his stomach. “She’s doing that study abroad thing, and she said she didn’t want me to wait for her.”

“That what?” It seems like Yoongi’s vision has narrowed to a pinpoint.

He barely hears Jungkook explaining that you’re studying abroad in England for a year, that you’ve disabled all your social media so that you can “really experience things.”

It takes another couple of hours before things sink in and suddenly something like anger rises in him so strongly that he can’t help himself, he rips the sheets off his bed, hating that they smell like your hair and your skin, throws his mattress against the wall and none of it makes him feel better.

He tries to distract himself with music, but that doesn’t help either, he just keeps hearing songs that you danced to at prom all those years ago, or some sad song that makes him think of the downturned corner of your mouth when you’d showed up at his door with your luggage and red rimmed eyes.

Whiskey seems to help more, makes him feel less present, adrift in a way that he usually hated but it was blissful, now, quieted his head and the pounding of his heart. It doesn’t last long, though, there’s always this line where he slips over comfortably buzzed into a downswing where all his emotions hit him at once, and around the fourth drink, he tries to call you again.

You don’t answer and there’s this lump in his throat he can barely breathe around when his phone buzzes with a text.

I’m sorry.

When you return from your trip abroad, you’re glowing and healthy and full of light in a way Yoongi has rarely seen you, and even though there’s something bitter in his throat the first time he sees you, he can’t help but fall back into being your friend again.

Being your friend and wanting more is something he got used to around age 13, so it isn’t as hard as he thinks it is going to be. At least not at first.

It gets a hell of a lot harder when you kiss him after his 23rd birthday party, your cheeks flushed with alcohol. It’s just a peck full on the lips but it makes his skin tingle, and then you do it again, and again, until he can’t help but take the back of your neck in his hand and slide his tongue into your mouth.

He eats you out with your legs on his shoulders and your ass up against the glass door of his apartment, out on the balcony, and he tastes you on his lips and tongue for hours after you fall asleep in his arms.

Yoongi tells himself he’s not watching you sleep, just making sure you won’t throw up after all the drinking you’d done, but he’s full of shit because he drank more than you and he keeps staring at your eyelashes fanned across your cheekbones, the way your mouth parts, the little whine you make when he shifts.

That’s how it starts, the benefits portion of your friendship, and you stop dating anyone else and Yoongi doesn’t want to ask what this is for fear that you’ll stop it, disappear from his bed in the wee hours of the morning like last time.

It’s a fragile balance he keeps by pretending he’s not in love with you anymore.

“So you guys are like, fucking on the regular now?” Jimin asks after he sees you leaving in Yoongi’s tshirt and a pair of cutoffs at 6am to get ready for work.

Yoongi shrugs. “I wouldn’t say regular.”

Taehyung and Jungkook are playing an oddly calm round of Smash on the floor, with Jimin on his phone, feet curled up on the couch next to Yoongi.

“Seems pretty regular,” Taehyung comments idly.

“I’m glad you two are finally together,” Jungkook says, and Jimin kicks him in the shoulder with the side of his foot, causing Jungkook to look back with an affronted expression.

Yoongi feels something flutter around his head but he ignores it, clears his throat.

“We’re not….together. It’s just...friends.”

“Friends with benefits,” Taehyung says, just as idly, knocking Jungkook off the screen.

Jungkook lets out a long breath. “They’ve always been more than friends. Right, hyung?”

He looks up with Yoongi with wide eyes and Yoongi feels a pang in his chest that he ignores.

Ignoring is something he’s gotten rather good at the last couple of months.

“Right,” Jimin says before he can speak, looking at Yoongi sharply. “Which is why this is a bad idea.”

“It’s none of your business,” Yoongi snaps back.

“Oh yeah? Like last year when she skipped the country after you fucked her and we had to watch you every second so you didn’t drink yourself to death for a full month?”

Yoongi draws in a deep breath. “It’s not like that this time.”

Taehyung shrugs, sitting down his controller. “If hyung says it’s not like that, it’s not like that.”

Jimin scoffs. “Right.”

“I think it’s a good thing,” Jungkook insists. “They’ll end up together and it’ll be a great story.”

“Jungkookie,” Jimin says with a fond lilt to his voice. “You’re so stupid.”

Jungkook tackles Jimin and that ends the conversation and Yoongi is grateful to be able to sneak off to his room and pretend he’s not washing his sheets because he’s lazy and not because he likes to smell your shampoo on his pillowcase when he falls asleep.

It goes on like that for weeks, six, not that he’s counting, when you ask him to come out with you to celebrate your work promotion.

It isn’t as if you’re going out on a date, Jimin and Jungkook are coming as well as some of your friends, but Yoongi feels nervous nonetheless, changing his clothes three times before settling on black slacks and a white button up.

He has to keep himself from running his hands through his hair when he and Jimin take an Uber to meet you at the club, and Yoongi almost wants to ask the driver to take him back home when he sees you through the window.

You’re wearing this crimson red dress that hugs your curves, low heels that show off your calves and thighs, and the brightest smile, hair up on top of your head, curls bouncing at your throat.

Yoongi feels like he’s been fighting this losing battle for the last six weeks and when you throw your arms around his neck, loose and already a bit tipsy from congratulatory drinks, he’s about ready to throw in the towel.

It goes on like that all night, you sticking to his side, touchy, even going so far as to plant a kiss on the back of his neck that gives him goosebumps, introducing him to all your friends with this big smile and your hand curled around his bicep, like you’re proud, and if he wasn’t ignoring how much he wanted you to, Yoongi could almost imagine that you were introducing him as your boyfriend instead of your best friend.

If Yoongi wasn’t spending so much time pretending not to love you, he might have noticed when things start to fall apart, that night, somewhere around his fifth beer. You’ve stopped being attached to him the past couple of hours and Yoongi misses the heat of your skin next to his suddenly, his mind hazy from drinking all night, and starts to look around for you.

Before he can find you, Jimin sidles up next to him, tugs at his hand.

“I think we should go home, hyung,” he says, and it’s not the drunk whiny tone he usually has, something different in it, and Yoongi frowns at him.

“What do you mean, go home? This is Y/n’s party.”

“I know, but she’s-she’s gonna go home too.” Jimin looks weird. He’s being weird and Yoongi just wants to find you and tell you goodbye but Jimin is hanging off him like a spider monkey.

When he finally catches sight of you, dragging his friend around the bar, the air goes out of his lungs in a long, pathetic whoosh.

Yoongi vaguely remembers being introduced to the guy who currently has his tongue halfway down your throat, some coworker of yours, Jay something,

“Oh,” he says, and his tongue and throat feel numb and slow and he doesn’t know if it’s from the alcohol or the way his heart has dropped to somewhere near his ankles.

“Hyung, let’s just go home,” Jimin says again, quieter, and Yoongi nods.

Jimin stays over, keeps watching him as if Yoongi is going to upend a container of bleach and Yoongi can’t blame him.

He isn’t sure if it feels better or worse than last time. Everything feels numb, and he’s a little worried that when the alcohol wears off it’ll all hit him at once so he doesn’t complain when Jimin climbs into bed with him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Yoongi says, his words slow and thick, after the lights are out.

Jimin finds his hand in the darkness and squeezes it. “No, hyung. You can’t.”

When Yoongi tells you that he can’t keep doing the physical part of your relationship anymore a couple days later, your bottom lip trembles just a bit and he wants to take it all back, pull you into his arms and change his mind entirely but he squeezes his fists at his sides instead.

“Yoongi,” you call before you leave. “Are you mad at me? Are we-are we okay?”

“We’re always okay,” he says softly, and he means it, there’s nothing he can think of that would tear him away from you.

It turns out his imagination just wasn’t big enough to imagine the fissure that happens a few years later.

There have been lulls in your friendship before, in college and after, but for three years nothing much happens. Yoongi only sees you a handful of times, lunch here or there, and most of your communication is via text or through social media.

You have a pretty big twitter following because you’re witty and gorgeous and maybe Yoongi checks it at least one time a day, but otherwise he’s busy and he doesn’t think about it too much. At least he tries not to.

One day he starts to get a lot of notifications at once, and he checks his phone in the middle of his day job (At Best Buy, which is incredibly boring but he can put in his earbuds and mix songs in between unloading boxes and helping customers decide which laptop is best to browse the internet on), and there’s all these tweets tagging you in congratulations.

Yoongi tilts his head, thinks about texting you to ask what the big news is, but instead traces it back to your page.

It turns out to be a simple tweet, a picture of you blowing a kiss to the camera with some guy with his head on his shoulder and Yoongi wrinkles his nose at the familiar sting of jealousy that pierces through him.

He’s used to it, you’ve dated off and on throughout your friendship and it isn’t like he likes it, knowing someone else is holding you at night, someone else’s dick in your mouth, but they never last long and you never take them seriously.

The caption underneath the picture is what makes him drop his phone, makes his manager ask if he needs to go home early.

He proposed. Should I say yes? ;)

Yoongi does go home, feeling adrift again, like he’s standing outside his body and watching himself drive home. He’s gotten a series of increasingly worried texts from Jimin and so he responds back to say that yes, he’s seen, and yes, he’s going home, and yes, he thinks it’s a good idea if he has company.

“It’s been three years,” Yoongi says, blankly, when Jimin sits down on the couch next to him.

“It’s been like, fifteen years,” Jimin says, and that isn’t helpful.

“No, I mean, since I last-since I said….I said it was over, that I wouldn’t think of her that way anymore.”

“I know,” Jimin says, and that’s a little more helpful.

“She’s never been serious with anyone before,” Yoongi says, still feeling blank, like he doesn’t know what he’s going to say until he says it.

“I know,” Jimin says again, pushing a cup of tea into Yoongi’s hands.

“Do you think she’ll really get married?” Yoongi looks over at Jimin as if he needs help, as if he’s drowning, and that’s exactly how it feels.

Jimin takes a deep breath and Yoongi braces himself for Jimin’s hard truths. It’s funny, Jimin, he’s so sweet and helpful, but he’s also always there to tell him when he’s being stupid.

“Have you ever actually...told her?”

Yoongi blinks at him. “What, that I--yeah. Yeah, I’ve said it.”

“What, when you were fucking?”

Yoongi chokes a little on his tea. “Well, not that it’s any of your business, but yeah.”

“Hyung, you can’t just confess during sex and expect her to take it seriously.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Jimin doesn’t argue with him, this time, just sips his tea with his shoulder against Yoongi’s and it does help and Yoongi is grateful to have him as a friend.

Yoongi just tries not to think about it too much the rest of the week, just sends you a quick text: congrats and goes back to work like nothing happened with his stupid cracked phone. It gets better and he’s able to ignore it for the most part until you and your new boyfriend (fiance, his mind whispers) show up at his job looking for a new phone.

“--family plan,” Yoongi hears him say through the rush of blood in his ears and he’s just staring at you and you have this puzzled smile on your face.

“It’s my break time,” Yoongi mumbles, and he takes off his nametag and throws it on the counter and leaves.

In hindsight, quitting his job and only means of income because he wanted to avoid being in love and having his heart broken for like, the seventeenth time was probably a dramatic and ill-advised idea.

He thinks this a week later when he’s moved in with Hoseok and he keeps staring at his phone, looking at your texts but not responding to them.

Hoseok, on the other hand, is the worst friend in the whole world and when you call him, answers right away.

“Oh, hello, Y/n!” He says in the loudest voice, and Yoongi winces from his spot on the couch.

Hoseok walks toward him and Yoongi makes all manner of gestures to tell him that he did not want to talk to you.

Hoseok ignores them all.

“Yoongi? Oh, sure! He’s right here!”

Yoongi glares at Hoseok when he takes the phone and Hoseok just gives him a dazzling smile.

“Hey,” he says, defeated, into the phone.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, like his name is some exalted thing, and he hates the way it makes his heart leap. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you so long. Did you move?”

“Uh...yeah, I moved in with Hoseok. I uh, changed jobs.”

“Oh. Are you...are you okay?”

“Fine,” he lies, like he’s not sitting in the same spot he’d been in for two days, watching TIkTok videos in an effort to think about anything other than you.

“I was hoping I could see you.”

Yoongi doesn’t know if he should. He doesn’t know if he can. Of course, he says yes immediately, and then after he hangs up chucks his phone at Hoseok who just won’t stop smiling.

You say you’ll come over the next day, with no time or anything, so Yoongi sleeps in, knowing that Hoseok will be working like all other gainfully employed people. Unfortunately, you’d always been an early riser, and he’s woken up by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Half asleep, he stumbles to the door, wondering if Hoseok had forgotten his keys or something, and when he sees you he rubs a hand across his face.

“Fuck. Hi.”

“Nice to see you too,” you snort, pushing past him. You’re carrying a brown paper bag that smells heavenly.

“Sorry, didn’t expect you so early,” he mumbles, peering into the bag.

You slap his hands away, and it makes him smile. He thinks maybe he can do this after all.

Then, when you open the bag and hand him his bagel with salmon spread, his favorite, he sees a little diamond twinkling on his finger and he sits down hard at the kitchen table.

You don’t seem to notice that the world seems to be tilting on its axis, just sit across from him, pushing the bagel closer to him.

“Eat. You look hungover.”

“I’m not...much,” he admits, thinking that the fourth glass of wine at dinner had maybe been a bad idea.

Yoongi eats mechanically and you don’t speak much, just watch him with an eagle eye.

When he’s finished, he meets your eyes.

“So, what’s up?”

“What’s up?” You huff out a breath. “You’ve been avoiding me for like, three years, and all you can ask is what’s up?”

Yoongi sputters. “I haven’t been...what are you talking about?”

“You like friends with benefits broke up with me and then kept cancelling all our dates and then you just walked out when I saw you at work.” You’re looking up at him, chin upturned like you’re angry, and all he can do is open and close his mouth like a fish.

“I didn’t...I didn’t mean to,” is all he can say, and he really didn’t. He just couldn’t keep spending time with you without wanting to kiss you and he thought that would pass but all this time, three fucking years and he’s barely seen you and all he can do now is wonder if you still taste the same.

“I just...I miss you, Yoongi. There’s some really big stuff happening in my life and you’ve always been there for it, and I want you here for this.”

“Oh,” Yoongi says, as if you’d splashed him with ice cold water. “Oh, yeah, you’re getting married.”

You beam at him, a real smile, that smile he’d been chasing his whole life, and instead of it breaking his heart it makes something like rage churn in his stomach.

“There’s no date, or anything, Jaehyun says-”

“I’m not coming to the wedding,” Yoongi says, getting up to throw away the napkin too aggressively, needing to do something with his hands. It feels like that night you left, all this anger rolling around him in useless waves.

“Yoongi….why not?” You stand up, follow him into the kitchen, and he’s just clenching his fingers at his sides, not looking at you.

“You never had a steady boyfriend that you gave a shit about,” Yoongi starts, and he honestly doesn’t mean to say it, doesn’t mean to say any of the things he says. “Even in college, that Jungkook kid, he was just a fun time, somebody to piggy back you around campus and make you feel good about yourself. I got that. I understood that. It was like that in high school, too.”

“Yoongi-”

“And then you told me you loved me.” Yoongi turns to look at you then and you’ve got your head down, shoulders slumped.

“Yoongi,” you say again, mournfully, but he can’t stop, it’s all pouring out of him now.

“You told me you loved me and I was so happy and then you just fucking left!” He’s shouting now and he lowers his voice, takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. I just...I’m not coming, okay?”

“Yoongi, you don’t understand,” you start, taking a step toward him, but he jerks when you touch his arm.

Everything feels like too much, his head too loud, the air too thin, but he feels like this needs to happen or he’ll explode, like if he doesn’t ask you that he’ll lose his mind and just hide in Hoseok’s apartment forever.

“I don’t understand,” he agrees. “I don’t understand because I thought you just didn’t do relationships, you just didn’t fall in love. You didn’t do commitment. That made sense to me. All this time, that’s how I felt better. But it isn't that at all. You just didn’t fall in love with me.”

His voice breaks and he hates himself for it, hates himself more for the moisture at the backs of his eyes.

“That’s not true!” You cry, and when he looks at you, there are tears streaming down your face.

His head is spinning and he doesn’t know how to answer you but he doesn’t have to, you just step closer and closer.

“I fell in love with you so many times,” you say, and Yoongi chokes on air, has to cough to clear his throat enough to take in another breath. “But you know me, Yoongi, I’m...I’m a mess. I’m a mess and I couldn’t risk…” You take in a deep shuddering breath.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, voice low and hoarse, and he can’t stop himself from reaching out to cup your cheek. “You’re not a mess.”

“I’m the biggest mess!” You cry, sniffling. “I’ve always been the biggest mess and you made me happy when no one else could and I couldn't...I couldn’t ruin that. I couldn’t ruin us. I couldn’t ruin you.”

“Y/n, you idiot, you’ve ruined me ten times over since the day I met you.” Yoongi says fondly, smiling, and you chuckle through your tears. When you move your hand to wipe your face, that diamond catches his eye again and he draws in a long breath. “If you want me to come to the wedding, I’ll be there.”

You look up at him, sharply, almost like you’re angry. “Yoongi. You’re the idiot. There’s not going to be a wedding.”

You lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him and he feels like he’s slammed back into his body for the first time in years.

There is a wedding, after all. You look beautiful in white and his palms are cold and sweaty just like when he’d pinned on your corsage at prom when he slides on your ring.

You don’t seem to mind, giving him that big open smile that he’ll spend the rest of his life chasing.

#min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi imagine #bangtanheadquarters #btsbookclub #ksmutclub #btscreatorscorner #wc: 7k #alcohol tw

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static-fanatic-1 · 4 years

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Is it alright to request hc or dranbles about Chimera Ants like Neferpitou, Meruem, Shaia, Yupi and so more?

I hope this is enough ;)

Meruem:

• This guy would be a scary Yandere, after all he is pretty much one of the strongest nen users to date.

• Meruem is intelligent and powerful, he has influence all over due to being the king. His royal guard will also be obsessed with you. They will protect you with their life and give up everything and anything to keep you with their king.

• Meruem will see you as a lesser being, almost like a pet except less degrading. He won't chain you or tie you up, instead he will use his power to force into submission. Fear will keep you in line and if it doesn't expect to be punished depending on your offense.

• If it was something small like a snarky remark he will simply give you a heart stopping glare. On the other hand if it is something worse like trying to run off or defying him, expect to be overwhelmed by his aura. He will emptily threaten you with his tail or his sharp claws until you are back in line. The Chimera Ant king will be ruthless, only he can hurt you.

• Anyone that even hopes to help you will be given hell. Family and friends won't be able to help you, and if they even dare to try they will be killed without second thought. He will set you on his lap while one of the Royal guardsmen takes them out.

• He would be extremely possessive and scary when angry. No doubt in my mind he would go all psycho crazy when angry. He'll lick his lips and give that really scary look he gave when first eating human flesh. His nen will spike and he'll love to watch you choke in his aura alone. Anyone near him that isn't you or a royal guard will be annihilated, even then he might accidentally attack and sever off a royal guards' limb.

• Bedding Meruem will be a one way street. He will be on top and you can't do anything about it. He will give you what you deserve with whatever he has on hand. I don't think he will use anything extra in bed, relying on his own strength and might to do as he pleases. Expect something rough when he is angry and something touchy when in a good mood.

• Keep in mind, if you are his darling you are dealing with more than just the top dog, you are dealing with the whole pack.

Shaiapouf:

• What a drama queen.

• Whenever you are around his heart will flutter in his chest, it will be as obvious as you would expect. He will place a hand upon chest and flutter his wings around, maybe even jumping around your form and singing how much he missed you.

•Shaia will do anything in his power to make you comfortable while in his 'care'. Do you want to listen to some music, good thing he is amazing at playing the violin. Are you sore from trying to escape, he would love the honor to massage your feet. Do you want to see other humans, you don't have to, he is the best cuddle buddy around and will wrap you up like a burrito in his wings!

• If you try to escape his grasp, as you will he stuck in whatever castle Meruem resides in, he will be hurt. He will make sure you are safe and okay, but he will punish you after. Though I don't see him being too rough with you.

• Speaking of punishments, you would have to do something really bad to earn it. Things like escaping successfully for some time, trying to kill him and doing some damage, and that's kinda it. I don't see him wanting to scar your skin, he loves the way you look and would be disappointed if something damaged your perfect complexion. He would probably manipulate you into feeling guilty, even if it is his fault your here in the first place.

• Once you've been degraded enough he will wrap you up in his arms and give you so much affection. If you say your sorry and you won't ever do it again, he will make sure you have the best day of your life.

• He would worship you in bed, a dark look in his eyes as he makes you feel amazing. I don't think he would do anything too crazy, pretty vanilla in my book. If he liked something it would probably be sensory deprivation. He would like to watch you writhe in pleasure without knowing what he will do next.

Menthuthuyoupi:

• probably wouldn't be able to tell he is a Yandere.

• Youpi is as he would act to the king, a devoted soldier and guardsmen. He wouldn't hesitate to protect you, and for him that is the norm. The only reason you might know he is all over you is because he is protecting a human.

• He will not understand why you are so perfect to him, I mean you are human, pretty useless to anything he wants to do.

• Still, he finds himself interested and without hesitation he kidnaps and keeps you close. Youpi doesn't care if you wonder around and if you escape he doesn't care either. He'll just get you back, it isn't anything difficult.

• I honestly don't think he would get angry, I see him being extremely patient when it comes to you, but if someone else is involved, expect he'll. He wouldn't take it out on you, no he's more like a very jealous boyfriend. Everyone else around you would be slaughtered and consumed.

• He would probably wonder why you are crying about the people he killed, or not being around other humans. He would defiantly ask Pitou what's wrong, after all they are the best with human emotions.

• He would try to console you, it would be very awkward as he will be confused the entire time. If it doesn't work the first time he most likely won't do it again and instead will pull you close and hold you in his arms.

• This dude is both beefy and big, so he would be gentle. In bed he would let you take the lead, so you would initiate it. Youpi wouldn't have the best idea on what to do so he would do what you want him to do. The thing is he wouldn't do anything really weird without you telling him to, but his body can do whatever so any freaky body stuff is what he'll be good at. After some practice he would be able to take initiative, and if he does he'd probably be rough but with restraints. After all he wouldn't want to break you.

• Youpi would be pretty lax with you, though that doesn't mean he is any less Yandere. The Chimera Ant wouldn't let anyone near you, and I actually see him going semi feral if something happened to you. He is like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Neferpitou:

• They are so sweet to their obsession, always doing their best to make them feel better about their situation.

• They care deeply about how you feel, and will do all the small, romantic things humans typically do in order to make you feel as if you belong. They will cuddle with you and smother you in affection whenever they get the chance.

• Pitou will be both top and bottom in the relationship. Either they will wrap you in their arms and tail or they'll be curled in your lap purring the night away.

• They will always want you near and will constantly ask if you are okay. Your feelings are a top priority. She will dote on you like a proud parent and will constantly gift you things whenever you feel down. Even if those things are relatively grim, like a head or something.

• I believe they understand how emotions works for humans, but I still think they'll slip up and do something questionable from time to time. Maybe their gift was the head of a human they killed that day, the one that tried to break into the castle and harm you. Or maybe they sniff your hair or lick a strip of your neck out of nowhere. If you act negatively they'll keep that in mind, but they might slip up and do it again.

• Pitou in bed might be a little strange. I have a feeling they would praise you constantly while also checking on you to make sure you are okay.

• Despite being relatively nice they will keep you glued to their hip at all times. They will be touchy without noticing and will give a death glare to any stranger who gets too close. They will let you wonder around the castle where they are staying at, but they will be with you no mater what. The only people they will trust would be the other royal guardsmen and the king, but even then they'll whine until it's them with you.

Chimera Ant Queen:

• Being the first Chimera Ant and the mother of many evil children, she'll be very similar to Meruem.

• She will have little concept of human emotions despite understanding human behaviors a bit. She'll pretty much only have motherly instincts and the thirst for human flesh. If she finds you to be good company she will hold you close and nibble on your exposed flesh and compliment your taste.

• Be warned, she will be delusional to an extent, wanting so deeply to eat you and keep you alive at the same time. She will constantly trace her claws and mandibles against your neck and waist. Probably your legs too.

• She won't allow you to wonder the premises like her prized son, she will keep you with her until death do you part.

• Speaking of till death do you part, she will eventually eat you, and the Chimera Ant with your DNA will be her new favorite child. She will dote on them and tell them how perfect they are because their DNA was from the perfect human.

• It doesn't matter if you had nen or if your "daughter/son" has it either. They will be the favorite and will be protected in the name of the Queen.

Zazan:

• The reason people say "If she breathes, she's a thot".

• Imagine she takes over Meteor City like she planned, the entire city being controlled by human feasting Chimera Ants. And her eyes land on you.

• If you end up being her obsession you won't be going anywhere. Anyone who follows under her new world order will know to keep you safe and close to their new queen. That or she'll probably have their head.

• No matter what you will be around one or more of her personal guards—whoever they may be. If you are not around one of them you are with her.

•She is such a princess, if she asks you to do something you should probably do it. I can easily see her treating her obsession like a pet of sorts, maybe a collar and leash to spice things up.

•Defiantly full of herself, thinks she is better than everyone and adores it when you tell her that. She will be wrapping her tail around you and holding you on her lap wether you be a gal or guy, to her you are a weak, lesser being.

•Even by the standards of humans she is rather nice to look at, and she knows it. She will always flaunt her looks without care and will use it to embarrass and tease you. Placing one of your hands upon her chest? She won't hesitate if it gets you flustered.

• Sleeping with her would be pretty strange if you aren't into it. She would use rope or handcuffs to keep you under her. Master play would be her thing for sure, possibly even some bottom dominance for she's in the mood.

•Getting away from her will be difficult as she will have Chimera Ant followers—possibly even some human ones. Zazan loves you, and when she is the queen, you are her concubine. Her favorite concubine.

Colt:

(Not my art; couldn’t find a gif.)

• Really possessive.

• Out of everyone I see him being the most open when it comes to his possessive/protective nature. He will defiantly be most likely to keep you locked in a room or cage of sorts.

• Everything he does is for your protection. You won't be seeing any family or friends anytime soon when he first starts out. He will ask Peggy what humans need to eat and what they shouldn't. Not to mention everything else Peggy can find on human health.

• Colt will follows the books to a T and will make sure you don't do anything different. He will practically control every aspect of your life.

• The only reason I see him allowing you to see your family is because you have cried so much or you refuse to take care of yourself. Despite being so controlling he has a big soft spot for you. He will take you to see your friends or family but that is probably it.

• Getting down and dirty with him is something I can't really imagine unless you ask him for it. Usually he will just wrap his arms and wings around you and go to bed, but if you are asking for more I think he would be a controlling vanilla. He will probably take a nervous lead and please you, but I don't see him doing anything strange.

• Colt is really loyal, so you don't have to worry about him loosing interest. Period.

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere meruem #yandere shaiapouf #yandere menthuthuyoupi #yandere neferpitou #yandere chimera ant #yandere pitou #yandere youpi #yandere pouf #yandere zazan #yandere colt #yandere chimera ant queen #yandere x reader

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jobean12-blog · 4 years

Note

Hello my love ❤ hope I'm not bothering you with many requests, but could I request something where Reader and Bucky are quarantined together in her apartment and reader has to go out shopping but she is yelled at by the next door neighbor and Bucky hears everything and defends her, he later suggests they have the loudest sex possible since the neighbors bedroom is a shared wall? (The yelling literally just happened to me because I took some trash out without gloves and mask) I love you ❤❤❤❤

Let’s Make Some Noise!

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 977

Summary: Your neighbor sucks but Bucky has a great way to get back at him.

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request my love and your patience with me writing it! I hope it makes you smile! I’m so sorry your neighbor is being a dick, I’m sending you a deliciously beefy Bucky to set him straight! Thank you all for reading! Much love❤❤❤

Warnings: a shitty and nasty neighbor, cursing, sweet and cheeky Bucky, implied smut, flirting and teasing, protective Bucky :)

You stomp back into your apartment and slam the door, dropping the grocery bags with a loud thud. Bucky runs out of the bathroom in his towel, eyes wide with worry when he asks, “hey doll, you ok? I heard banging and the door slam, I got nervous.” It takes you a moment to focus with Bucky’s broad chest on display, your eyes following the line of hair starting between his pecs down to the towel at his waist.

“What?” you ask in a breathy voice. Bucky smirks, but repeats his question, “you ok? You came in like a dinosaur!” You slide down the closed door, sitting with a huff before giggling at his dinosaur reference. “Well, I went out to get the groceries and I saw our neighbor in the apartment next door. He was so nasty! All I did was walk up the steps with the groceries and head to our door!”

Bucky walks toward you and kneels, “why didn’t you call me to help you with the bags, I told you to let me know when you got back.” A drop of water rolls down his cheek and falls onto your arm, making you flinch from the coldness. “You were in the shower,” you reply with a gulp, trying to keep your eyes on his.

“I’ve noticed that guy has been a jerk before, he always gives me dirty looks whenever he sees me. I don’t know what his problem is, but he is asking for me to kick his ass.” You drop your head between your knees with a sigh, “who the hell knows!” Bucky stands and offers you his hand, helping you up. “Come on, I’m gonna get dressed then we’ll put these groceries away and make some dinner.”

You watch him walk away, leaning to the side to catch a better glimpse of his ass. “Damn,” you whisper, knowing full well he probably heard you. Shrugging your shoulders, you start to clean off the food and put it away, Bucky joining you to help only minutes later.

“What do you want for dinner?” you ask. Bucky looks down and realizes he’s holding pizza dough, “wanna make a pizza!?” he asks with a big smile! You happily say yes, forgetting about your neighbor as you and Bucky chop up toppings and make a sauce. “This smells so good Buck!”

After eating all the pizza and some ice cream you sit back with a lazy yawn. “I am stuffed, but boy was that good!” Bucky nods enthusiastically before taking in the mess around your kitchen. “Dishes are such a bitch!” he whines, and you smile. “I GOT GARBAGE!” you yell before he does, and he groans. “DAMMIT y/n! Now I gotta do the dishes!” You snicker and stick your tongue out, standing to collect the dishes. “Sucks to be you!”

Bucky grumbles something under his breath you don’t quiet catch before he walks to the sink to start washing. As you’re cleaning up the garbage, he occasionally flicks his fingers at you, splattering you with soapy water. “You are such a pain in the ass you know that! This isn’t a wet tee shirt contest!” Bucky goes quiet, his eyes still on you. “Well, we know who would win that,” he says quietly, his eyes flitting down to your chest. Giving him a triumphant smile, you waggle your eyebrows, “you’re gonna need a lot more water Buck.”

He cracks a smile, slowly reaching for the spray nozzle on the sink. Your eyes go wide as you frantically try to think of an escape route. You lunge for the full bag of garbage, grabbing it and taking off for the door. The back of your shirt gets wet just as you hit the living room, screaming, and giggling when you open the door.

Slamming it shut you start to head down the stairs to throw out the garbage. Before you reach the first step your neighbor’s voice fills the quiet hallway, “hey you little bitch, will you keep it down, what the hell is all this noise!” You turn and glare, opening your mouth to speak but before you can Bucky is out in the hallway and fuming.

“Listen up, buddy. I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but you better leave my girl alone. I’m tired of your bullshit. She hasn’t done anything wrong. Don’t you ever speak to her that way again. If you have something to say, then say it respectfully!” Bucky’s shoulders are tense and his jaw is set in a hard line as he stares down the neighbor.

Finally, he backs toward his door, giving you both one last dirty look. Bucky rushes over to you and grabs the garbage bag from your hands. He sprints down the steps, throws it out and takes them two at a time back up. “Let’s go!” he says, taking your hand and walking you back in your apartment. “What a fucking asshole that guy is! I’m sorry I didn’t do something sooner; I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

He pulls you into his chest and wraps you in a hug, “sorry, doll. Fuck him.” You snuggle in deeper and let out a sigh, “I know, I just don’t get it. Maybe he needs to get laid!” You giggle, burying your face further in his shirt to hide your blush.

Bucky lifts your chin with his finger, his eyes dark, “actually, I think that’s exactly what needs to happen.” You simply stare up at him as he walks you back to your bedroom, his sweatpants doing little to hide his growing arousal. “Bucky…what are you doing?” He gives you a gentle nudge and you fall on the bed, his body covering yours. “I’m gonna make you scream so fucking loud that bastard is gonna be sorry he ever moved in!”

@aesthetical-bucky @bugsbucky @buckys-broody-muffin @book-dragon-13 @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hawksmagnolia @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @scarletsoldierrr @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky smut #protective!bucky #sebastian stan

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howdoyousleep3 · 4 years

Note

holy shit k I am so ridiculously desperate to hear more about the tiny steeb/big bucky au because that’s my fuckin jam !!! size difference ftw

😍😍😍 I’m going to use this as a way to answer a few Asks in one if you don’t mind!

I received this Ask today and another nonnie sent in this—“Idk but that p0rn rec just had me thinking about tiny Steeb and big Bucky— i think it was the bigger guy being submissive n soft is what got me and I was immediately reminded of ur big sweet boy who may be beefy af but fuckin whipped for his tiny bf…”

And yes I had the same thoughts! Steve would love to do something like this and Bucky would melt for it. Steve has such pretty fingers, meant for gentleness and broad strokes and delicately handling charcoal, but they feel so goddamn good around Bucky’s cock.

This is one of Steve’s favorites, just slowly jacking Bucky off, lesser body somehow draped over Bucky’s burlier one, mouth casually dripping with encouragement and filth. Bucky lets out the prettiest noises when he comes but these slow and close and simple times produce the softest noises.

These two love mutual masturbation. They love it when Steve sits in Bucky’s lap, love it when they’re lounging around on the couch, when they’re laying in bed on a Sunday night. Bucky is the one that has to wrap them up in one big bear paw though. Steve’s hands aren’t big enough.

Steve doesn’t like to be called small by anyone…but sometimes he craves it from Bucky. Sometimes he wants to be Bear’s little dolly, wants Bucky to talk about how delicate he is, how handsome he is, wants to feel Buck all over. Sometimes he wants to be opened up real slow, wants to sit in Bucky’s lap and ride him achingly slow while the brunette’s mouth runs, big hands sweeping up Stevie’s back.

I also received this Ask— “do you have any thoughts on lil old steve screwing the hell out of his bucky bear?” Of course I do, bug.

I personally feel like Steve is right at that perfect height to fuck Bucky standing while Bear is bent over the edge of the bed. It’s the perfect height for him to rub Bucky out, to get him comfy even bent in half, to get on his knees behind him and get his mouth at that pretty hole.

Steve loves eating ass, prayers up, and Bucky just goes so silly for it, cross-eyed and everything. Steve’s lips are fat and his tongue is eager and he goes at it with vigor and focus, a vocal lover, until Bucky’s damn near boneless in the sheets.

He’d stand behind Bucky, much smaller form feeling so very large, would kiss up Bucky’s back, would sink in real slow as he listened to Bucky whine, watched his fingers curl into the sheets.

He’d probably get up on his tippy toes to hit the right angle but anything for Bucky Bear.

And Steve just…just lays into Bucky. He always gives it to Bucky like no one can, gives it to him hard, deep strokes and sweet hands, so much attention it’s incredibly overwhelming in such a blissful way.

Steve Rogers’ mouth his filthy and gorgeous and it’s always the reason Bucky ends up reaching his orgasm. The encouragement is other-worldly, Steve willing to talk about all the things that Bucky thinks about but is too embarrassed to say out loud.

(“Gosh, Buck wish you could see what I see, wish you could see this pretty pink and the way it opens up all for me. That stretch is sweet isn’t it, Bear? S’a good stretch right there, god.”)

Extras:

Bucky gives Steve piggyback rides all the time, especially when Steve has had a little too much to drink.

Bucky’s blush is somethin’ fierce when Steve sends flowers to his work as a surprise.

Shower sex with Bucky just holding Steve in his arms as he fucks him into the slippery tile like he weighs nothin’, mouth on his jaw, Steve holding on for dear life.

Naps where Bucky lays on his back on the couch and Steve lays right on top of him, face tucked into a burly neck, fingers curling into the soft hair on the nape of Bucky’s neck.

Eskimo kisses.

Bucky’s head in Steve’s lap so he can get his hair played with by those graceful and capable fingers.

Thank you, nonnies! I love you all dearly and I hope you enjoy my answer. 😘😘😘

#askK

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mister-fleck · 5 years

Text

one bad day: arthur fleck x reader

prompt: “a nfsw one when he comes home after having a bad day.”

Arthur pushed a hand through his hair, turned over his wrist and sighed at the time displayed on his watch. The bus was nearly an hour late. It shouldn’t really surprise him — the drivers were underpaid and underfed, but it made his nerves grow regardless. He knew that you’d be worried if he wasn’t home soon. Perhaps grow weary with me. He mused, endlessly insecure. Perhaps grow angry.

It was your one month anniversary (something you had found silly, but Arthur cherished) and he was dying to be next to you. To hold you, to see your lips curl up into that smile you reserved just for him. Dismayed, Arthur shifted uncomfortably on the old wooden bench and continued to wait.

It didn’t help that his mother had been rushed to the hospital two hours previously. Arthur hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Killing those three men had been invigorating, mouthwatering — but plainly careless. He was responsible for somebody other than himself, always had been, and his first taste of crime had placed a roadblock in his daily routine and lessened his capability as a caregiver. Given the hysterical frailty of his mother, he knew it must have been elementary for the two detectives to send her toppling to the ground.

“Such a fool,” Arthur chastised under his breath. He should be home. With you. You were his home.

“Talkin’ to yourself there, big shoots?”

A gruff bark of a voice made Arthur’s thin shoulders jump in alarm. Green eyes lifted and scanned the immediate area before landing on two muscular gentlemen, both of whom were approaching him with a purpose.

Unsure of how to handle the abrupt confrontation, Arthur quirked his lips into a nervous smile and chose not to respond. He always found it wise to stay quiet, stay compliant. He inhaled deeply. Grimaced. Gotham absolutely reeked with this garbage strike.

It was the second man’s turn to speak. They were only a few feet away now. “What’s that in your hand? A diary?”

Arthur looked down to the spiral notebook he kept curled in his fist, then back up at the strangers. He felt the familiar sensation of dread crawl up along his back and spread ice-cold throughout his chest.

“Just a creative journal,” he managed, feeling small. “Jokes.”

Within moments, Arthur was sandwiched between the two of them — the bench definitely not wide enough for three men to sit comfortably— and he felt his throat go tight.

“Let’s have a look, shall we?” The first man grunted, and his movements were so sudden that Arthur didn’t get a chance to react as the journal was ripped away from him.

Arthur’s face twisted sadly, brows furrowing, “Hey, p…please give it back —”

The man to his left, who smelled heavily of cheap whiskey and gasoline, snorted and shuffled roughly through the pages. “What the fuck is this shit? I have generalized anxiety disorder, but it sucks because it affects me specifically.” A pause. “Is this supposed to be funny?”

If Arthur had been any other man, in any other city, he would have asked himself why he was being harassed for just… existing.

Just then, something fluttered out from between the pages and fell to the ground at Arthur’s feet. A tattered black and white polaroid photograph — of you.

Immediately panicked, Arthur leapt forward to grab it from the grimey Gotham concrete (how Murray Franklin could call this city beautiful, he’d never understand) but a large, muddy boot stomped on top of it, halting his efforts.

“Hey!” Arthur croaked, his throat beginning to spasm painfully. He swallowed hard, a desperate attempt to stop the inevitable. “Stop that!”

The man to Arthur’s right snatched the photo from beneath his boot and wolf-whistled, “Now who do we got here?” His eyes lingered a moment too long. “A friend of yours?”

No longer caring about his journal, Arthur put all of his energy into trying to get ahold of the picture, pulling at the man’s beefy arm.

This photo meant everything to Arthur. It was the only tangible reminder he had to convince himself that you were real. That you existed. That you weren’t some… fantastical hallucination.

“That’s my girlfriend,” Arthur tried to defend, but it came out in a ragged, choked laugh. “Give — Give it — Give it back —“

Both men eyed Arthur before breaking into greasy chuckles themselves. “Can’t even say it with a straight face, can ya?” The one to his right mocked. “Like you could land a broad like this.” He grabbed at his crotch and grunted. “I’d love to give her a good dicking, wouldn’t you, Brad?”

The one named Brad swiped the photo — just out of Arthur’s reach — before grinning. “Hell yeah. I’d show her what a real man feels like. Poor bitch has probably never been properly fucked, I mean look at this guy —”

Through his strangled laughter, Arthur managed to give Brad an aggressive shove into the lamp post beside them, positively enraged. His palms itched. Fuck. He had left his gun at home. It was starting to rain.

Before Arthur could take another step further, he received a deep blow to the gut, followed by one to the side of his jaw — an unforgiving one-two punch that left him gasping for air on the ground.

Head spinning, Arthur heaved out a laugh that tore up his throat, tasting blood in his mouth. He saw Brad make his way over and readied himself for punishment when police sirens went off nearby. The two men froze, hesitated, then tossed Arthur’s belongings to the ground before tearing around the corner to get away from what could be an arrest.

A foreign sense of relief crashed over Arthur. Had somebody actually stopped to help him? He heard the gravelly noise of wet tires against pavement. The sirens cut off. Still convulsing with laughter, Arthur lifted his head off of the dirty sidewalk and made eye contact with the policeman, an older gentleman sporting a mustache.

“Th... Thank you —”

Arthur would never forget the look of genuine disgust on the officer’s face as he wordlessly drove away.

The bus never came.

Thirty minutes later, Arthur was limping into his apartment elevator, drenched in rain water. Sneakers and socks soaked from puddles. Lip busted, ribs bruised. Photograph safe in his pocket. No longer laughing.

He had tried to focus on you on his walk home. On how light you made him feel. On how you belonged to him. But the mocking phrases from earlier rattled around his skull despite his efforts to push them away.

What a real man feels like. Arthur angrily scrubbed a wet hand over his face, his face tight with frustration. Never been properly fucked.

Shoving his keys into the lock of his apartment, Arthur began to breathe heavily, jaw set. “I’ll show them properly fucked.”

—

There was no way to prepare yourself for Arthur when he stormed in unannounced. You had been pacing wildly in his kitchen, stomach in knots, gripping one of the throw pillows from your his couch just to have something to cling onto. He was two hours late. This was nothing like your Arthur.

You knew how cruel the world was, just as well as he did. How when the sun went down, crime went up when it came to Gotham City.

Although it made your heart plummet, you weren’t surprised to see dried blood across Arthur’s cheek — but the absolutely deadly look splashed across his usually gentle little face — that gave you pause.

“Arthur, where were you — mmf!“

Like some sort of sinister ballet, Arthur smoothly kicked the door closed behind him, shed his water-sodden jacket and shoved you against the fridge with a bruising kiss. His hands moved from cradling your face to gripping hungrily at your hips to scratching wildly at your sides — he was everywhere, all over you.

The deep-seeded concern that had been holding you hostage melted away, but the relief of knowing Arthur was safe didn’t hinder your trembling — that only increased, especially with the way Arthur was nipping sharply at your bottom lip.

“You’re mine,” he gritted out, kissing and biting an aggressive path down along your throat now. “My girl.”

Absolutely panting, you gripped at him, fingers tangling in his wet hair. His unrelenting kisses were making you light-headed. “Baby…” Lashes fluttering, you pressed your body up into him and let out a soft mewl as he bit harshly at your shoulder. “Fuck!”

Arthur pulled back, green eyes wild, and hoisted you onto his kitchen counter with a strength you weren’t aware he possessed.

“That’s right,” he husked, his voice an octave lower than what you’re used to. He took a moment to lick his lips and drink you in, seeming to just now realize that you were only wearing one of his dress shirts. It fell just short of your bare knees.

He raised an eyebrow, an entirely different man now, and yet still so beautifully Arthur.

You blushed under his stare, trying to explain yourself, but it wasn’t anything eloquent: “It smells like your cologne.”

Without another word, Arthur slid his hands up underneath the dress shirt, hooked his fingertips around the hem of your panties, and yanked them off.

You had never gotten so wet so quickly.

The two of you had made love before, three times exactly, each time sweet and experimental and a little needy, but this — the way Arthur was now on his knees and aggressively spreading your legs — this was a side of him you had never seen before.

Lifting your legs so they rested over his shoulders, he growled at you. “Hold on to me.”

His mouth was hot against you, lapping broadly, and a gasp tore out of your chest. You scrambled to grab ahold of his shoulders, his head, anything to keep you from falling down as pleasure crashed over you. He was eating you greedily and your body was on fire. “Arthur, god…”

Arthur moaned against you, a rumbling vibration that made you whimper breathily, one of your hands bunching up the fabric of his damp shirt, the other tugging at his hair. His fingernails dug into your thighs and you wondered through a pleasured gasp if he would bruise you.

You were going to cum soon, it was evident in the way your own whimpers went up in pitch, and Arthur seemed to force himself to stop. He pushed up onto his feet and began to undo the buckle of his belt.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded, unzipping his pants and swatting away your hands when you tried to help him. You groaned at the sight of him. He was so hard. He grabbed your face and forced you to look him in the eye. “Tell me.”

“You, baby.” Your chest swelled with the darkest kind of love as you trembled, reaching forward to push hair out of his face. Arthur’s lips and chin were wet and it was the most handsome you had ever seen him. “I’m a-all yours.”

And with that Arthur slammed into you, looking crazed and satisfied, an animalistic groan ripping out of his throat as he adjusted to how wet and tight you were around him. “All mine.”

With everything so heightened and sensitive, you had to bury your face in Arthur’s hair, arms wrapped around his shoulders as he finally began to fuck you. “Oh my god, Arthur…!”

His pace was brutal, as was his grip on your waist and somewhere in the back of your mind you heard dinner plates slide off the counter and shatter at Arthur’s feet.

You’d make him dinner again some other time.

#joker #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #joker movie #joker x reader #drabble

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morphituu · 4 years

Text

Milagro

Chapter 22: Rehearsals

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21

“Maaaama, mi amore- say mama,” Callie encouraged, her shirt clasped in Leo’s hold and a wide smile clamped around a melting teething chewy. The round, golden eyes locked on Callie still glimmered with unshed tears after waking from a nap following a sharp tooth breaking through his gums, but now his short legs kicked excitedly when she squealed like he after some numbing gel was lathered across his swollen pads.

“Oh my osito,” she sang, giggling when his staticky voice spiked into an excited shriek after she laid him across her chest. With any luck he'd catch the last of his afternoon nap and not completely derail his schedule the night before they left him. With one hand rhythmically patting his bottom in tune with a gentle song she hummed, the nails of her other dragged down his thick stripe of sandy colored locks, thick and tangled as hers always was.

Leo’s sleepy growls wound down to soft grunts, his little mouth pursing when he sucked on his tongue.

Her bottom lip quivered. To think she'd go four days without kissing this face or hearing his voice almost made her call off their already brief honeymoon despite desperately needing the break, not to mention the alone time she so craved from her husband to be. Quickies were fun in the moment, but when she'd have to walk right back out and balance Leo on her hip and a stack of laundry and dishes in the other arm, the yearn for a quiet, post-sex cuddle session resounded loudly in her bones.

“You know we’ll be back, right Leonardo? You won't even notice us you'll have so much fun with abuela y abuelo,” she smiled, recalling all of the toys Oleg had gone out to purchase in preparation for his grandson's extended visit, excitedly sending pictures to Nick every time he found something new.

Callie giggled, her eyes drifting up. She gasped softly, looking down at Leo. “Guess who's back?”

Her door swung open and Leo’s head craned back to find Nick placing their contribution to the dinner at her feet, a smile spreading across his gummy face immediately.

“What's with those sad eyes?” Nick pouted, reaching for Leo.

“His tooth broke through,” she handed him over, their son rubbing his tired eyes against Nick’s chest after being leaned into the crook of his beefy arm. Nick groaned, rubbing Leo’s back.

“I feel bad we're taking off right when this starts,”

“Me too,” Callie sighed, pushing her messy hair back from her face. “I keep rethinking it,”

Nick’s head lifted with a pout. “You don't wanna go anymore then?”

She exhaled loudly, shaking her head. “I really wanna go but I don't think the guilt will go away so I just gotta suck it up and deal with it,”

“We’ll only be a few hours away,” he reassured, a comforting squeeze left on her knee before he carried Leo to the backseat. Nick wiggled his face between Leo’s round cheek and shoulder to elicit bubbly giggles, his affections unyielding even after his son was safely strapped in his seat again, not until Callie reminded him that they were needed elsewhere.

A final squish of his cheeks, and Nick was off to the drivers seat again.

“Let’s do this,” he chimed, the dark clubmasters hiding the excited glint in his yellow eyes.

The weather was ideal for the windows to stay down, a soft breeze drifting through the cab that neither worried about overwhelming Leo as long as the traffic stayed this slow, but neither minded that, either. Nothing- not even that Callie’s dress had been delivered with a rip in the seam, could dampen their moods that day.

For weeks, more notably the sleepless nights they'd planned this and endless trial and error from music to food to seating, keeping enough excitement alive until their day came, and through rejections from churches that deemed their union unholy to now having a backyard wedding at his parents that a shocking number of family wasn't arriving to, they were here, the day before their wedding, and Callie couldn't shake the warmth that had held in her cheeks all day.

The butterflies fluttered about her stomach, bubbling in her throat when she tried to speak. As usual he held her hand while they drove, but now more than ever he toyed with her singular ring that would soon have it’s pair. When they stood in line to pick up Leo’s fitted outfit, he brought her decorated hand up to his lips to kiss shamelessly before the humans that rolled their eyes in disgust, further stirring the churning excitement before she leaned into his side to hide her blush.

Callie’s head landed against his arm rested over the center console, his big hand landing on her leg. Nick kissed her head while he drove, his thumb tracing the supple skin of her freckled thigh.

Callie grinned then. “I hope this song plays tomorrow,” she noted the raunchy beat bumping softly through the speakers.

Nick snorted. “Someone's uncle is gonna grind on someone's aunt,”

She giggled harmoniously, her face rotating in to hide against his bicep. Nick egged her on, the dirty comments flushing her cheeks and leaving her breathless as they drove leisurely along the backroads. At red lights he made it a point to steal kisses, his hand leaving the steering wheel to hold her jaw when a taste of her tongue became too tempting to refuse. They were honked at a few times, but Nick blew them off, telling his pretty fiancée “this is why we should've put the cans on the truck today”.

Their bantering settled enough to let silence pass between them, listening to Leo babble against his crinkly blanket or exclaim when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

“Did Ward tell you what you guys are doing tonight?” she asked, pulling her hair over her shoulder when it whipped before her face.

“He won’t even give me a hint,” Nick huffed, endlessly worried they’d end up at a strip bar. “What about Rosie?”

“Just a girls night at her house,” she shrugged, hiding her excitement. A night to kick back with her feet up and gossip? With unproblematic people? It’s fucking paradise, she’d clarified to Nick when he was confused as to why bachelorette parties weren’t rambunctious like the mens. “I’m not drinking until the reception though,”

“Is it the Orkish champagne?”

She moaned, her eyes closing as saliva pooled in her mouth. “Forget the food, just hand me another glass of it when mine is empty,”

“One glass will have you on your ass, mama,” he reminded, peeking at her from over his clubmasters.

“Good thing my husband will be there to carry me away from the judging eyes of the public,” she said, her chin balancing on his shoulder as he pulled into his parents' driveway. The street was lined with their guests, the chatter from the backyard heard over their engine.

“Only because my wife is the fairest in all of LA,”

She pouted. “Just LA?”

“Who even matters outside of LA?” he asked.

“You’re right.” She leaned in for a quick kiss.

The pair went about gathering Leo from his seat and his numerous bags they’d store tonight in preparation for the following day, including a bouncer and swing. He was excited as ever when Callie lifted him from behind the buckles, the teething toy in his grasp. It took only three months for Leo to reach a girth that Callie could carry on her hip like a six month old, his head unwaveringly steady and held upright as he learned the world around him. Their pediatrician warned he’d fly through milestones faster than they could record, so when Leo started angrily gnawing on their hands and crying through the night, it took them some time to figure out he was simply teething when they’d normally not expect it until later. Moments were cherished with greater excitement after they realized how quickly Leo was growing, and how brief this baby stage would be.

It wasn’t until they’d at last received the results of his genetics test were they able to find some peace of mind knowing when he’d hit a year, this rapid aging would slow drastically.

Being seventy-six percent Orc meant doctors felt confident leaning towards the likelihood that Leo’s growth would match that of a full-blooded one, but the moments remained bittersweet for the parents. In the blink of an eye Leo went from being a wiggling newborn to a hefty calf able to sit up on his own and mimic their mouths when they spoke to him.

His yellow eyes tracked and narrow in on objects he wanted, his colored hands able to pick items, and Nick’s ear was always on the menu of items he loved to gnaw on.

At the call of his name he’d turn his head, and a smile would grace his lips when it was either of his parents. Callie would walk from corner to corner with him between her feet, his grasp tight around her fingers and his feet dragging less everyday he built up the muscles of his strong legs. When he’d be done from such an exerting exercise, a frown up at Callie would signal his reluctance to waddle any farther.

The pouts and angry chuffs were Nick’s favorite. He’d gnaw Leo’s thighs and roll him side to side just to see his little face snarl, a sharp cry rattling in his throat before he’d clamp onto Nick’s arm. Now that the sharp fangs were coming in, he found instigating a fight with his vicious little boy wasn’t in his best interest. It had only taken a few times for Leo to learn if he laid over his dad’s head, he was further defenseless, including those ears.

“Ah!” Leo exclaimed, reaching over Callie’s shoulder towards Nick. “Ahh!” he cracked again, looking at Callie.

“He’s comin’, don’t worry,” she assured, his chuff tickling her ear.

The door was cracked open upon walking up to it, and inside the furniture was already being moved around to create more space to linger around in.

“Late to her own rehearsal!” came Oleg’s booming voice, strutting in false intimidation from the hallway, but his angry scowl melted into a wide smile once Leo recognized him and reached.

“Is everyone here?”

“The booze went quickly,” he teased, walking toward the back of the house with Leo excitedly squealing in his grandpa’s arms.

“That’s what happens when you get Orcs and Mexicans together,” Nick commented, grunting his way in with all the bags slung across his arms and shoulders.

“They didn’t drink the champagne, did they?” Callie frantically asked, following Oleg and leaving Nick to topple over with Leo’s luggage.

Nick and Ward both sipped their beers alongside Matuk and Sergey, the summer sun having been unbearable until Dinara silenced the mens whining and dished out the cold drinks. But the sun still kept glaring down at them even as it drew near sunset, their shirts sticking to their skin and hunger growing. Dura had been the only one to be blessed with a chair at the front, her belly near bursting as her due date approached.

“Pay attention,” Dura hissed at Sergey, fanning her face with her sun hat.

“All I do is stand here-” he hissed back, silencing when Ward elbowed him.

“Can you shut the fuck up she’s about to come down,” Ward growled, jabbing his hand in the direction of the house.

“We’ve done this eight times, why do we need to be quiet?”

“He’s right, there’s no point,” Nick answered loudly, sipping his beer.

Ward glared at him in disbelief. “At your own rehearsal?”

“Look, they’re talking,” he pointed to Callie’s mom who sat beside Dyani and Joaquin, Leo and his mother coming to join them once she’d finished walking down the mock isle.

“Okay music, yada yada everyone stands, then Callie,” Dinara called, tip-toeing around the line of bridesmaids to stand beside Nick at the front.

It was just the rehearsal, and there was nothing to match how spectacular and dreamy it would be the following day, but Nick still smiled watching her walk down like that, a glowing smile on her face and hanging onto her father's arm. Nick tossed a kiss to her before she was even there, tipping his bottle back over his lips to hide a nervous smile when she winked at him.

For the eighth time, Nick shook Diego’s hand and accompanied Callie back to their spot at the front, his actions growing clumsier with every round.

“Pre-gaming?” she asked, smiling at Nick’s loose nod. She was sure his eyes were half-lidded behind his sunglasses.

“Okay dearly beloved and all that, they exchange vows, beads, rings and kiss,” Dinara recited from the front with Leo still in her arms, wiggling towards Nick when he made faces at him. He stopped only to peck Callie sweetly, snatching his son from his mother's arms. “And we’re done,”

There was a collective sigh of approval from everyone placed about in the wide yard, all of which were starved for the cool drinks and savory dinner laid out under the shade of the patio.

Sergey stumbled to Dura’s side and only laughed when she scolded him for already drinking himself into a cloud, but Callie was there to loop her arm around the expectant mother’s and assist in her waddle across the yard. Nick and Ward picked Sergey back up, leaving hard slaps on his back while they teased him over being a lightweight.

“I hope Morn feels better by tomorrow,” Callie pouted, feeling her friend's absence.

“She kicks shit fast, she’ll be good,” Ward answered. It was useless denying they’d become quite cozy with one another, especially when Nick had stopped by unexpectedly to find her wandering around Daryl’s house in his shirt. It was a sensitive topic, but Callie thought it sweet how lovingly he spoke of Morn when she wasn’t around. There was always the hint of a longing sigh somewhere in his words, a hardened pout pushing his mustache up.

“Was it a stomach bug? Daryl wasn’t feeling too good either,” Rosie noted, following her ear into their conversation.

“Was Dejza sick too?”

“Yeah I think that’s where she got the bug from. Grandparents wanted to see her,” Ward explained, finding a spot beside Nick once they all came up to the table. Leo perched on Nick’s thigh, reaching over to tap Callie’s arm so she’d talk to him as the others found their seats. The chatter of Callie and Nick’s chosen family was lively among their friends, the last minute preparations or concerns rising into question and then settling quickly. Food was passed through mouths as fast as the words, the plates filling just to empty minutes later for seconds and thirds. The men of Nick’s bachelor party were ordered to lay off the beer and instead fill up on food before their night of celebration and farewell, waving off their disapproving groans and wails.

By the time they were all dug into their meals, Leo was drifting in Nick’s arms with a bottle balanced on his chest, at last catching a nap to soothe away the throbbing in his gums they’d managed to mostly keep at bay all day with the chaos swarming around them.

When Leo spat out the bottle and rubbed his face, Nick took a final bite of the crispy pork ribs to lean back in his chair and cradle his son closer to his chest, a wide palm patting his bottom. Soft chuffs were the last of Leo’s attempts at consciousness before Nick’s purring did him in, his big eyes finally sliding shut.

Nick was lost staring at his son when Ward suddenly came into view, his ear almost close enough to press against his shoulder.

Ward snapped up, mild disbelief coloring his expressions. “Are you… vibrating?”

Callie laughed out loud, covering her mouth filled with food.

“Does Morn not purr?” Nick asked, Ward leaning away from him.

“P-purring? Y’all… purr?” he looked up hesitantly at the other Orcs around him who were unphased by his discovery.

“Does Morn really not?”

“No! I think I’d know if I heard somethin’ like that!” Ward exclaimed, returning to his meal with a shudder.

“I bet she does n’ it just puts you to sleep,” Sergey added, talking around a corn on the cob.

Daryl looked back to Nick. “Sophia always told me she reminded her of a cat and I thought it was cuz of the ears n’ shit,”

The table chuckled at that, their laughter heightening when Daryl again leaned into Nick’s chest to listen to the rumbles, even placing a hand flat on him to make sure it wasn’t some elaborate prank. The fervent manner in which everyone devoured the food calmed into small pickings here and there and the low rumble of chatter filling the backyard, everyone in their separate conversations or stories until Dinara pulled Nick's attention away from Callie and Rosie who spoke so fast, it only sounded like clicking.

“Ukmall, you’ll need to be here before eight to get Leo,” she informed, and his brows furrowed.

“So early?” he groaned, having fully expected a few hours to sleep off a hangover.

“Callie needs to get her hair done. The fumes are bad for him,” she scolded, and he looked back to his bride.

“You’re changing your hair?” he questioned with big eyes.

“Just a little bit,” she smiled, internally screaming. She’d come to this decision to alter her hair after talking herself out of going entirely blonde despite her curiosity for years pulling her the other direction, but now she wondered if he’d even notice.

“I guess I can get him,” he griped, leaning down to kiss Leo when Callie and his mother sucked their teeth in discontent.

“What time are people arriving?” Callie asked around Nick.

“Three, so we have a lot to do and a lot of cooking before people start showing up. That being said,” she grunted, standing at the head of the table with her glass of sweet tea raised. “I’d like to propose a toast and a thanks,”

Everyone hushed, reaching for their variety of drinks to hold up.

“We want to extend our thanks to Callie’s family who have graciously accepted us in, not to mention our son who came with a reputation,” she gestured at Nick, the table chuckling. “To everyone who’s helped and put up with my screaming,” she admitted to bashfully. “To my son, who I knew would be the father his own raised him to be, and now the husband I always knew he could be,” she smiled lovingly at Nick, his own grin goofy and adoring. Callie rubbed his arm, squeezing his wrist affectionately.

“And to Callie,” she cleared her throat, raising her glass. Callie’s smile dropped when she looked up, her anxiousness kicking into high gear. “It’s because of you my son smiled again, and it’s with your help he’s shown that beautiful baby in his arms such love. You weren’t only a gift in his life, but ours too, and no matter the paths you both might take from here on out, you’ll always have a place in our family. Cheeruk, mausan daughavas. Lat've bleukukun avhiuk famipak.” She finalized, her glass raised and Oleg following suit.

“I’d like to also say something,” Diego stood creakily, his age at last catching up to him after decades of back breaking work. He smoothed his hand down his church shirt, lifting his glass. “Mija, you haven’t always had the best of luck when it came to men, and to be honest I would’ve pulled my hair out if you had brought home another white boy,” he chuckled, the table following suit as Callie hid her face in despair. “But now I can rest easier at night knowing you have a man I would’ve hand-picked for you specially,” he tipped his head at Nick, the orc nodding once in return even though he was inwardly elated.

“I’m sorry the ones you were told growing up were your family didn’t make it here, but it’s their loss, cariña. If they can’t grow as much as you, let them leave. You’ve always been better than them. Nick,” he turned, startling his daughter’s groom.

“Thank you. You’re the standard I raised my daughters to expect, so thank you for taking care of her and Leonardo. I only want forever for you two.” He finished, his free hand resting on Luciana’s shoulder as she looked on at her daughter with watery eyes.

“I second that!” Rosie declared, Santi’s glass following his sister only to spill across the table's surface and onto her plate.

Her cheeks were hidden in her palms when they toasted, Dinara’s words whispered in translation into her ear by Nick after drinking to their parents speeches. He kissed her flushed cheek, promising the sincerity of her words. Her eyes wandered while Nick adored her secretly, watching their parents take turns hugging and speaking with smiles plastered across their faces. It helped ease some of the burns she’d been dealt when her family started RSVPing just to say they wouldn’t attend, and she wondered how much of it was because of Leo and how much was because of their choice to marry. Either way, she knew now who to keep up with.

The couple was dragged from their steamy bubble of secret kisses and whispers when Ward elbowed Nick insistently until he turned, motioning his head toward the door, but his hairless brows drew together.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, noting Ward’s lighter complexion.

He shook his head, waving his hand. “Drank too much,”

“They took our drinks-”

“Man let’s go!”

Nick turned back to Callie, a loose smile curling her lips.

“Is it time?” she asked, and he nodded, leaning in for another lengthy kiss. “If I get a call from Jake that one of his girls is shaking their asses in your face I’m gonna make sure you can’t make anymore babies,” she warned quietly, trying not to laugh when he gagged.

“I hid a nanny cam in the house so if I see a male stripper shoving his junk in your face I’m gonna throw you in the ocean,” Nick cracked back.

“I can’t swim!” she giggled, trying to frown.

“Yeah, you’ve been warned,” he kissed her before she could respond. “I love you, have a good night and be safe,”

“You be good,” she reminded, pursing her lips for another kiss before he lowered Leo into her arms and smooched him goodbye. “No tequila,”

He sucked air through his teeth, pointing at her. “I can’t promise that,” and he was off, following the others into the house after kissing his mom on the head. They grew rowdy once separated from their lovers except Matuk who was as stoic as ever, and they could be heard causing a commotion all the way to the cars until they were off.

“Ten bucks says they don’t make it past midnight,” Rosie announced.

“Make it twenty,” Oleg raised his beer, his bright smile tightening when Dinara elbowed him in the side before making her way over to Callie as the rest of their guests found separate conversations to delve into.

“Callie, I’d like to show you something we picked up today,” she said under her breath, tugging on her elbow.

“Oh?” she piped, tapping Rosie’s shoulder so she could deposit her hefty son into her arms. Rosie doted over him lovingly, endless kisses pressed into his cheeks as he was roused from his nap, but that would be her problem, now. By the time Leo was awake and gnawing angrily into his tia’s cheeks in retaliation, Dinara had led Callie into her room where the bed was lined with pressed and covered clothing, some decorations and linens hung over the small bench at the end. Callie wandered, her hands gravitating towards the colorful flowers protected in plastic boxes.

“Here, look,” Dinara called from the desk at the corner of the room.

The small lamp was flipped on when Callie was at her side, watching as she lifted the lid from a silver box carefully, but upon removing the satin material protecting whatever was underneath, her hands moved even more gingerly than before until a shining, silver plate looked up at them. Orkish letters were carved deep into its face, but the polished grooves were clean, elegant.

“Marriage Armor, it’s called. The bride wears the plate with her new name upon her back and the groom wears the bride's zodiac on his shoulders and chest,” she explained, a smaller pouch that she had in the top drawer of the desk emptying into Callie’s palm. The charms were attached to thin, dainty chains, and carved from a deep, grey metal shaped into bull heads.

Callie smiled, studying their details. “Nick will wear these?”

“Mhm. You’ll both wear the bracelets that are exchanged, but those are kept for the day of. Right now we need to get this on you to make sure it fits,” she explained, opening the pouch so Callie could deposit the charms back inside.

The ‘armor’ had length to it she at first couldn’t see between the satin covers. Her own sparkling chains braided across the shoulders as one long, jeweled piece ran the length of her back, stretching from the plate that spelled Jakoby. When Dinara had it balanced on her shoulders so she could clasp it at her front, she saw where the chains came together into the shape of the Taurus symbol. With delicacy she touched the pieces on her shoulders and at the center of her chest while it was adjusted at her back, her smile beaming. It was heavy- this was definitely some special mineral, for she’d never seen one of such weight be polished finely enough to catch even the smallest glimmer of these dim lights.

“Tomorrow you’ll glow during that sunset,” Dinara smiled, tugging the chains at either side of her shoulders. “Poor Nick will be so blindsided we might have to give his men a heads up,”

They giggled, Callie’s smile wavering when Dinara held her hands tightly, staring at her with glossy eyes. “These plates are traditional. A male’s mother hands them down to his bride if she approves, so these should have come from my own mother in law, but they didn’t,”

Callie’s smile fell. “What?”

“Oleg’s mother hates me. She wanted her boy to have the smiling, waxy wife who pops babies out like rats. So I had these made the day before we were married, and I wore them in front of her,” she grinned.

“Reclaimed the name?” Callie smirked.

Dinara nodded. “It’s a good name despite the reputation that came with it when you met my son,”

Callie only hugged her, their arms tightly wound one another in that moment. “Thank you,” she said, giving her a last squeeze before they both wiped their cheeks of any stray tears.

“Well it fits,” she giggled before the two got her out of the intricate chains and back into the sleek box.

“Come on then,” the orc sniffled, turning the light off. “Let’s finish the night.”

↠

Nick’s hand still hadn’t come down from shielding his eyes, but as long as Ward was emptying his dinner and three beers onto Sergey’s lawn, he wasn’t going to even bother glancing at him. His excitement had drained the entire two hours it took to get here, it’s gradual drip starting as soon as they’d left his parents.

“I’m fine, I just drank too fast,” were the kind of things Ward kept saying to excuse his deteriorating, sweating form, but Nick knew he’d heard him heaving into the toilet after calling Morn to ask exactly what she’d come down with. Still, he insisted he was fine the entire duration it took him to shower and change before they headed to Sergey’s next, but by the time they’d gotten in the car, Sergey was starting to look worse for wear, too.

As soon as the car had come to a stop, both of them were falling out, one running into the house and the other making it to the lawn before he lost his composure. Now, Nick was alone in this filthy mess after Matuk had ditched them, but Nick hadn’t expected him to go, really. Bachelor parties didn’t seem like his thing even though there was nothing to celebrate anymore.

“Juh- just gimme a min-” Ward choked, retching loudly.

“For three months I’ve dealt with puke almost daily,” Nick explained calmly, his eyes still hidden.

Daryl coughed.

“You’ve been hyping me up for this for weeks,”

Ward nodded, spit hanging off his bottom lip. “I’no,”

Nick dropped his hand and sighed when thirty seconds had passed- the longest yet- without him heaving, and he couldn't help laugh a little. Ward wasn’t the kind of person to ever show vulnerability even when he was hurt, so seeing him hunched over and whimpering meant taking a few photos should’ve been his top priority, but Nick showed mercy on his friend while the other was lost somewhere in his house likely calling Dura to cry.

“C’mon,” Nick groaned, lifting Ward’s limp body off the ground.

“I need t’go to Morn's,” he grunted, walking unsteadily beside him.

“She can come get you after I drop you off,” Nick used his lighter voice, clearing his throat when he realized what he was doing. “Sit down,”

Ward instead flopped into the backseat, exclaiming when his head smacked the door panel. He continued to wail when Nick used his foot to push his feet in, flinching at how loudly he protested.

“Jesus now I know why Sherri was such a bitch,” Nick mumbled, closing the door before Ward could scream at him. “Stay there,” he knocked against the window, turning towards the house. “Let me go check the other child…”

What started as Nick’s bachelor party he had looked forward to for weeks, had turned into a mini-pandemic between the parties involved- thank god they left his parents house when they did- and had resulted in Nick getting one giant man baby into bed with clean clothes after he was found on his bathroom floor, and cleaning the puke out of Ward’s car when he voided even more of himself while waiting. It hadn’t come without a cold scolding from Nick, demanding to know why he couldn’t have opened the door beside his head if he had enough power to sit up and spray everywhere, but Ward stopped listening when the words became languages he didn’t know.

He hollered and gagged the entire way back to driving Daryl home, bursting from the car as soon as he was parked, but that only meant helping clean this one up too.

After nearly three hours of scrubbing, and gagging, and screaming, Nick sat on Ward’s porch waiting for his Uber, a cold beer in hand. No amount of air freshener or borrowed cologne would mask the raw stench of vomit under his nails and on his clothes. He’d likely throw these away- his nose was too keen to allow back into his closet. Too bad; he really liked this shirt.

Night had at last crept over LA, leaving only a soft orange glow where the sun had slipped from. The night was humid, but cool, and the woven chair he sat in wasn’t half bad.

He looked at his phone, tracking the driver who was coming down the street.

He’d made the move multiple times to message Callie, but he couldn’t bring himself to halt her night, either. If she hadn’t messaged him about anything, that meant no sickness had befallen them either, right? Maybe they’d been lucky to avoid catching it from Daryl. He texted his mom at least, warning of a stomach bug floating around and to keep a closer eye on Leo.

A compact little sedan rolled up, and Nick groaned. Now he had to squeeze into that.

What am I even gonna do all night… he pondered, walking towards the car. He chuckled. Sleep.

Nick slipped in the open door, closing it noisily behind himself before spinning the bolt shut. His palm popped up just as he smacked his inner arm, his keys flying onto the counter and sliding noisily across its surface.

Never, not even after his most grueling days at the academy or after an even more grueling workout did he ever desire a shower and sleep like this moment, kicking his shoes off excitedly.

“Nick?”

He froze, his head half in the cabinets looking for something to take with him. Nick leaned out of the kitchen entry, his ears twitching. Was that…?

“Cal?” he called back warily.

“Maybe,” she called back, and he was off towards the bedroom he hadn’t even noticed had been shut.

The TV was mumbling lowly with her favorite show, but she wasn’t on the bed like he expected. Instead, sitting on the carpet on a folded blanket surrounded by her phone and wires that made up her headphones and charger with a pre-roll between her fingers, he found her sitting beside the cracked sliding glass door so the smoke could wisp out into the night.

Her eyes were just as wide as his, the pair speechless.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, almost afraid to move. Where’s Leo?

“What are you doing here?” she returned, knowing he’d seen the joint in her hold.

“Ward and Sergey-”

“Got sick?” she interrupted, her mouth tightening. He nodded, snorting.

“The girls too?”

She nodded, relaxing a little bit. “I thought you were off already doing the bachelor party thing so I just came home… and left Leo with your parents,”

“Yeah I didn’t call them either,” he confided softly, licking his bottom lip.

“So…” she looked around. Why was this so awkward!?

Nick watched her, leaned back on his hands after pulling a fresh shirt over his scrubbed skin. His head lolled to the side, watching her at last let out the insane breath she’d pulled in. The smoke from this one smelled foul compared to the scented trails from a cartridge, but he wouldn’t speak out against it.

By the time he’d come out of the shower, she had gone through half its length and her eyes were already falling shut. Eight months of sobriety brought her tolerances way down, but this was also the first time in months he hadn’t seen her chewing her inner lips or bouncing her knee. What a wonderful remedy this was, but the stigma attached to it would always leave Nick hesitant.

“That wine is gonna knock you out tomorrow,” he mumbled, grinning when she swatted sleepily at his foot.

“I thought we already agreed you’d catch me,” she reminded, twisting the butt in the ashtray before looking at him.

“Only if I can get really shit faced in San Diego,” he whined, and she laughed.

“Duh, me too,”

He smiled, watching her fidget around on the blanket and fix her hair hanging around her shoulders. She looked down at the ring on her hand, smiling adoringly at its face then clutching her palm to her chest. Soft humming came from her, a soft sway back and forth starting.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, knowing she’d fallen into her dreamy haze.

Callie shrugged, looking up at him. Those balmy eyes were glowing, her cheeks flushing. “I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow. It feels like it’s taken decades to get here but it’s only been… pfft three years? And now we have our baby?” she pouted, holding her own face.

“Wow,” Nick mumbled, smiling at her in amusement.

“I shouldn’t have left him there, I need to call your parents-”

“Cal,” he called, catching her frantic eyes. “He’s fine. Take a breath,”

She paused before nodding, sighing instead of taking an appropriate breath.

“I wanna be on whatever planet you’re on,” his words nudged her away from that guilt, a little smile lifting his spirits when he worried about her mental state. Sometimes the break-through anxiety was sneaky.

Her brow perked up, her smile growing devious.

“I can’t,” he reiterated.

“You can,”

“I can’t,”

“It would be out of your system in two days. We’ll be back way after that,” she too reminded him of the miraculous gift that was an Orcs metabolism, but Nick was a faithful worker and had his own, brittling views on the earth-made herb she relied on. “You didn’t get enough that first time,”

“It tastes like ass,” he defended, growing weary when Callie sashayed towards him with the ashtray and lighter pinned under her palm. “It makes my lips dry,”

“I’m not stopping until I hear ‘no’,” she clarified, sitting between his spread legs stretched across the floor and lighting the end of the blunt.

Still, Nick remained silent, watching her suck in her own small hit until the embers were crackling at the end. “I won’t make you do it if you don’t want to,” she told him, sensing his hesitation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. If he liked the buzz from drinking, he was sure he’d like the buzz from smoking, but his encounters in the past not to mention the particular one that had left him in a room full of laughing people during a bad trip left bitter emotions.

But he trusted Callie when reminding him she’d never do such a thing, and she trusted her when she said, “You’ll like it,”

“And I’ve seen how jittery you’ve been,” she noted, patting the hand that had moved to rest on her thigh when he sat forward.

“Who wouldn’t be?” he asked, pinching the shrinking joint between his fingers when she passed it. Then she sat back on her bottom, crossing her legs.

“It’s your decision, baby. I want you to have a good time but not if you’re uncomfortable,” she told him, knowing even in her bombed state that despite Nick accepting this more over the years and his own curiosity growing, pressuring someone wasn’t how you did it.

He rolled it a little bit between his fingers, glancing at her with his critical, yellow eyes.

Ugh, he’s so yummy-

“How long do I hold my breath?” his voice disrupted her thoughts.

“As long as you can,”

Nick sighed, looking at it one last time. “Fuck it, why not,”

Callie’s eyes widened every second he kept inhaling, caught between warning him and possibly making him panic or letting him get one huge drag in instead of coughing through a bunch of little ones, but by the time she decided, he was done. Silent, holding his breath, his eyes already watering when he handed it back.

Without looking she snuffed it out, waiting. “Nick?”

He exhaled loudly, a cloud of smoke blowing around her that she swatted towards the cracked door. The coughing started before he even finished his breath, the next one bubbling up his throat before the previous one finished. His throat and nose burned, and he could’ve sworn he felt his trachea vibrating with every ragged cough.

“Cough as hard as you can, it helps,” she coached, rubbing his back when he rolled onto his stomach to smother his teary eyed face in the carpet.

The ferocity of the coughing rang down his arms, his head throbbing when he managed to sit back up, but with the calming of his body came… warmth.

Nick cleared his throat over and over, wiping the back of his hands across his eyes, but the warmth surrounding his head was making it hard to keep his eyes open. They felt like they could fall into a slumber at any moment, but his mind was as wakeful as ever. He glanced down at his body; why did he feel so… floaty? He cleared his throat again of its scratch while rocking side to side, tensing his arms. Upon lifting his hand, he found he still had full coordination.

He snorted, coughing a little.

“Are you okay?” His head snapped around, finding Callie staring at him in suspense. “How do you feel?”

He inhaled. “I feel like there’s cotton in m’head,” he mumbled, an eye closing. “Like fuzzy cotton,”

She repressed giggles. “But are you okay?”

He nodded loosely, looking around their cluttered room. “It’s like being drunk but sober,”

“I’ve never been able to explain it that well,” Callie grieved, her arms throwing up into the air. “Are you gonna be one of those insightful people when you’re stoned?”

Nick blinked, his eyes reflecting when Callie snapped a photo of him. “Who?” he asked.

“Oh my god.” Callie mumbled.

“Damn,” Nick exclaimed under his breath, his face twisted in horror.

“I know,” Callie nodded, her knee draped over his thigh.

“Could you imagine…?

“No. It’s bad enough we have dragons,” she said against his chest. Every blink felt like eternity.

“Imagine if they did that,” Nick pictured, his body shuddering under hers. “What’s this movie called?”

“Princess Mononoke,”

He scoffed; no way he was remembering that. Nick took a final bite of their ordered dinner, chewing slowly as he stretched to rest the bowl on his nightstand. Maybe this would finally calm his voracious appetite, but as long as Callie kept opening that bag of Doritos, he was hopeless.

“I’m gonna gain thirty pounds by tomorrow,” he mumbled into her hair, the both of them chuckling.

“I never lost my thirty,” she pouted comically, stuffing another chip into her mouth.

“Damn, what that mouth do?” he teased around a yawn.

“Yo mama,” she mumbled, giggling when he snorted.

Silence lulled between the two snuggled and surrounded by snacks in the bed, both of their minds lost somewhere in the clouds as they re-watched various Netflix series.

He thought he’d heard her slip in and out of sleep earlier, but truth be told, he could’ve been listening to himself breathe. There had been a few times his reddened eyes snapped open to be in the middle of a completely different episode, but mentioning it would be admitting he was falling asleep which he continued to adamantly deny. With a blind reach, he retrieved his phone from the nightstand.

Just a little past midnight, but way too late. He was enjoying this too much, though. Nick was only selfish in the sense that sometimes he just wanted to snuggle right up to Callie and feel her body against his. The last time they’d had a moment like this without Leo in the way was at the beginning of her pregnancy, and laying like this only made him realize how long ago that was.

“We should be in bed,” Nick mumbled, rubbing his eye.

“We are in bed,” she laughed, sliding her cheek up to look at him.

“You know what I mean. Big day tomorrow,” he looked down at her, reaching to move some of her hair from her cheek so he could better see those big eyes that always sparkled.

“Everytime I think about it I get so nervous,” she whispered.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. It feels like that first time I met you at Santa Monica. I stress ate like seven funnel cakes. I was so anxious,” she admitted shyly.

“I changed a bunch of times. Couldn’t decide on anything,”

“Oh you did good, sir,” she winced, biting her bottom lip. “You could’ve drowned in my panties,”

“I would’ve if your sister hadn’t’ve interrupted,” he grumbled, forever bitter.

“Oh hush, it was a sign we would be together forever,”

“How so?” he questioned, twisting in her direction a little.

“I would’ve never called a guy back if that happened with anyone else, but you were so perfect that I swallowed the embarrassment and saved my horniness for another day,”

Nick smiled, a big goofy one. “Shut up,”

“Shut me up then,” she came back with, fast as a whip.

His eyes dropped to her lips, lingering before coming back to her eyes. “Isn’t that bad luck?”

“It was bad luck when we both ended up home,” she whispered, the weight of her hand once on his chest now coming to stretch across his meat.

That was enough convincing for Nick.

Callie was a little slower getting over him, but her heated kisses kept him concentrated on what they both wanted. When she was in her spot sitting in his lap, he could better taste her tongue after pulling her chest flush against his, his strong hands quickly continuing to her round ass he pulled back and forth over his growing dick. A steadying hand against his chest meant he could leave her skin that was marked red where he grabbed, her hips resuming the motions.

With his bottom lip pinched between his teeth, he easily pulled her loose sleeping shorts aside, revealing her plump pussy lips.

He could already feel how warm she was through his sweats, shortening his breaths in anticipation.

“You’re so hot,” he admired, looking up in time for her hair to fan around them when leaning down to kiss him. Strong, sinewy arms wrapped tightly around her waist, grounding himself to the angel that squirmed in his hold deliciously. Silently, inwardly, he thanked those who had blessed him with such a girl, promising to worship more as soon as he was done with this.

A firm tug on the ends of her shirt had it flying past her fingertips, thrown to the floor.

Callie gripped the railing to the headboard when he pulled her chest into his open mouth, a long lick gliding over a hardened nipple that had goosebumps fire up her arms. She snickered when he smacked his lips a few times, moving onto the other side. An old technique had her limp in his hold, her thighs tightening at his sides. He encouraged her hips to keep moving, his cock desperate for attention, but her mind was only a pool of melted pleasure at that point.

A hard gasp fell from her wet lips when he graced her clit with tight circles, hanging off of his neck to look down at his hand flat against her lower stomach as his thumb massaged her into a trance. Gradually her eyes fell shut, hair sticking to her cheeks while she panted softly.

His loose smile made her rock into his touch. “You want it already, don’t you?” he asked quietly, his voice vibrating with growls; Callie could only nod. He pecked her sloppily. “Get naked,”

Callie stumbled off into the center of the bed to kick off her shorts and socks, moving onto the food and remotes and phones that were now being swept onto the floor without a care.

Nick’s shirt and sweats had already been tossed off, but now as he rummaged through the drawer of his bedside table, his excitement was plummeting. Here was the box, but…

“We’re out of condoms,” he announced, looking back at her sat naked at the center of the bed on her knees with her dishevelled hair a mess around her shoulders. It only added to the tragedy of the situation.

“So?” she asked, her fingers drumming against her thighs.

Nick stood straight, his head cocking.

Since she’d been cleared for sex there hadn’t been a session they forgot to use protection, no matter how it dampened the sensation. He’d done it for her, for he wasn’t the one who’d be carrying anymore surprise babies, although it was the memory of her sweet, bare pussy around his unsheathed cock that helped bring him to an end, now. He’d wanted to ask her, even just for one quick slide in, but Nick had always assumed this was the new norm until either of them were snipped.

“Are you- really?” he asked.

“I hate them, Nick. I’m so over using them,” she exhaled, her shoulders drooping. “I’ve been trying to be good but if I have to ride your dick one more time with a balloon over it-”

She yelped, her legs pulled from under her ass and Nick finding his spot between her flailed knees when she realized what happened.

The mood shifted again, and suddenly they were in perfect sync.

Her knees drew upwards when the top of his thighs pressed under her bottom, his hand finding its place at the bend of her leg that was closest to her chest.

She made it up onto an elbow when he spit at his tip pressed against her entrance, her hand hovering against his belly.

“I’ll go slow,” he soothed, meeting her eyes. The first time they’d reunited in bed, his excitement resulted in hurting her, and from that came the need to remind him to be gentle, even this far down the road. A guilt he’d always carry, but he’d work on fixing it.

It didn’t burn this time his head popped in, his thick shaft following until she was filled to his base. Her shoulders fell back with a loud sigh while his eyes slammed shut, pressing to her as tightly as he could. He’d dived into a pool of ecstasy, sending strong shivers up and down his spine as he basked in her heat.

The stinging tug of a condom was at last absent, and there was only Nick’s velvet skin gliding against hers, creating the friction she so wildly desired.

“Baby,” she called, holding the hand at her leg when he stared down at where they were joined. His dilated eyes landed on hers, a low snarl curling his lips when he withdrew only to slip back in.

Her head rolled back in time with her eyes, a loud moan rumbling under the hand that slid up his chest when he rested forward on his hands, her knee hooked around his chiseled arm. He’d draw out until her heat was kissing his head, just so he could feel that delicious pressure before pushing back in. Nick leaned into one hand so he could touch her, dragging his rough hands up and down her body that gravitated towards his caresses. When her pussy bucked into his thrust, a surprised moan came from him, an eager thrust bouncing her.

A low, rumbling growl moved into her when he yanked her hips up in line with his, his nostrils flaring as he scented them together like this.

“Do it,” she smiled, her feet planted into the sheets behind him.

Their eyes locked during the time he adjusted his feet beneath himself, his breaths deep and loud. A few leisure bucks were her warmup, and then came that smirk. She bowed until she balanced on her shoulder blades, his grunts and chuffs nothing compared to the singing made in his name during his fucking. He was a force driven purely by instinct; the need to fill his girl again, to lay claim to what would officially be his that day.

The slapping of their bodies coming together drowned out the TV beside them, Callie’s resounding cries piled atop his raucous moans as he shoved his way into her body again and again, her juices covering them as he pounded that spot hidden deep between her tightening walls.

Her ass was dropped from his hold so he could lean forward for a kiss, her mind spinning when he rolled her on top of him.

With a flip of her head to move her hair off her sticky back, Callie sat straight, her fingertips guiding him back in as her knees slid out until she was sitting flat on him, flinching when his tip found the back of her pussy.

God, she was so small in his hands when he held her cinched waist; if he stuck his thumbs out, they could touch.

A deep moan rang in his chest when she snapped her hips back and forth, her sweet cunt massaging his entire length. When a dip of her center was particularly low, she’d gasp, holding her stomach where it felt he was poking, but a wide smile always followed those overpowering shocks of spine curling bliss.

Nick held steadfast to her hips, guilty in keeping her flat against himself so there was the added friction on his head.

“Oh fuck,” he drawled, his hand landing back into the sheets.

“Nick-” she gasped, her hand flying to his chest. “I’m-”

His last burst of energy was used flipping them again so she was spread below him, his hands hooking under her knees to push back into the bedding beside her ribs.

There was no more words as he poked his way back in, pistoning into her with such power her toes curled, her arms falling limp above her head when her climax came crashing around her. In an instant, she was stiff as a board, her legs strong enough to fight past his hold and stretch straight in tight trembles at his sides as he continued. When she could catch her breath, she shouted, a deep flush blooming across her cheeks and chest. Nick watched with a proud smile as she convulsed under him, her silent mumbles barely words as she came down from her high.

Her limp thighs shook mightily in his hold when he pushed them apart, their bodies touching in a paused moment so he could adore her with soft kisses.

She was still breathless as he brushed his lips across her jaw, her soft throat pulsing with the blood racing through her. Her pussy throbbed dully around him compared to the fist like hold he barely made it through moments ago.

A soft whisper in his ear brought the tempo back up, but Nick wanted to stay like this.

A beauty such as her was only admired best this close, and even though she’d found her climax, she whimpered below him, holding his face as he fucked her sweetly. Her ankles locked behind him, a heady groan to follow before he dropped his face beside hers.

“Should I cum on your stomach?” he panted, his thrusts weakening as the pleasure peaked.

“Inside me,” she kissed into his cheek, tightening the hold with her legs. “Cum inside me baby,”

The hand lost in her hair gripped her roots, a loud hiss coming from between her teeth when his entire body tightened and jerked against her flushed cunt. The screaming engine of Nick’s orgasm overtook him like a wave would at the beach, ringing from every end of his body and back to his center that spilled into his ecstatically beautiful bride to be. He grunted with every thick stream of semen forced into the space they both snuggly occupied, slowly stilling until they were both a heaving pile of sweaty parts and cloudy minds.

He worried he’d crush her the longer he laid over her, but the soft gliding of her hands up and down his back were too good to pass up. He exhaled, his face buried between the mattress and her head. “Fuck,”

Callie giggled, her cheek leaning into his so he’d force himself up to look at her. The urgency was gone in their kisses, but now he could feel how sleepy she was.

“Ready?” he asked against her mouth, only moving when she nodded. Her thighs trembled when he dragged out of her, bringing a thick stream of the nectar he’d left behind.

“Oh I can feel that,” she grimaced, sitting up on her elbows warily. It wasn’t clear at that point if it was the weed or sex that had left her feeling like her head was vacant.

“You should see it,” he smirked, his cocky pride coming through. “How many siblings did you want Leo to have?”

“Ha,” she shouted. “Good luck getting me pregnant ever again. My body said one and done,” she grunted sitting up, scurrying off to the bathroom after Nick had hoisted her up. He didn’t answer, and wouldn’t. Callie adored the idea of having a big family, but the night the topic came up when Leo was two months old, it only ended in her confiding in Nick that she felt she’d never be so lucky again. She wasn’t wrong in saying her body would likely fight off pregnancy for years, maybe endlessly if they ever tried again. Where it once happened so effortlessly, the time following to get where they were now had left them both a little… doubtful.

Nick yanked the blanket off their bed, tossing it beside the door so he could flop into the cool sheets of the mattress after turning off the lights and TV. His arms were already open when she came wobbling back in, her naked body collapsing into his. They rolled and wiggled until they found their spots, her head tucked under his chin and their legs tangled.

“We broke like four traditions,” she mumbled through a closed jaw.

“Thinking about it, I don’t think it applies to us,” he yawned; the sleepiness was at last getting to him. She looked up at him curiously.

“Our whole relationship is taboo. Curses don’t apply to morally incorrect choices,” he explained, laughing when she did.

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” she settled, her soft smile lingering when he rubbed her arm. The soft breeze from their ceiling fan moved her loose hair around his arm, tickling his skin, but the gentle strokes across his chest from her was lulling him into sleep.

“You’re not gonna bail on me tomorrow, right?” she asked suddenly, and his eyes opened.

He leaned away from her so he could better see her face when she looked up. “Why would you ask that?”

“I had to ask, my mind wouldn’t let me put it to rest,” she sighed. “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” he pulled her chin up, holding her face. “I’ve been trying to get you to marry me for years, remember?”

She giggled, nodding. “What if right when I said yes you were like ‘fuck, she said yes, what do I do now?’”

“Oh my god that brain of yours,” he sighed, laying back down to pull her tight against his chest. “I’ll prove it to you when I’m waiting at the altar,”

“Promise?” she asked, her big eyes already closed. He pushed some hair aside, her lids fluttering a moment.

“Always.”

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did i plant a seed in this chapter? are those church bells in the distance? honeymoon in san diego where they have the best tacos HWHAT?

only 3 chapters left! ;_; thanks for reading, my loves! ❤

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