#~Sile the Silent~ (Sile)

[jiminrings]

c*ntroversial fics (the series) sneak peeks :-)

at your will — wherein jungkook swore to leave his pornstar life behind, atleast until he does a video behind your back.

Your chest swells with pride knowing that Jungkook is wanted by many, but he doesn’t want anyone but you.

To have him in the first place, much more as your first boyfriend, had already been a shot in the dark. He was a mutual friend of a mutual friend who loitered in your flower shop, just because he didn’t have an umbrella whilst it was pouring outside and didn’t want to fight with one of nature’s worst forces (a cold).

He wants stability and you want it as well, even if it’s from him; most especially if it’s from him.

Jungkook’s too much of an unorthodox, out-of-your-league guy — and yet you’re perfect for each other.

At the end of the day, however, you can’t reverse the fact that Jungkook’s much more experienced than you.

No matter how many nights you share with your first boyfriend, you can’t negate how many people he’s seen even if he sleeps with his head buried to your neck. You can’t just simply ignore the fact that you can’t tell how many times he made everyone else cum before you, even if it’s in a set or through a screen by simply watching him do his job.

In days like these wherein Jungkook’s shirtless as he makes you your breakfast or fixes something in your bathroom, you can’t help but think if it’s been a plot line to his adult films before. 

When he coos to your face and giggles at your silent confusion about how things work, you’re harshly reminded of the fact that you and Jungkook aren’t on the same calibre. You’re not on the same podium, you’re not verified with the same check mark, and you’re not used to the same bright lighting that highlights nothing but your pleasure — maybe even the sweet, occasional pain that Jungkook seeks.

No matter which way you look at it, you can’t deny how knowledgeable he is about pleasure and being the embodiment of it. You can’t ignore the number of condoms he has on hand, nor the array of toys he has, nor the natural ease he has to himself whenever you’re intimate. 

You can’t skirt around the fact that you feel out of place underneath Jungkook, or in whatever position he puts you in.

“My sweet doll,” he’d call you endearingly when you’re spacing out as you do the work you take home with you, and instead of being gratified by the pet name like usual, your stomach churns at the unspoken bother — how many other people has he called that?

“You okay, baby?” he’d ask you whenever there’s a frown or a furrowed appearance of brows on your face. The question had been your saving grace for the longest time since you got together, but when Jungkook asks you now, you only grow irritated — how many times has he whispered that to the ears of those who’d been under him before?

Jungkook’s yours, even if there had been many before you — even if there’ll probably be more after you.

“Going somewhere?” you ask sharply, the tone of your voice going unnoticed by Jungkook because he chalks up the edge to it to your workload.

“Mhm! Just meeting my old friends,” he chirps, dashing down the stairs in a frenzy.

Jungkook looks good. Clean. He’s pristine with the way he’s freshly-lathered and shaved, doused in perfume that’ll practically lure everyone close to him.

“Oh,” you swallow the lump in your throat, refusing to breathe Jungkook in even if he kisses your temple. “Old friends?”

There’s a knot that forms behind your eyes and you fear that if you let Jungkook closer to you at the moment, your vision would turn white; that your eyesight would see past him and instead focus on the packaging of that one coveted brand’s pheromone perfume in the trash, or the box of ribbed condoms that you hate in his side of the bathroom dresser, or the way how Jungkook’s old work phone vibrates on his dresser.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head too much,” Jungkook mutters to your hair, a snort coming out past his lips belatedly when he mistakes your silence for embarrassment.

You can’t deny any longer that Jungkook’s more experienced than you in practically everything; in sex, in love, and in life — maybe even in lying.

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fine print — wherein namjoon's always made it know that he hates being in an arranged marriage with you. alternatively, you date namjoon's friend because it wouldn't hurt him anyway — you think.

Namjoon misses a lot of things.

He doesn’t notice your new haircut even if you took off five inches and lightened it. He doesn’t even react when you invade his personal space and purposely create situations wherein you have to shove your scalp in his face (read: there are actually none), only huffing and asking you what got into you that day.

Your husband doesn’t notice either when you water down his favorite expensive perfumes and he’ll be forced to smell like what he paid for, for exactly two minutes before he ends up smelling like tap water. He doesn’t even acknowledge you when you make a show of sniffing him and asking him if he forgot to put perfume on today, before incessantly offering to spray him with your own.

Namjoon doesn’t even notice the tiny things you do to annoy him — to get a reaction out of him because no matter what you do, you feel as if you’re insignificant to him as you were before you got married. He’s a brick wall with an electrical fence placed in the middle of the most mundane ocean to exist, and you’re merely a castaway who’s hoping to reach him.

He’s infuriating. He’s annoyingly calm to the point of nonchalance, the complete opposite of what you are. You care too much, even for an arranged wife, and Namjoon cares car too less, even for an arranged husband because the bar is extremely low.

“I put salt in your coffee instead of sugar,” you hum, toying with the new bracelet you paid for using Namjoon’s card (you didn’t even like it, you just bought it because it was expensive and you wanted him to notice you; he didn’t) as you watch him eat the breakfast that the cook made, the pancakes you made only sitting cold on the side.

“Did you now?” Namjoon grunts disinterestedly, shrugging with ease. “Didn’t drink the cup you made anyway.”

Namjoon’s infuriating — he’s far too infuriating, it actually molds all of your anger for him into helplessness. 

Your husband’s a busy man who only tends to is family’s airline and nothing more. He won’t give you the time of day, he won’t touch you, and he won’t even grace (or annoy) you with his presence for whatever it is that you ask of him. You do ask for him and in fact, seek him out almost all of the time; the only problem is that he doesn’t want to come to you.

You may have Namjoon’s family name but you don’t have him at all. You have only crumbs of him (far smaller and scattered than the ones you intentionally put on his bedsheets) and you’re a beggar he won’t look at twice. You’re a name on his ledger that only boosts him for everyone else but drags him at home because he wants nothing to do with you.

You’re fed up. You’re exhausted to the point of almost no return that if you’re a lowly fish in the ocean, you’d rather sink to the bottom than be carried away by the current that Namjoon leaves you in.

Namjoon misses a lot of things, but oddly enough, he doesn’t miss the way you haven’t tried talking to him tonight.

He doesn’t miss the way you’re dressed up all pretty, even if he has no plans with you.

“Where are you going?” he raises a brow, looking up from his phone. 

He looks a little confused, maybe even worried, when you don’t spare him a glance as he repeats your name thickly into the air.

“Out.”

“By yourself?” he clarifies, shaking his head when you don’t reply. Namjoon unanimously pulls himself up from the couch, tucking his phone into his pocket as he internally combs through his closet for an outfit to save some time. “To where? Ugh. Give me ten minutes, I’ll just-…”

Namjoon thought this was your direct, no-frills invitation for him to go out with you tonight, but with the way you grit your teeth and stop in your tracks coldly instead of skipping in joy (typically following him into the closet like you’ve done numerous times before with this approach), he realizes that its not the case at all.

“I’m not going out alone.”

“Then who are you with?” Namjoon counters, the edge that accompanies his voice being unknown to you. He sounds wary — perhaps even jealous if you hadn’t gotten it through your thick skull that he doesn’t want you the way you want him

You remain silent at the question, not because you’re nervous, but because you don’t want him to know at all.

You don’t want Namjoon to know that his friend asked you out on a date.

The ache in your jaw from clenching it loosens when you finally break eye contact, the whiff he gets of your perfume, instead of his own that he knows you use, irking him when you turn your back on him.

“Don’t wait up.”

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was it casual? — wherein jin's a gentleman and you're his one and only girlfriend, except everyone else gets the same treament you do.

Jin helps those in need.

He carries your bag for you wherever you go, even if you don’t ask him to. Your boyfriend has no problem whether he’s carrying the well-loved, brown leather bag you use almost on a daily basis, or the occasional backpack that has too many keychains on it and jingles loudly at every step, or even if it’s the embarrassing grocery bag you use when you’re in a hurry to do an errand.

He doesn’t give you any problem when you ask him where to eat because he has an answer every time (different ones too at that) instead of a default wherever that you’d give him. Jin doesn’t give you any flak either when you look at his plate longingly after you suffer the consequences of being adventurous and ordering something unlike your usuals, instead exchanging your meals without so much of a complaint.

Jin’s caring for the needy and there’s no doubting it. He kissed you silly right after you gashed your knee in the middle of a crowded field that one time, and he willingly missed the start of the fireworks show just to crouch down and tie your shoelaces for you that one night.

You’re in need of him. You’re the needy. You’re the girlfriend who knows full-on about what friends and strangers alike say about you and Jin and how he’s simply just too good to be true, too good to be with you, and you agree with them everytime.

You’re in need of Jin and you’re the needy — yet you’re not the only one.

“You’re not sleeping in?” you mutter in confusion, propping yourself up with a pillow as you try to remember if you should be doing the same and just happened to forget that you had to go out with him today.

“Sorry, baby,” Jin breathlessly apologizes for interrupting your sleep, the whiff of perfume that you get from his neck when he leans down to kiss you being proof that he’s indeed going out, alone. “A friend needs me. She needs someone to the heavy lifting for her because she’s moving out,”

“Does she not have the money for movers?” you blurt out with a frown, your inability at the moment to filter your words only being highlighted by the fact that Jin doesn’t seem to be perturbed at all to be doing all of this, for a friend, at 6 in the morning.

“Tone,” he lightly scolds you, rolling his eyes playfully as he lends you a few seconds by running his hand through your hair, all before he has to leave and be unavailable for the whole day. “Yerim does have the money, but she also has friends.”

Your brows furrow at the mention of his friend, one that you’ve heard many times before, and one who happens to just need your boyfriend’s help all the time.

“Oh, is Hoseok coming too?” you ask, trying to reach for a branch that you hope would divert you from diving further into your worries. Surely enough, Yerim (who seems to be unable to do anything by herself at any point in her life) has also enlisted the help of Hoseok, your mutual friend, because heavy lifting is involved and Jin needs another pair of hands — right?

You happen to be wrong though, as always, as long as it’s in the name of Jin’s chivalry or whatever it is that’s much, much stronger and volatile than being a gentleman.

“Nope. Just me.”

“Just you?” you clarify, nodding slowly. “Yerim, a promoter in the city, only has you for a friend?”

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two more c*ntroversial fics for august + more!!

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hee-hee welcome to another series!!! this takes me back to my 2017 clichés n i will forever remain nostalgic :-) to get ahead of questions, i fear that this series would only be exclusive for patreon citizens!!! dgm wrong i'm not closing the door forever on Not Ever posting a fic or two from this series (maybe as a holiday gift from me or something!!), but as of now n for the foreseeable future, i'll only limit it to patreon :O it just happens that the target audience for my c*ntroversial (?) fics, i think andddd i've also observed, are not suited for the majority of my tumblr base!!! my writings on tumblr tend to always have redemption towards the end + palatable comfort paired with hurt themes, but as for this series..... yea u get what i mean 🫂💗

anywayyyy if u want to read these pieces now + a lot more exclusive pieces + gain early access to general fics (aka fics that are available for both tumblr and patreon citizens), head over to my patreon!

p.s. u can also sign up as a free member on patreon to get the occasional free short fic/sneak peek, but pls take into mind that they r only put up for a limited time!!! :D

[k-nayee]

Wife to the Winds Epic: The Musical | i

wc: 1.7k a/n: currently obsessed with anything Ancient Greek right now - ESPECIALLY Epic lol. it technically picks up after the song, but if ya wanna here's the animation to it!

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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

You felt nauseas, sick with fear as you cautiously made your way through the stone corridors.

Distant clash of swords and muffled shouts of Greek soldiers rummaging the palace heightened your urgency. 

With every turn, the looming threat grows: facing an enemy and their weapon stained with the blood of those you've grown to know.

"Lord Apollo...Please...let me be there in time..."you prayed silently, the image of Astyanax's sleeping face urging you forward.

Thoughts racing almost as fast as your feet, you nearly miss a group of men around the corner.

"Imagine the glory we'll have after this!"

Too caught up in conversation, they miss the sight of you slipping into a dark alcove.

"Praise? Forget that! I'm claiming the prettiest whore out of the bunch. You seen all we captured? Deserve some softness after all this."

Hidden in the shadows you're able to take in the blood splatters and dirt on their passing frames.

"You got that right! One thing I'll admit about Troy, they have some nice women..."

You shiver at their crude remarks and wait until their laughter fades into the distance before moving once more.

After a few more dodges and turns, you find the narrow passage and squeeze through.

There, you travel the secret route you'd discovered months ago having spent years exploring every hidden nook and cranny.

The weight of the glass feeding bottle in your hand is a constant reminder of the innocence you're desperate to protect, even as the world around you crumbled. 'I'm on my way Astyanax...'

Inside the walls with only the sound of your heartbeat and the distant chaos; a haunting, pain-filled voice echoes through the air as you near the babe's chamber.

"...I'm just...a man..."

Compelled by the unexpected softness, you peek through a sliver of space at the ornately disguised door (its decorations masterfully concealing its true nature).

There, at the balcony, you're met with the view of Odysseus. And in his hands he drops—

Your heart stops.

No, it shatters.

The baby prince, your charge, your little Astyanax, is...

A heart-wrenching gasp escape your lips, the forgotten milk bottle slipping from your hands to shatter against the stone floor.

Odysseus's head snaps around.

The warrior within him awakened instantly, his eyes narrowing and scanning the shadows.

"Who's there?" he demands, voice sharp and commanding as it sliced through the quiet.

Hand already on the hilt of his dagger, he draws it with a sound that promised death and begins the search.

His feet echoes on the stone floor, each step feeling like a countdown to your end.

The air around you thickens with tension, you struggle to breath against the fear that threatens to overwhelm you.

In hopes of blending in the shadows you press your back harder against the cool wall.

'Be still...Be silent,' you chant even as your heart frantically beat against your ribcage.

Not even daring to breathe too loudly: your inhales and exhales are measured and deliberate despite the panic clawing at your throat.

Memories of Lady Andromache's warnings swirled through your mind—of men turned monsters in the heat of battle, their souls stained with the bloodlust of war.

"The taste of blood...changes a man." Dark brown eyes, somber and knowing, stare into your own. "Leaves him with a hunger for violence that's never fully sated..."

Her words, a distant and cautionary tale you never understood, now rang with terrifying clarity.

With Odysseus so close, the fear becomes so palpable it wraps around you.

Your eyes clamp shut when his footsteps nears, a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the impending horror.

Tears cascade silently down your cheeks in hot paths. There, you mourn not just for the young prince but for yourself and what may come of you.

Suddenly, the footsteps began to fade, leaving a silence so profound it feels like a scream in the void.

Minutes pass, each second an eternity spent in the clutches of fear. Then, there's a sound: the door closing—it cuts sharply through the stillness.

He left...

Relief washes over you, albeit tinged with the sorrow and shock of witnessing your charge's murder.

You wait. Counting each breath, allowing the minutes to stretch until it feels an eternity has passed.

No sound follows, no sign of his presence remains.

Emboldened by the silence and finally convinced, you allow yourself to move.

With cautious steps you emerge from your hiding spot and move toward the center of the room.

The need to escape, to distance yourself from this nightmare of death and close calls pushes you forward.

It's a relief short-lived.

Realizing the silence was a trick, it's already too late: arms encircle you.

The cold kiss of his dagger at your throat shatters any illusion of safety.

His body is pressed against your back, a wall of muscle and tension. You're acutely aware of him—the heat of his breath, the controlled movements, the slight shift as he adjusts his grip on the knife.

Your breath hitches from the terror and despair mingling in your throat, choking you.

"Not a sound," Odysseus whispers, his voice a lethal calm that contrasts the violent actions. "Now tell me: who are you?"

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Your life...choices...everything you had or could have depended on the mercy of the man who had just taken a child from the world.

Fear wars with desperation in your heart. 'Please...let this not be my end. I have so much left to live for...'

"P—please..." you stammer, the words barely escaping your lips. "I won't tell anyone, I swear it. Just let me go..."

"I said," he ignores your pleads, choosing to press the dagger closer for emphasis, "who are you?"

In a flash of desperation and unexpected courage, you act.

With a swift, practiced move born from hours of watching the palace guards train, you suddenly shift your weight.

Pivoting on your heel you wrench his arm away from your throat and use the momentum to twist his wrist; forcing him to drop and send the dagger clattering to the ground.

You jump back, chest heaving with exertion and the shock of your own audacity. You lock eyes with Odysseus who stares at you in stunned silence.

For a moment, he is visibly taken aback; eyes widening not just at the loss of his weapon but at the sight of you.

"By the Gods..." he murmurs, the edge of his battle-hardened demeanor softening as he truly sees you for the first time.

The fire of the torches cast a soft glow on your brown skin, making the stone of the palace around you seem even more dull.

Your hair is nothing he had seen before. There amidst the curls that frame your face, lays a bold streak of white that runs into the mass of hair.

However, it's your eyes that truly captivate him—they glimmer, a striking violet filled with an intensity of deep grief yet unwavering determination.

For a fleeting moment, the fierceness in his eyes dims as a cascade of thoughts sweep through.

Odysseus, a man who faced gods and monsters...

...a man who has navigated the treacherous whims of fate...

...finds himself lost in the mere mortal beauty before him.

In another life, he might have allowed himself to be drawn in; to explore your being and the depths of those violet eyes. 

The fantasy flickers through his mind of what could have been, momentary indulgence if you will.

Yet, as quickly as it arrived, it is quelled by his love and loyalty for Penelope. The memory of her steadfastness and unwavering faith in his return casts a shadow over any fleeting desire he might feel.

Taking advantage of his internal conflict, you find your voice and interject. "W-wait! I mean no harm nor am I an enemy! I was just trying to survive."

Curiosity piqued, Odysseus gestures for you to continue.

"I come from land that's oceans away, taken against my will. Here, I became a servant for Lady Andromache out of exotic curiosity," Your voice steadies as you speak, gaining strength from the truth of your words. "But then my purpose evolved and I became the caretaker for the prince—a child now dead, through no fault of my own."

The Greek king could only narrow his eyes at you in assessment, voice regaining some of its earlier edge. "And why should I spare you? You are, after all, of Troy."

"Not by choice!" you counter quickly, the words tumbling out, "I am no citizen of Troy, bound by loyalty nor blood. My life here was never of my choosing. My only wish is to live a life beyond wars, serving as a pawn in the games of Gods and Kings."

A smile wry of acknowledgment touches Odysseus' lips.

"You're clever," he admits as the tension in the room shifts, becoming less hostile.

"But why should I trust you?" he probes further, bending down to retrieve his dagger yet making no move to use it. "You, who managed to disarm me?"

Your gaze held a weariness it almost felt bone-deep,, "I have nothing left. The same ambush that brought me here as a servant...massacred my family. The only wish I have now is to live a life of medicine, as my mother was and hers before her. My hands are meant for healing, not for war. Let me serve in your kingdom, and I promise, my loyalty will be yours."

Silence hangs between you two, thick with possibilities.

Then, slowly, a smile begins to form on Odysseus's lips; the first genuine smile he's probably shown in years.

"A barter, then. You propose your freedom for my journey home?"

"Yes!" your voice is firmer now, pushed by his response. "I have skills, knowledge that can aid you. Take me with you, and I swear to devote myself in ensuring your safe return to Ithaca without further misfortune."

Odysseus studies you for a long moment, weighing your words and the sincerity in your eyes. "You truly believe you can ensure my safe passage home? After everything?"

You keeping eye contact with him, the intensity of your gaze unwavering. "With all my heart..."

The quiet that follows is heavy with contemplation, with the unspoken thoughts that flicker behind his eyes.

Finally, he nods, a decision made.

"Very well. But know this," he adds, his tone leaving no room for doubt, "any betrayal, and it will be the last thing you do."

[catboymoonknight]

Comfort

Keegan Russ x Reader

No Y/N used

Words: 1,000+

Notes: >:3

You look up from your book when you hear the front door close. You look over, seeing Keegan leaning back against the closed door.

"Hey, handsome." You say, sitting up and setting down your book, marking your place.

He looks over at you, his eyes holding a tired expression as his mask stays static on his face. "Hey, love," he mumbles softly. He begins to make his way over to the master bedroom.

You get up from the couch, quietly walking behind him. He opens the door, tossing the rest of his bags onto the bed. His feet drag against the floor as he walks towards the edge of the bed, starting to unpack his bags.

You walk up behind him, hands gently rubbing up his back and resting on his shoulders. "Why don't you go clean up in the bathroom? I can unpack your stuff."

His shoulders sag softly as he hears your voice reach his ears. He nods wordlessly, his feet dragging as he walks to the bathroom. You're heart clenches as you can tell how clearly tired he seems.

You quickly unpack his bag, not wanting him to stress about it anymore. Throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper, you pull the rest of his clothes and tuck them away in the drawers and closet.

Slowly walking over to the bathroom, you gently knock on the bathroom door. "Baby?" You ask soflty, waiting for a response from the other side. Not hearing one, you slowly open the door, seeing Keegen sitting on the toliet lid, his eyes closed. He slowly opens his eyes, looking over at you, the mask still covering his face.

"Hard day?" You softly ask, walking over to him. He watches you, nodding softly as you walk closer to him. You stand in front of him, debating whether or not to reach out to him.

 After a few minutes of silence, you slowly reach out to him. He sits silently, watching your hand come closer to his face. His eyes close as your hand cups his cheek through the mask, his furrowed eyebrows relaxing a bit.

Your other hand cups the other side of his face, holding him for a bit. You begin to slowly trail your hands down, eventually meeting the end of his mask. Your fingers slide under it, getting ready to pull it up before his hands suddenly grip your wrists. You tense, blinking a few times before making eye contact with him.

Reading the confusion on your face, he sighs, pulling your hands away from his mask.

"Not right now, baby... Give me a bit.." He says, tiredness seeping into his tone.

Nodding quietly, you gently pull him into you, your hands softly holding his head against your stomach. His arms slowly wrap loosely around your thighs, his thumbs rubbing over the back of them.

The two of you stay in that same position for a while, only the sounds of your breathing and fingers rubbing over fabric. Keegan suddenly feels his eyes stinging with tears as your hands gently rub at the back of his head and neck.

He buries his head on your stomach, his shoulders shaking softly. Your heart sinks as you feel his tears wetting your shirt. To comfort him, you rub your hands over his shoulders, gently kneeding his muscles as he continues to sob gently. Tears spring into your own eyes as Keegan continues to cry.

He sniffles softly, turning his head so his cheek is pressed against your stomach. "I love you, baby."

You nod softly, a hand rubbing his cheek through his mask. "I love you too, baby.."

His hands hold the back of your thighs tightly, almost as if you'll disappear if he lets go. You reach up towards his eyes, gently wiping away his tears. His eye makeup smudges, some coming off on your finger.

The two of you spend a while in that position, Keegan holding you close, his head pressed against your stomach. You stand there, hands gently rubbing his shoulders and up to his neck before he slowly pulls away. He looks up at you, the tears having smudged and ruined his eye makeup a bit. He stays quiet, slowly grabbing your hands in his. Slowly, he moves both of your hands to the bottom of his mask.

Understanding his silent plea, you slowly pull it off. He closes his eyes again, savoring the feeling of your fingers brushing against his skin. You pull it off completely, dropping it down to the side. Your hands cup his bare face, which causes his shoulders to sag in relaxation.

"There's my handsome man.." You softly whisper, stroking his cheekbones. A soft smile comes up on his lips, his eyes still closed. He hums before turning his head to kiss your palm.

"Keegan.." You say softly, still holding his face in your hands.

He doesn't say anything, only looking up at you with tears in his eyes. You crouch down, your thumbs wiping away his tears. "You need to wake up, Keegan."

He sniffles softly, his eyebrows furrowing deeply. He keeps his gaze on you, his eyes searching yours. "W-What.."

You smile at him, the edges of the smile shaking gently. "You need to wake up."

"Baby, what the hell are you talking about?" He says, grabbing your hands with his, keeping them against his face.

"Keegan. Wake up." You say in a stern voice.

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He jolts up in bed, his lungs screaming as he takes a sudden deep breath of the cold air around the barracks. He pants heavily, glancing around to take in his surroundings. A cold sweat covers his body, the darkness flooding his vision. The only light is the small amount of moonlight that floods through the window.

His breathing slows down eventually as he sits up in his bed. He reaches up and runs his hands over his face and head, trying to process the dream. The palms of his hands press into his eyes, his body yearning for your touch.

He slowly lays back down, reaching under his pillow before his head hits it. He pulls out a small picture. It's one of you he had taken while you weren't paying attention. He can't help but stare at the picture, tears springing into his eyes.

Letting out a deep sigh, he tucks the photo back under his pillow, pulling his blankets back up to his shoulders. "Soon, baby...," he says to himself as he closes his eyes again, trying to will himself to sleep.

[punchingballs]

YOU TAKE REQUESTS NOW AHIHISHDHAJDHSJGFSHAHABABABAHAHAHAHAHAG

I like your writing style so much

Can you write about a silent reader that's free therapy for pjsk characters shsushsufhaudhbrsbz Hhaahshdjahfbsa

I LOVE YOUR REQUEST AND THANK YOU SO MUCHHH

"A CRY OF HELP ONLY YOU CAN HEAR"

AKITO

"What are you doing?" Akito suddenly asked gruffly, staring down at you while you sat in loneliness at an abandoned shady alleyway.

"..." No response, Akito expected that, he sighed heavily before walking down the stairs and sitting beside you.

"Are you in a bad mood?" Once more, Akito asked another question, this time he expected you to reply.

"No." Your voice was monotonous, particularly unexpressive. However, soon, that stoic and unexpressive facial expression you had, cracked slowly into a warm smile.

Akito's eyes widened slightly, his lips parted a bit.

"I'm glad that you were looking for me..."

Akito got flashed. That smile, paired with your ocean-like eyes, the gruff boy couldn't muster a reply as he could only stare in wonder, despite the blinding light you radiated.

"Tch..." Akito clicked his tongue and looked away, not because of the rampant emotions inside his heart, rather... you're too bright for him.

A moth drawn to a flame he was.

"This is one of your spots right? I just guessed that you were going to go here."

"Your intuition's sharp." Akito commented.

"Akito... is much more clingy than he thinks he is."

"I'M NOT CLINGY!"

TOYA

"Do your fingers hurt?" You asked Toya, he tilted his head, confused... and yet a sense of warmth washed over him when you noticed that fact.

"N-... Yes." Toya pondered about lying, but ultimately, he couldn't lie under your deep gaze.

Unexpressive, yet warm, distant yet so close... Toya couldn't describe the aura you emanated. He wants to understand it, to understand how exactly do you do this to him?

"I see." You gently grabbed his hands, placing your soft and delicate fingers on his and started rubbing Toya's fingers, massaging them with slow movements.

Toya didn't respond. "You don't have to-"

"No, this isn't entirely selfless... You seem so bothered sometimes, I wanted to understand you." You replied back, halting what Toya would say and he made a heavy sigh.

"Bothered...?" Toya wanted you to clarify, and so you did.

"You... seem so bothered, as if something's burdening you."

Toya's eyes widened when he saw your unexpressive face crack into a small smile. "Oh..."

"You don't have to say what it is to me, but... I want to understand you... Open up more to me will you? I don't want you to betray yourself anymore."

... Toya's blood froze and he could only stare in shock, those words. Were... He couldn't describe it, but he felt happy, he felt euphoric even.

Toya couldn't croak out a reply, just a small hmm... And looking away with a red hue on his cheeks.

KANADE

(marry me pls)

"This isn't it, none of this is it..." Kanade softly said while glaring at her monitor with a determined yet fragile expression.

It earned a frown from you.

"... I can't save others with thi-" Kanade suddenly felt a tug on her hand, her left arm was raised up involuntary as from the shadows of her room, you sprang out and had a frown on your face.

"What are you doing?"

A few seconds of silence, gazing at the ground, Kanade finally calmed down. "I..."

"Music that can save people, isn't composed by having frustration in the heart." You added on, and Kanade continued to stare at the ground with pursed lips.

Your grip on her left arm loosened up causing the smaller girl to place her arms on her lap.

You sighed before patting her head, warmth infiltrated Kanade's body, her heartbeat hastened, her hand crept up to hold her chest, trying to calm down her rampaging heart.

"Come on, let's try again, this time I'll help you." You sat beside her, and stared at the monitor.

Perhaps composing a love song... isn't bad for now? Especially when right now, there's a light so bright beside her, she can see where the path is now...

MAFUYU

Silence, silence... Perhaps some crow noises would fit between the two of them.

"So what are your interests? What do you want to do?" Wearing a fake smile, Mafuyu gazed towards you, who was silently gazing at the mall, a bit overwhelmed.

"..." No response from you.

Mafuyu scratched her cheek a bit awkwardly. "You're overwhelmed?... You don't go outside often?"

You suddenly frowned. "You're bad at lying."

"Huh?" Surprised, Mafuyu tilted her head, she started sweating a bit. "Wh-what?"

"You're bad at lying."

"... I... What do you mean..?"

"You're bad at lying."

"I heard you the third time."

"Yes, literally what I mean, what are you hiding? I'd rather have someone say their true feelings, rather than mask a fake smile... and talk to me with fake positivity."

"... I found you."

Mafuyu's eyes widened and she suddenly felt tears welling up on her eyes. You found her? Found... her?

"At least now, your game of hide and seek is over, Mafuyu."

Mafuyu didn't know, how relieving it was for someone to notice, for someone to find her, despite her continuous descend to madness.

"..." That smile, that smile you have right now, Mafuyu could only stare in shock and silence. Fuzzy, she feels so... happy right now.

"You can tell me everything... But if you can't then..." You finally reached for her head and started patting her. "I'll always wait."

... Mafuyu slammed her head on to your chest, and let her tears stain your clothes, causing you to sigh but still have that warm smile.

[lieutnt]

your ghost fic was so good oh my god. since you said that you were open to suggestions, would you ever consider writing something that involves ghost getting knotted? love the way u write dude

new experiences

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male Reader Summary: Simon experiences one of your heats for the first time. Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. Anal (R giving), knotting, heats, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, what are refractory periods?

Your chest heaves as you try to remain still, fists clenched in the bed sheets and head thrown back in exasperation, unable to keep your eyes open as Simon lowers himself onto you inch by inch, your mind and body in turmoil as you know he needs to go slow to adjust to your size, but the deep ache in the pit of your stomach begging him to hurry so you can fuck him already.

Thighs trembling with restraint you puff out a harsh breath as you adjust to the way his hole hugs you tightly, senses trickling back to you as you fill him inch by inch until you bottom out, your whole length nestled deep inside him. He stays like that for what feels like an eternity as your breathing evens out, finally able to lift your head and look at him.

Simon doesn't seem to be doing any better than you are - a deep flush blooming from his neck down, his chest slowly rising and falling as he breathes until he's comfortable, his hard cock drooling precum onto your abdomen where it rests.

An involuntary grunt punches from your throat when he plants his hands on your chest and lightly rocks, your hands leaping to hold onto his waist, trying to pull him forward for more, to do anything. He goes with you, slow, testing the movement, and you can't help but be distracted by the flexing of his muscles, thick thighs resting on either side of you as he rocks. You didn't think it was possible but taking in the sight of him makes you more eager, cock twitching as Simon moans almost silently, slipping into more of a rhythm.

Over the next few minutes he gradually increases his pace until he's able to rapidly bounce up and down on your cock, your brain almost short-circuiting as you try and meet him thrust for thrust, pleasure coursing through your body. Your hands circle aroud to grab his cheeks, massaging the plump muscle as he switches back to grinding against you, your cock bumping against his prostate with every movement.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, until finally Simon breathlessly speaks. "Christ love, I'm close." It ignites a spark in your brain, redoubling your efforts as you begin to move Simon hard and fast up and down your cock, your own need for release beginning to surge as he moans, face lax with pleasure.

As he climbs higher and higher he babbles unintelligible curses, breathing harshly with exertion. It only takes a few more thrusts until Simon is throwing his head back with exclamation, a curse erupting from his lips as he cums, body quaking around you as his release triggers yours, your cock erupting with white ropes as you paint his insides, your hips still thrusting as his hole milks you for all you can give.

You stay like this for minutes, drawing each other's pleasure out for as long as possible until Simon stops, planting a hand on your chest and panting, his thighs burning with effort as tries to keep himself up. He groans in discomfort as he manages to lift himself just enough to flop down on his back next to you, throwing an arm over his eyes as he tries to catch his breath.

An ache is still deeply burrowed in your gut, cock painfully hard and twitching for more as you roll to hover over Simon, planting kisses against his lips, jaw, throat, trailing down his chest and then back up until you're settled between his legs, cock rubbing against his as your tongue invades his mouth, desire giving way to feral need.

It's a struggle to draw back only just enough to whisper against his lips "Ok to keep going?", brain struggling to form the sentence properly before you're kissing him again. He silently nods and it's all you need, cock easily sliding back into him thanks to cum that sticks to his walls. Everything feels more intense as he rocks up and down the bed, his nails pressing into your back and leaving crescent-shaped indents when you lean down to capture his mouth, only breaking apart when you need to breathe.

This time with each thrust you tug at his cock, his body arching up as he quickly grows to full hardness, his cock starting to weep precum as the head of your dick brushes against his prostate, unfiltered moans mixing in the air. His pleasure increases your own, the sight of him desperately trying to find his peak, the way he tries to jerk up into your hand, his flushed face and eyes unable to open and the feeling of your cock gliding through his hole tips you dangerously close to the edge.

Thankfully you don't have to wait long, the change in Simon's breaths, the way he bears down so you're fully inside him signals his impending release, and with a few more thrusts and rolls of your hand over his cock he's lifting up as high as he can, body sucking you in and cock spitting strings of white across his stomach. You follow soon after, dumping another load deep inside, your bodies quaking and jerking with pleasure as you ride out your highs. Your hips don't stop, trying to release as much as you can while Simon twitches with relief.

He groans, tenderness and oversensitivity settling in as you barely manage to stop your hips, cock still rock hard within him, only just slowly grinding as you babble into the crook of his neck. "Just one more please, I'm close, I'm so close". Your brain is muddled, desperate for release.

He's tired now - mumbling an "Ok" as you change positions, pushing Simon onto his hands and knees and rapidly pushing back inside, your thighs already slapping against the back of his in a harsh pace. The force behind your thrusts knock him forward, Simon instead choosing to drop to resting on his arms, your cock nudging deep within him and bullying his prostate, whining groans accompanying each thrust as his body is beginning to tip from pleasure to pain.

The twinge in your stomach feels different this time; more intense, and your whole body feels overwhelmed, each slap of your hips causing the knot at the base of your dick to begin to swell, and grow larger and thicker until eventually Simon can feel it pressing against his rim every time you bury yourself completely within him.

Pure desperation to cum drives your hips forward, thrusting hard and rough until your knot is pushed inside, a vicious groan of pleasure filling the air as you're locked to Simon, your cock twitching and pulsing as you cum one final time, pouring everything you have into him as you hold him by the hips, Simon loudly cursing as his cock explodes underneath him, threads of white spraying across the bed and even covering his chest.

Your arms can't hold you up anymore, collapsing onto your side as euphoria thrums through your veins, your skin sticky with sweat as you hold Simon to your chest, your knot firmly in place, locking you together.

Simon tries to adjust and the silence is broken, the movement causing his rim to tug on your knot, a hiss deep from your lungs as your cock twitches, a small pulse of cum oozing out into the depths of his hole, your hand quickly holding onto his hip, silently begging him not to move again as your brain is fried. He groans, exhaustion wracking through his body as he feels you twitch inside, unable to go another round.

* * *

A relieved groan escapes from the depths of his chest when he steps under the warm shower, the water instantly relieving his aching muscles. He remains there for a few minutes, letting the warmth wash over him until he hears the bathroom door open and shut, and then the shower doors slide open, cold air rushing in briefly until you quickly shut it again.

Simon steps to the side for you to immediately step under the deluge, your skin warming before you take his hand to pull him towards you, standing chest against chest as you cup his jaw and kiss him; slow, relaxed, in no rush at all. You moan into his mouth as he deepens the kiss briefly, only to quickly be replaced by a disappointed groan when he breaks away and looks down, huffling slightly when he finds the source of what was poking him in the stomach.

"You're hard again?" He questions, slightly confused with the memories of the previous night still rattling in his bones.

You make a point of your eyes sweeping over his figure, his skin glistening under the water, droplets trickling down his muscles. Backing him against the shower wall you trail kisses across his throat, hands trailing down his hips and then behind, each grabbing a handful of his ass. "Do you blame me?"

Simon grunts, blood trailing down his body to his cock, despite the tiredness and the aching he can't help but get excited at another round, thinking that offering to help with your heat is one of the best things he's ever done.

[kvthgok]

Don't Forget It | Miguel O'Hara x Young Teen Reader (Platonic)

Warnings- mention of semi toxic parents

Summary- You rant to Miguel about all your family problems since things are tough right now in your household due to your parents getting a divorce.

Side note- surprise surprise its not proofread 🌝 hehe....

I was having a tough time these past months. My parents were getting a divorce. All night I would hear them arguing. I had told Miguel whats been happening . Well more like rambling all my family problems to him. He was a great listener even if it seemed like he wasn’t listening. He was, he cared.

“You know if your parents keep giving you a hard time you can crash at the HQ.” He said glancing at me

I nodded while eating a some food I got from the cafeteria. Crumbs falling out my mouth while talking,” Mhm I know, don’t worry— but I just don’t know why they would wanna get a divorce Miguel? My parents were sooooo IN LOVE with each other ” I rambled

He continued to work looking at the cameras making sure there was no anomaly’s.

Miguel spoke still looking at the cameras, “Sometimes people change, it happens a lot. You really shouldn’t be worried.”

“Your parents will figure it out. For now, what you should be thinking about is school finals. Don’t want you failing those.”

“Yeah yeah but-“

“Y/n, focus on your finals instead. You have some of the toughest finals that the school has to offer. Just worry about those. Okay?” He stopped and looked at her.

“How could I do that when my parents are arguing all the fucking time?” I mumbled rolling my eyes.

Miguel looked at her. “Y/n,” the words were sharp and clear like a warning.He never liked when I cussed.

“Your parents have their reasons, but you, I believe, should use that anger to push harder. And pass those damn finals.”

“Yeah yeah I will it’s whatever.”

“Whatever, Y/n.” He let out a silent sigh and returned to what he was doing before It was silent for a little bit.

Suddenly I spoke out, “They’ve gotten worse you know..” I said in a sad tone. Referring “They’ve” to my parents.

Miguel stopped typing, he knew what she meant. He didn’t want to ask though. But he knew he should say at least something in response.

He cleared his throat then spoke, “Have they?” Miguel knew the situation was bad just not how bad it was.

I nodded looking at the floor.

“Tell me, how bad is it?” Miguel asked with a soft voice. He looked like he really wanted to know.

“They’re starting to throw shit at each other” I raised my eyebrows

Miguel stayed silent for some time before saying, “Jesus, Y/n.” His words came with disbelief and disappointment. Miguel couldn’t believe this was what her parents were doing now. He's actually met my parents before but they seemed like they were in a good relationship.

“At this point I might as well live in the HQ” I chuckled attempting to joke around the situation.

Miguel had noticed that whenever Y/n was uncomfortable, she would try jokes and sarcasm. It was like she didn’t want to come off as weak. Miguel sighed, “Can you do me a favor and not use jokes and sarcasm when you talk to me about something personal? I get that it helps sometimes. But I really want you to open up to me whenever .” Miguel spoke in a calm and soft voice.

"But hey if you do need to stay here we always have some extra beds, and a large couch.” He added

I stayed quiet.

“Not every problem should be joked around.” Miguel paused for a moment and continued to speak.He didn’t want to make it a lesson, but he wanted Y/n to understand what he was trying to say. “Y/n, I know you have it tough at home.” He spoke in a way that sounded more like he was comforting me.

“It’s just—“ I stumbled over my own words not finishing what I was going to say. Instead I put my hand over my face dragging them down.

Miguel watched her silently as you dragged your hands down your face. Miguel had a feeling that I was going to cry, but he didn’t want to be the one to mention it. He continued to just watch me.

He stayed silent, waiting for me to continue or start crying. He really hoped it wasn’t the second option.

I took a deep sigh,” I just hate it there…I wish they’d go back to how they were before-“

“Y/n. Listen to me.” Miguel’s voice stayed calm and firm. “You can’t control your parent’s relationship.” He kept looking at me. He still wanted me to listen to what else he had to say.

Miguel stayed silent for a moment then spoke again. “However, you can control your emotions."

"Your parents can’t control your emotions. You can.” Miguel looked at Y/n, now wanting her to see what he was saying.

"You can try to control how this is affecting you.” Miguel said, still keeping his voice calm but stern.He waited until Y/n was paying full attention, he wanted her to understand his message here. Miguel sighed, Y/n seemed to not understand what he was trying to say.

“Look, sometimes things, things that are out of your control, happen in your life.” Miguel kept his voice soft. “That doesn’t mean you always need to be sad.”

Miguel watched her slowly turn to look at him. He still had a calming tone.

“I want you to do one thing, okay?” Miguel continued to speak. “I want you to find something that makes you happy.” Miguel paused for moment before speaking again. “The next time your parents fight, try to do this thing that makes you happy, and focus on it. Don’t pay any attention to what your parents say.”

“Alright” I said in a soft tone almost sounding like a whisper

“I know it’s hard to ignore your parents and their fighting. But if you try to ignore it, by doing something you enjoy. Time will fly and you won’t even remember why they started to fight in the first place.”

I small smile curved up,“mhm”

Miguel smiled back at her, happy that she was finally taking his advice. “And Y/n , if things get much worse at your house, just remember you can crash here for a while.” He paused once again. I nodded

“And if you ever want to talk some more, just look for me. I’m always willing to listen.” Miguel paused for a moment. “Okay? I need you to say it though…” Miguel looked at her, it was important to Miguel that you got the message.

“Mhm I understand Miggy”

Miguel smiled. The nickname “Miggy” really caught him off guard, you hadn’t called him that in a while “Good.” Miguel spoke again. His tone shifted into a more serious and concerned one. “Just Don’t forget it, alright?” Miguel looked at Y/n.

[bon2bonn]

My hand to hold p.3

Daniel Ricciardo X driver!reader

She liked to seclude herself before big races, sitting on the floor with her back to the wall away from the others as they chatted before they were called to head out , her headphones on and one of her classics playing on repeat as a mean to loosen up her mind before jumping in her car .

Danny always notice , he knows with one look what she feels and if she's having a good day or when she's not feeling so great, some days she'll try to engage in the conversations to distract herself , but when it's a particularly bad day she'd stay away from everyone, her voice gets quieter and her energy lower than usual.

On these days He'd let her have a moment of silence before deciding to keep her company . He'd just walk up to her , standing silently beside her untill she finally turn to give him attention . He gave her a cheeky smile when she raised a questioning eyebrow at him accustomed to his antics but never pushed him away , so he plopped down next to her his own headphones on , gesturing with his head to ask what she's listening to? ignoring her squinting eyes in the process. She huffed before turning her phone to him , showing the track playing along with the title, his eyes lit up before snatching her phone , connecting his headphones to let the music flow into his ears, restarting the track much to her annoyance , he then put it aside and out of the way while he stands back up , smiling as she followed his actions with her eyes, he stood tall with one hand behind his back and the other over his heart as he stood before her making her tilt her head in confusion as she watched him giving an exaggerated bow before extending his hand out for her asking for a dance.

She shook her head frantically raising her knees up in defense, he raised his eyebrows widening his eyes in attempt to get her to give in mouthing " please" patting his eyelashes for more effect , she only glared at him making him wiggle his eyebrows in triumph when she finally rolled her eyes at him , extended her hand out to put into his still waiting hand .

He helped her up , straighten his back but waited patiently , making her huff before giving a courtesy of her own with a still unimpressed face , stepping up to him as he extended his other hand out waiting for her to move , she took it before placing it on her back then placed hers on his shoulder, nodding along with the music flowing through their headphones before they started moving in sync with the notes , feet swiftly moving in harmony as they danced their way through the music .

He beamed with pride as he saw the worry and stress leaves her and be replaced with a more relaxed , a smile peeking it's way on her lips, his own smile widened as a giggle slipped out when he suddenly twirled her around before dipping her back, letting her grips his hand as she laughed in delight at the sudden move , her smile on full display as he held her back up and kept dancing to the last tone .

She ended the dance with another courtesy , her hand raised in his as she looked up at him , this time with her face blooming with a wide genuine smile as he bows once again giving her an equally wide grin , both tuning as they heard clapping from the other side not noticing the small audience watching them with a pleasingly surprised looks , with lando and Charles dancing or at least trying to on the side before they stumbled as lando stepped on Charles foot causing the Ferrari driver to let out a small scream before he hopped in pain lifting his injured foot which made lando sidesteps and tumble down dragging Charles with him .

Everyone turned to the fallen drivers, taking their attention away from the former duo who now sat back down against the wall with the female driver's head now leaning against Daniel's shoulder , his hand held between hers with her fingers tracing his tattoos delicately while he scrolled through his phone with the other, both basking in the comfortable silence of eachother company.

[alohajun]

♡ TREASURE’S REACTION WHEN YOU GIVE THEM THE SILENT TREATMENT

treasure x gn!reader | wc : 1.9k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationship, slight fluff, angst, mentions of wounds, mentions of arguments, use of petnames | request — hii can i request treasure reaction when you give them a silent treatment after an argument

CHOI HYUNSUK

🐷 as soon as he realizes you are giving him the silent treatment, he just walks away, letting you have some time to yourself while he does the same

🐷 broken between tryna speak to you and holding a vow of silence himself

🐷 he’s just pacing around the room, not knowing what to say or do because he’s practically fighting his own conscious

🐷 because if there’s two things our luis daniel gonsalves choi loves, it’s talking to you and hearing your voice

🐷 so after a lot of mental conflict, he’d stand in front of you, just blabbering whatever comes to his mind because he doesn’t know what else to do

🐷 and ofc, seeing how frustrated he is, you’d give in too, because you too can’t bear not talking to hyunsuk

🐷 "would you please forgive me so i can show you this song i wrote about you?"

PARK JIHOON

🐼 it literally is as impossible as it sounds bc there's no way jihoon would let you stay silent with him like that

🐼 "babe? what's up? are you not gonna talk to me? hm? okay, i see how it is."

🐼 couple minutes later, manz is in front of you, phone in ear as he speaks to you

🐼 "kyu is asking if you are down to hang out?" he'd ask, catching you off guard

🐼 there was no junkyu on the other line but ofc you didn't know that

🐼 you fell for his tactic as you replied, "yeah, sure."

🐼 jihoon would have a shit-eating grin on his face, blabbering smth to ensure you still believed he was talking to junkyu

🐼 "he's asking if you can make your brownies when you are coming?" "oh, okay, i can do that."

🐼 "kyu is also asking if you are still mad at me?" he'd try his luck, waiting for an answer

🐼 "no, not re—wait a minute!" you'd frown at jihoon, not amused by his little trick to get you to speak to him

🐼 "nuh–uh, you can't go back to your silence now. you already spoke to me, so keep it going."

KANEMOTO YOSHINORI

🐯 fights with yoshi don’t escalate too far because he knows how to take a step back and let the rage blow over so you two can address the issue calmly

🐯 so until your anger blew over, you went on a vow of silence, not realizing how much it affected yoshi when you didn’t respond to him

🐯 he only approached you twice before walking away, and you thought he knew your silence was just your way of letting the rage blow over

🐯 because after all, that was his method too, right?

🐯 poor baby tiger was crying in his room, wondering if it was the end of your relationship  

🐯 you’d walk into his room to see him crying, instantly feeling guilty when he explained why he was crying

🐯 you’d assure him with lots of love, letting him know you two weren’t breaking up any time soon

🐯 tldr; he's a soft baby, don't hurt him part one

🐯 "don't do that to me, love. i really thought you wouldn't speak to me again."

KIM JUNKYU

🐨 after the end of an argument, bro thinks everything is magically resolved and back to normal

🐨 he’d just assume things like “oh, maybe y/n didn’t hear me” or “maybe y/n is focused on smth else” when you don’t respond

🐨 “dude, you do know y/n is mad at you, right?” jihoon would ask when he sees his best friend constantly try to speak to you and just wave it off when you didn’t respond

🐨 and that’s when the meteor of realization would hit junkyu, and he’d instantly be there by your side, apologizing for being an idiot

🐨 as he blabbers, you can’t help but laugh at his explanation, and you’d let him know that it was all in the past, just advising him to be more attentive the next time

🐨 “i am gonna be super attentive from now on, i promise. nothing is gonna get past me!”

TAKATA MASHIHO

🐹 if you wanted to be petty and give him the silent treatment, he’d do the same

🐹 the house is absolutely silent as you two just don’t make any effort to talk to the other

🐹 you will still do your work around the house, just without sharing a single word between the two of you

🐹 that is until mashiho hurts himself while cooking because even tho he doesn’t admit it, he’s a bit worried if he went too far with the argument you two had

🐹 immediately, you are at his side, taking care of his wound as you checked on him, repeatedly making sure he was alright as you made him sit

🐹 the two of you would start talking after that, forgetting about your vows of silence until mashiho would bring it up later at night because he wanted to resolve the issue for good

🐹 “next time we fight, we are not pulling any of those silent treatments. we are gonna talk it out like adults, okay?”

YOON JAEHYUK

🦁 bro very much worships you 🥹🫶

🦁 nah but like he'd malfunction if you don't talk to him after an argument

🦁 usually, y'all sort out of your issues just fine and get it out of the way so this silent treatment was totally new

🦁 "babe? baby? my love? y/n?"

🦁 his voice was getting more desperate with every word, brows furrowed as he panicked a little at the lack of your response

🦁 jaehyuk wouldn't leave your side, stuck to you as he tried to get you to speak to him again

🦁 the breaking point was when he'd tear up as he spoke to you, instantly making you throw your arms as you consoled him

🦁 tldr; he's a soft baby, don't hurt him part two

🦁 "i'm really sorry, y/n. please just talk to me again. i'm sorry."

HAMADA ASAHI

🤖 asahi is pretty silent himself, so he instantly catches on when you don’t talk to him

🤖 he’ll run every possible scenario through his head regarding your lack of speech, and it’d land on the fact you two very recently had a disagreement

🤖 at first, he’d give you the space you need, thinking you’d come around after a couple of hours, but when it doesn’t work, he’s overwhelmed

🤖 will give his friends a call, because he’s unsure if he should give you more time or just fall at your feet and beg for mercy

🤖 thankfully, yoshi and mashiho had good advice for him, which asahi immediately carried out, approaching you and asking if you two could talk

🤖 once you nodded, he’d sit down and discuss the situation, wondering if it was because of the argument you two had

🤖 he’d apologize for driving you to the point where you had to give him a silent treatment for him to understand

🤖 “i'm sorry, my love. let’s promise to talk out our issues next time, okay?”

BANG YEDAM

🦊 like mashiho, yedam would give you the silent treatment as well

🦊 he thinks he’s winning, thinking he’s proving a point by joining you out of pettiness

🦊 but you weren’t backing down and he was getting slightly annoyed, so he’d resort to phase two of the plan

🦊 kissing the silence out of you

🦊 it’s just as simple as it sounds; yedam would kiss you all over your face until you had to talk to him

🦊 you two would be giggly messes as he pulled away, all the arguments forgotten as you two stared at each other, just happy to be together

🦊 “you can’t try that on me, babes. my kisses are a master of conflict resolution.”

KIM DOYOUNG

🐰 instantly picks up that you are giving him the silent treatment because he notices your lack of words

🐰 doyoung would recount whatever happened and will think about the argument you two had earlier, wondering if anything he said struck a chord with you

🐰 because fights with you two don’t end badly, since you two always to resolve things

🐰 he’d sit you down and talk it out, apologizing if he said anything out of line to hurt your feelings and you’d do the same, appreciating the fact he apologized

🐰 doyoung would defo crack a joke or two as soon as you resolve things, earning a playful punch from you at his words

🐰 “now explicitly describe exactly how painful it was for you to not talk to me.”

WATANABE HARUTO

🦙 can’t believe your audacity to give him the silent treatment part one

🦙 he’d play along with your antics, shrugging and walking away when you wouldn’t respond to him

🦙 ruto would just behave as he usually does, just not talking as much because there wasn’t a point in doing so if you weren’t gonna respond

🦙 you’d soon catch onto his behavior, realizing your silent treatment was backfiring since he wasn’t reacting to any of it

🦙 but just as you are about to give in and talk to him, ruto will approach you, a worried look on his face because it’s been literal hours since you last spoke to him

🦙 “you aren’t going to break up with me, are you?”

🦙 and that’s when you realize it’s gone too far, quickly pulling him into your embrace as you apologized for letting things escalate this far

🦙 “i seriously hate you for this. but thank goodness, you aren’t that mad at me. i love you too much, it hurts.”

PARK JEONGWOO

🐺 can’t believe your audacity to give him the silent treatment part two

🐺 literally scoffs in your face when you don’t respond to him

🐺 “oh, is this what we’re doing, huh?” 🙄😑🤔😤

🐺 will wait around a bit to see if you change up, but after a couple of hours if you still don’t talk, he’s gonna turn to his last resort

🐺 whining; manz is gonna annoy you into speaking to him again

🐺 but ofc after being with him for so long, you were unfazed which would then just deflate his mood

🐺 “are you really going to do this?” 🥺😭☹️🥹

🐺 you’d defo cave in after seeing his pouty face, giving him a kiss before talking to him again

🐺 “talk to me again, y/n, hm? please?”

SO JUNGHWAN

🐮 super king cow baby will be so pouty when you give him the silent treatment

🐮 even after he apologized, you wouldn’t utter a single word and just blankly stare at him, making him even sadder

🐮 after lots of pleads, hwan would defo get on his knees as he stood in front of you, absolutely no hesitation in begging you to speak to him

🐮 “i'm gonna stay like until you forgive me, so please talk to me, y/n.”

🐮 you though he was joking, you really did

🐮 but when he followed you on his knees when you walked around, you felt super bad, realizing he was super serious about his words

🐮 immediately kneeling next to him, you’d apologize for your childish behavior, checking on junghwan to see if he was hurt

🐮 if he was hurt, you’d feel super guilty, tears pricking your eyes, but junghwan would only smile, just happy to hear talking to him

🐮 “i'm fine. seriously, i am. i just wanted to hear you talk to me again.”

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Check Ups - A.H x Reader

IM SORRY TO THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS I LOST YOUR ASK!!!!

This is the “doctor and Aaron flirting and going on a date and getting together”

Thank you for my first ever request!! I loooooved this idea and I hope that I wrote it well enough.

Not proofread!! (Also I kind of messed up so ignore that Jack was canonically three at this point and pretend he’s ten for me)

Content: Hotch and his Doctor have feelings for eachother and go on a few dates (pure fluff)

Word count: 1.3k

Hope you enjoy x

Ever since a fatal explosion involving the FBI, SSA Aaron Hotchner had become a regular patient of yours. It was your job to assess him regularly for the next few months to ensure that he was still safe for duty.

So here you were, stood by the side of the man. His boss, Erin Strauss had warned you in advance that Aaron could be stoic and closed off but from your experience he was far from either.

"I'm seeing some great improvements in your hearing, how have you been feeling about your hearing?" You ask softly, glad to see so much improvement.

"Pardon, sorry i couldn't hear you?" He jokes, his eyes crinkling in the corner as he smiles. Although he was a very friendly man you could see how he could appear cold. His sharp features set a professional president but the minute he smiled his whole demeanour was warm.

"Nice to see you got your humour back Aaron, but I do have the power to take your job away from you so I'm gonna need some honesty." You remind him, doing your best not to laugh, as not to give him any sense of pride.

"God, I love a woman with authority." He chuckles, leaning back in his chair pretending to admire you. Although his gaze was joking something about it had your head reeling. Every appointment with Aaron had you sat in your office giggling like a lovestruck school girl the moment he left.

"Aaron, I think this might be our last appointment." You sigh, pulling a card out from one of your draws and scribbling your number on it. "Call this number if anything gets worse"

As you spoke, Aaron's expression softened, the reality of this being your last appointment sinking in. The thought of not seeing you regularly anymore filled him with an unexpected phone sense of sorrow.

He took the card from you, his fingers grazing yours for a moment longer than necessary. Looking down at the numbers scribbled down and he nodded silently. "I'll remember that."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few painfully normal days go by for both of you, falling into the same old routine as always.

Aaron sat at his desk, twirling a pen between his fingers as he stared at his phone, silently debating whether or not to call you. After several minutes of internal debate, he caved and dialled your number. His heart rate picked up as the phone began to ring, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

When you answered, he paused for a moment, his voice coming out a bit hesitant. "Hi, It's Aaron Hotchner. Sorry for calling out of the blue like this."

You rush over to your planner, secretly elated to hear his voice again, to potentially have another appointment with him. "Don't apologise, what's going on, are you getting those headaches again? Sensitivity to sound? Has your hearing gotten worse?"

Aaron chuckled softly at your questions, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over him. It was heart warming to know that you still cared about his well-being, even though this wasn't an official appointment.

"No, no" he assured you, "I'm not calling because my headaches are back or anything like that. My hearing's still fine." He paused for a moment, his tone growing slightly serious. "There's actually something else I wanted to talk about."

You pause for a second, succumbing to your nerves as he announces this down the line. You'd had the 'I need to talk to you' talk countless times but never from a patient. You just wait silently for him to elaborate.

There was a brief moment of silence as Aaron debated the best way to approach this. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for your reaction.

"Listen" He said, his voice more apprehensive than you had ever heard it. Almost foreign from the confident man you had been treating. "I've been thinking about you lately. Not just as my doctor... And I know it's not appropriate for me to call like this without violating my medical ethics but-"

"Are you free mid day tomorrow? I could really go for some good lunch with a handsome man." You interrupt with a sudden burst of confidence, a giddy smirk playing on your face.

Aaron was taken slightly off guard by your sudden display of confidence, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He chuckled lightly, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"A mid day lunch, huh?" He paused contemplating his schedule for a moment. "Yeah, I'm free." Excitement flickered in his eyes. "Name the time and place, and I'll be there."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day you enter the café more nervous than you anticipated, taking a seat at a small corner table.

Aaron arrived at the café a few minutes after you in an outfit far more casual than you usually saw him. He usually wore his work suit but seeing him in a t-shirt that he filled perfectly left your cheeks heating up. His eyes scanned the room until he spotted you sitting at the corner table. His heartbeat quickened a notch as he walked over to you, a mix of nervousness and anticipation swirling inside of him.

He offered you a warm smile as he sat down across from you. "Hey," he greeted, his voice a touch gentler than normal "You look beautiful today."

You smile softly, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks as the man takes a seat “thank you, Aaron.” You say, wracking your brain to say something nice about him, but he knows by the way that you look at him that you think the world of him. And to him that means more than words.

He chuckled softly, a warm smile playing on his lips. "You don't have to say anything." He reached across the table, his fingers lightly grazing the back of your hand. "Your eyes speak volumes."

“I knew asking a profiler on a date was a terrible idea.” You joke, although something about him being able to read you so well makes you feel comfortable, seen almost.

“So this is officially a date?” He smirks as he glances over the menu

————————————————————————

The date is successful, as are the next few.

Tonight you’re baby sitting Jack for him. He’s a sweet kid, much nicer than most you meet, and very mature for his age.

“Y’know my dad talks about you a lot.” He says nonchalantly as he builds a Lego wall so his transformers can defend themselves against his nerf gun

“Oh yeah?” You ask calmly, trying not to poke your head in too much.

“It’s nice that he has a girlfriend now.” Jack replies simply, not really knowing the impact of what he’d said.

Of course you and Aaron had gotten very close through your dates but you had never thought that he’d want a relationship with you.

“You think I’m his girlfriend?” You laugh

“Well not yet. But I’m almost certain he wants you to be.”

Unbeknownst to the two of you Aaron had just come into the house and looks into the living room where the two of you sit.

“Jack. That’s enough of exposing me for tonight. Let’s get you to bed.” He says fatherly, he’s so good with Jack.

He glances to you softly “I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

It feels like an age that he’s up there, you can’t distinguish the words but you can hear soft words being exchanged between father and son. You wait impatiently shuffling on the balls of your feet.

After about fifteen minutes you finally hear his gentle footsteps coming down the stairs.

You stand in the living room nervously chewing your finger nails.

“Hey..” he says softly, finally hanging his jacket up after his long day

“Was Jack right?” You ask quietly.

He nods, confirming every thing you hoped was true. Your heartbeat increases as he nods and you stop chewing your nails, you rush over to him flinging your arms around his neck.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, kissing the top of your head.

“More than anything.” You mumble, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“I should probably go and tell my little man the good news before he falls asleep.”

[perfectsunlight]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑.𝟐𝐤

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: ✔

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬.

“i want to see you.”

you ran a hand through your hair, letting irene’s statement run through your mind as you held your phone in the other. it was always like this. the same song and dance, the same rhyme and rhythm. you knew this was a bad idea, but for some reason you always found yourself falling right back into the motions.

“i don’t know, joohyun.” the answer you gave her was one you always said, it was your scripted excuse. you always said you didn’t know, but you always knew you’d end up beside her in bed.

the sigh from the other end of the phone was also something you had often heard before. 

“please.” 

her whisper was loud enough to hear since the phone was next to your ear, and you could already feel an all too familiar feeling bubbling inside your chest. your silence however, was interrupted by the idol woman once again.

“just one last time.”

and like all the other nights before, you knew you couldn’t say no. you could never say no to her.

your foot stepped out of the taxi before you exited the vehicle. ​​the moonlight, filtering through wispy clouds, casts an ethereal glow that adds an otherworldly ambiance. it painted a mosaic of muted grays and blacks, revealing only glimpses of the surrounding landscape—twisted tree branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, silhouettes of buildings standing tall and mysterious, and the faint glimmer of distant stars.

as you shut the door, you could hear the driver pull away as your feet lead you down the same sidewalk you had walked on every other night. the familiar path felt both comforting and unsettling. each step brought you closer to her, closer to the embrace of uncertainty that consumed your heart. the city of seoul was hushed, as if it held its breath in anticipation of your arrival. the only sounds were the echoes of your own footsteps on the pavement, a rhythmic cadence that mirrored the racing of your pulse.

you approached the building where irene resided, its facade cloaked in shadows. the dimly lit entrance beckoned you forward, a portal to a world where reality blurred with desire and consequences were momentarily forgotten. as you reached for the doorknob, a rush of apprehension coursed through your veins, but it was drowned out by the simple fact that you knew the woman inside was waiting for you.

for a moment, you needed to remind yourself that you agreed to come see her again.

inside, the hallway was bathed in a dim glow emanating from scattered lampposts, casting elongated shadows along the walls. with each step, your resolve wavered, but you pushed forward, unable to resist the gravitational pull that drew you to her.

the elevator ride up was silent, the only sound being the soft hum of the ascending lift. your reflection in the mirrored walls seemed to mirror your inner turmoil, the image of someone torn between surrendering to passion and battling against the inevitable heartache. your heart pounded in your chest, echoing the anxious beat of anticipation.

irene always made your heart beat right out of your chest, even if it was for all of the wrong reasons.

the doors slid open, revealing the corridor outside her door. the soft glow of muted lights spilled from the gaps beneath it, casting a warm glow that both welcomed and warned. you hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the door, the weight of the choices you had made before, and the one you were about to  make again, heavy on your shoulders.

with a deep breath, you knocked gently. after a slight pause, the door swung open, revealing a sight that both comforted and haunted you. 

irene stood there, a vision in the dimly lit room. her eyes, filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability, locked with yours. it was a silent plea, an invitation to cross the threshold and surrender to the night–to surrender to her. 

without words, you stepped into her world, the door closing behind you, shutting out your voices of logic and reason in the process. 

inside, the atmosphere was charged with unspoken desires and unfinished conversations. the air felt heavy, thick with the weight of past encounters and the anticipation of what was yet to come. the room itself was adorned with a delicate balance of charisma and illusion, as if it were an extension of irene's enigmatic persona.

the presence of the silver-tongued woman enveloped you, drawing you closer like a moth to a flame. she reached out, her fingertips grazing your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. the touch was electric, adding fuel to a fire only she could ignite.

“we do this every time, irene,” you whispered into the darkness, staring at her as she continued to caress your cheek. “i want more, but i’m not yours.”

the idol’s demeanor remained unchanged, as if you were saying something so trivial that it truly meant nothing to her. it was like all irene ever heard from you were words, words that you always said to her to try and make her feel something more for you.

but irene didn’t ever change the way she felt about you because she never felt anything more for you. not now, not ever.

“i know,” the woman answered while leaning in closer to your lips. “but you’re still mine.”

the words hung in the air, weaving a complex web of desire and deception. her breath caressed your skin, her lips a whisper away from yours, tempting you to give in once again. it was a dangerous game she played, intertwining pleasure with pain, leaving you entangled in her spell.

you tried to resist the magnetic pull, the allure that she exuded effortlessly. but in that moment, rationality crumbled under the weight of your longing, your craving for a connection that surpassed the boundaries she had set. your heart waged war with your mind, torn between the knowledge of her manipulation and the intoxicating allure she wielded so effortlessly.

the room seemed to pulse with a clandestine energy, as if it held secrets that whispered through the cracks in the walls. it was a place where truths remained unspoken, where darkness and desire danced in harmony. but beneath the allure, you knew the truth—she was a master of illusion, a temptress who lured unsuspecting souls into her web.

with a surge of determination, you mustered the strength to break free from her grasp, the electricity of her touch still tingling on your skin. your voice wavered, laced with a mixture of vulnerability and defiance.

"no, irene," you whispered, your words carrying the weight of a final plea. "i won't be a pawn in your game of manipulation. i deserve more than this illusion of intimacy."

her eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and frustration, the cracks in her composed facade widening ever so slightly. for a fleeting moment, vulnerability flashed across her features, a glimpse of the person she hid behind her manipulative mask. but it was quickly replaced by a mask of indifference, a shield against her own emotions.

"you're always so stubborn," she murmured, her voice tinged with a hint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. "but remember, you came to me willingly. you're the one who keeps coming back."

her words hit you like a dagger, piercing through the fragile armor you had built around yourself. she was right, in a twisted sense. you had willingly walked into this labyrinth of desire and deceit, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. 

you couldn’t answer her, because she was right. even though she called, you always answered. at any moment, you could have said no, but you never did. this was your doing just as much as hers.

with tears of frustration falling from your eyes, you leaned in and closed the distance between your lips. words were unnecessary, for your bodies spoke a language that transcended the conversation itself.

as the night unfolded, you found solace in each other's arms. the weight of your inhibitions slipped away, replaced by a raw, unfiltered connection. every touch, every kiss, was an act of surrender to the irresistible pull that had brought you together once again.

irene was under you, her hands tangled in your hair and your tears falling onto her face. you wanted to scream at her, to cry, to do a million things all at once, but you couldn’t escape her. you had never been able to push her away without pulling her back in.

“i hate you. i hate you so much. but i love you.” you whispered against her lips, feeling the way irene’s hands slid to the hem of your shirt. the older woman only chuckled, tugging your shirt over your head. “i know, darling. i know you do.” and with that, she leaned in for another passionate kiss.

the room became a sanctuary of tangled limbs and muted cries, a battleground where pleasure and pain merged into a bittersweet symphony. each moment etched itself into your memory, blurring the lines between ecstasy and anguish. 

it was a dance of contradictions, a collision of two souls entangled in a web of both of your making.

you moved together, bodies synchronized in a rhythm born from familiarity. the physical union spoke volumes, drowning out the unspoken words that lingered between you. in that space, nothing else mattered—no past, no future, only the present moment, where time stood still.

but even in the throes of passion, an unspoken truth lingered. 

you both knew that this would end as it always did, with the fading embers of desire and the weight of regret settling upon your chests. the knowledge that your hearts would remain unfulfilled gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, threatening to shatter the fragile illusion you had created.

as the intensity peaked, irene's voice mingled with your ragged breaths, whispering words that carried both tenderness and a hint of resignation.

"i can't promise you more," she confessed, her voice laced with a touch of feigned guilt. "but you should know that by now." irene always did this. she always played the victim, making herself the sad and lonely idol who needed someone to use to forget about her problems. even your own friends told you to stop seeing the idol because even they knew she would never see you as someone more than a midnight vice.

in that instant, the truth echoed louder than ever before. your souls were intertwined in a paradoxical dance of need and denial, bound by a connection that defied reason. it was a twisted embrace, one that offered both solace and torment, leaving you trapped in a cycle of longing.

but you already knew that. you had always known that.

your emotions enveloped you, wrapping around your entwined bodies as you finally succumbed to the pull of desire. in that moment, nothing else mattered. the night held its secrets, and you willingly surrendered to its embrace.

as the final waves of pleasure subsided, you lay entangled in each other's arms, the room steeped in a familiar unbreakable silence. it was a silence that spoke volumes, a silence that carried the weight of your broken heart and irene’s twisted words.

you gazed into irene's eyes, searching for answers that would never come. in that moment, you realized the futility of trying to change what could not be changed. the realization brought a bittersweet liberation—a letting go of the illusions that had held you captive for so long.

with a heavy heart, you disentangled yourself from her embrace, collecting the fragments of your shattered desires. the room felt emptier now, devoid of the charged energy that had once filled it. it was time to step away from the dance, to find the strength within yourself to break free from the cycle that bound you to irene.

as you dressed in silence, the air thick with unsaid goodbyes, you knew that this would be the last time. the last time you would succumb to the allure of her touch, the last time you would seek solace in the hollow promises she whispered in the dark.

with one final glance, you turned away, walking towards the door that separated you from a future untethered by manipulation and unrequited longing. the weight of what could have been clung to your shoulders, but with each step you could feel the tears in your eyes forming once again.

the door closed behind you, shutting out the room's lingering ghosts, and as you stepped into the night, a mixture of immense sadness and longing washed over you. why did you miss her already? why did you suddenly want to run back inside and let her hold you tight in her web of lies? how could you let this happen to yourself?

as you walked into the unknown, you vowed to find a love that would be built on honesty, authenticity, and reciprocity—a love that would liberate rather than ensnare. 

but amidst the emotions inside your heart, there lingered a bittersweet undercurrent of knowing. deep down, you were aware that this momentary escape would only fuel the flames of longing, making the eventual separation all the more agonizing. 

once you returned home you laid in your own bed and cried again. you were never allowed to stay in irene’s arms for long. you were not hers, you never were, and never will be. with you tossing and turning in your sheets, you realized that the only thing harder than sleeping alone was sleeping with her ghost.

the hours slipped away and the first hints of dawn colored the sky, with reality beginning to seep back into your mind. the memories of hushed whispers and stolen glances now carried a tinge of melancholy, for you understood that transient nature of your rendezvous. 

the next day dragged on slowly, making your heart ache more with this endless longing for irene. you were tired beyond description. everything hurt, inside and out, and the absence from her was killing you. she was like a drug, really. 

and you were an addict, hooked on her illusions and deceptions. you knew she wasn’t good for you, but whenever you were without her it felt like you were going through withdrawals.

once the sky turned into a mural of blue and black, you found yourself sitting in the back of the taxi with a hoodie over your head and eyelashes wet from crying. the sounds of the road and the night time radio filled the otherwise quiet car ride. how ironic was it that a red velvet song started playing during the drive?

maybe it was a sign? maybe you were doing the right thing?

upon arriving at your destination, you climbed out of the cab and began walking briskly down the path you knew all too well. your tears fell from your eyes as you rode the same elevator up, looking at your reflection that seemed to be even more shattered now. 

once the doors opened up, you walked briskly down the hall with balled fists and eyes full of pain. irene’s front door came into view, and you knocked three times like you always did.

and per usual, the idol woman opened it, staring at you with her eyes of lust and mouth full of lies.

“one last time.” you whispered, voice crackling as tears cascaded down your cheeks even faster.

irene only smugly smirked at you, the machiavellian mastermind pulling you inside by the arm. “one last time.” 

as irene pulled you closer, her touch igniting that familiar fire within you, you felt a tumultuous blend of emotions coursing through your veins. every fiber of your being screamed for release, for a final taste of the intoxicating spell she wove around you.

in the depths of your heart, you knew this was a dangerous game. 

you were willingly stepping back into the web she had carefully spun, knowing full well the consequences that awaited you on the other side. but there was a part of you, a part that craved her touch and longed for the illusion of intimacy she provided, that couldn't resist the allure.

as your lips met in a desperate embrace, a collision of passion and anguish, time seemed to stand still. the room faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a battle of wills and desires. with each movement, each stolen breath, you clung to the fleeting moments that were slipping through your fingers.

but deep down, you understood the fragility of the illusion. beneath the surface, the cracks were growing wider, threatening to shatter the delicate façade that had kept you enthralled for far too long. you knew that once this encounter ended, you would once again be left with emptiness and regret, your heart in tatters.

yet, in that moment, you couldn't help but surrender to the familiar rhythm of passion and deceit. the weight of your unspoken words mingled with the heaviness of your tears, as if the truth itself was drowning in the whirlpool of your emotions.

a part of you wanted to believe that this could be different. 

that somehow, in this final act, you could break free from the chains that bound you to irene. but deep down, you knew it was just an illusion—a last-ditch effort to salvage what little remained of your shattered connection.

when the final whispers of ecstasy faded and reality began to seep back into the room, a hollowness settled within you. the weight of what could have been pressed upon your chest, threatening to suffocate any remnants of hope that lingered.

as you lay there, entangled yet distant, the truth hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste. this was the end, the culmination of a twisted dance that had consumed both your heart and your sanity. there would be no more chances, no more illusions to cling to.

with an aching heart, you untangled yourself from irene's grasp, feeling a mix of longing and resentment coursing through your veins. the room felt colder now, the remnants of your time together mocking you from every corner.

as you hastily dressed, you could feel irene's eyes upon you, a smug satisfaction dancing in her gaze. she had won, once again manipulating your emotions to serve her own desires. but this time, something within you had shifted. a spark of defiance flickered in your eyes as you looked at her one last time.

"no more," you whispered, your voice tinged with false strength. "this is truly the end. i am not yours."

irene's smirk never faltered. with a dismissive chuckle, her eyes shone full of the same lustful arrogance that had drawn you in time and time again.

"you'll be back," she declared, her voice dripping with a mix of confidence and cruelty. “you are still mine.”

[shelbystales]

Ceramic Lessons - Part Seven

Cillian Murphy X Reader - Masterlist

Summary: after much insistence from his sister, Cillian attends a ceramics class with her. To his surprise, he feels a connection to the teacher, you. Will this connection go any further or will it be smashed like a bad ceramic project?

Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Warning: swearing, fluff and mention of drugs

A/n: hey guys! please don’t forget to let me know what you think! Hope you like it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Hey, is everything okay?" you asked as you approached him.

"Oh, yeah," he responded quickly, stealing a glance at you before returning his attention to the screen in his hands.

"Are you sure?" you insisted, placing a comforting hand on his back as you sat next to him.

He gave you a gentle smile and a short sigh escaped his lips. "Yeah, it’s just… It's my ex-wife," he started, a tired tone in his words. "She called me like a hundred times last night. My phone was down here and in silent mode. I didn't see it," he sounded frustrated.

"What happened? Is your son okay?" you asked, concern evident in your voice.

"I don't know," he sighed. "She's not picking up." He shook the phone.

"Did she text you or something?"

"No, nothing" he shook his head.

"Who called just now?"

"Sile. She wanted to know if I was coming to your class today," he chuckled, and you smiled.

"Well, I am sure you have nothing to worry about, huh? She’s got things covered, probably figured things out on her own?" you said, your hand gently running through his soft hair, trying to give him some comfort.

"Yeah, I am not so sure," he replied, locking the screen and tossing the phone to the side.

You frowned and waited for him to elaborate, but he sat there quietly lost in his own thoughts.

"Why?" you asked, adopting a caring tone in your voice, unsure if it was a sore topic for him.

He took a deep breath and locked his blue eyes with yours, silently debating whether to share or not. Your hand continued to leave patterns on his hair and neck, offering support in the best way you could. You could sense the tension in him.

"She is not a very good mother," he shrugged. "Not nowadays, at least."

"What do you mean?"

"You know how I told you my divorce got ugly? How she played Lukas as a joker card in her bargains?" he asked, and you nodded. "Did I tell you what was my breaking point?"

"You told me she cheated," you reminded.

"Yeah, but we stayed together for a few months after that," he sighed frustrated. "How about we make some coffee?" he suggested, and you nodded, following his lead to the kitchen.

As he filled the coffee grounds into the machine, his mind seemed elsewhere. You leaned against the counter, giving him time to collect his thoughts. The aroma of brewing coffee gradually filling the kitchen air.

Walking over to him, after he finished, you kissed his cheek and then his warm lips. His hand held you strongly, hugging you tightly against him.

"You know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you said, breaking the kiss.

"I want to; it's just... It's not a nice breakfast topic after such a great night," he explained.

"Being vulnerable is never easy; it has nothing to do with being during breakfast or after a great night," you smiled.

"Right," he smiled back, taking a small deep breath once again. "We went to a lot of parties when we were together. She’s an agent, so we had to, you know, to network. And she ended up having some friends that weren’t such a good influence. When we met, she had some problems with addiction but it was under control for years. She took care of herself. But after some time, she just stopped. I guess it was the people she started hanging out with, the people she started managing… they took her to the wrong path and i denied seeing it. Her actions started to make no sense, and after I realized what was happening, I tried to help. I know she's sick, and everything she was doing was a reflection of that. So, I went with it for a very long time. Allowing her actions to hurt me with no consequences at all. I tried to hospitalize her once, but that wasn’t pretty… so I tried every other possible way… none worked. I mean, they worked for a while but then just stopped. At that point I was a mess. My family was worried about me and constantly told me to just leave her. But I couldn’t, I felt guilty. I couldn’t be the one to destroy Lukas' family… but I just didn’t notice that she was the one doing it. My breaking point was when i found out she did coke in front of Lukas on a normal Tuesday morning as we were getting ready to take him to school”

“Oh my god…” you whispered as you reacted.

“Yeah… and I didn't even know it until he asked me, 'What was mommy sniffing, daddy? Does it smell good? Is it a flower? Did you give her flowers?' Those were his words as we walked out of the house hand in hand to the car. That was the end for me." he said, his voice not hiding the discomfort of the memories

“I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that, Cillian. It must have been tough for you and also for Lukas” you said. You tried your best to fill out the silence, but you didn't really know what to say.

The weight of his revelation hung in the air, and you could feel the gravity of the moment.

He took another deep breath, and you continued to run your fingers through his hair, offering a silent reassurance.

"Yeah, I tried to protect Lukas, you know? Shield him from the chaos inside his mom’s head," he continued, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of the past. "But that was a wake-up call. I couldn't let her jeopardize our son's well-being any longer… nor mine. She didn't want help, or at least she didn’t want my help."

The coffee machine signaled its completion, and he poured the steaming liquid into two mugs. The warmth emanating from the freshly brewed coffee filled the air, making you sniff the air enjoying the smell.

As you both settled at the table with your mugs, he glanced at you, gratitude evident in his eyes. "Thanks for listening. It's not easy talking about this, but you make it easy."

You offered a reassuring smile. "I appreciate you sharing, and I'm here for you. Lukas is lucky to have you looking out for him."

He nodded, a mixture of emotions crossing his face. "Yeah, he's my priority."

"So, if you don’t want to answer you don’t have to, but is she still using?" you asked, your concern evident.

"Not that I know of," he shrugged. "I got full custody of Lukas after the divorce. She was only allowed to be with him after proving she was sober for 60 days. But I have this feeling that she will fail at any point and I will have to pick up the pieces or that i won't be there to protect Lukas"

The weight of uncertainty hung in the air as he spoke.

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his, offering a supportive squeeze "You've done everything you can to provide a stable environment for him. Sometimes, all we can do is focus on what's within our control. There is no way of knowing if she will… but we do know Lukas will still have you and your family if she does.” you tried to find the right words

He sighed, appreciating the reassurance. "I just want him to have a normal childhood, you know? To be surrounded by love..."

"Well I don’t know him, but from what I’ve seen you're doing a great job at that," you assured him.

"Thank you," he smiled. "You're an incredible woman, you know that?"

You smiled and stood up from your chair. Moving towards him, you settled onto his lap, taking one of your hands to his face. “So are you… an incredible man, I mean" You both chuckled, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.

As you gently caressed his cheek, you could feel the tension in his muscles, a manifestation of the concerns that still lingered.

"I know you're worried about Lukas and everything else," you said, your voice soft. " I'm Sorry there's nothing I can do to help "

He nodded, appreciating the sentiment. "You are already helping. Thank you” he smiled

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "Now, we need to get ready for your class. Are you coming? Could be good, keep your mind busy until she calls back" you suggested

"Yeah, of course," he replied, trying to shake off the lingering anxiety.

As you both got ready, Cillian continued to check his phone, the worry etched on his face. You could sense the weight he carried, and in those moments, your support meant more than words could convey.

Heading to the ceramic class, you intertwined your fingers with his, offering a steady presence by his side. You were the first to arrive, as usual. He helped you get the material for the class ready before the other students arrived.

The familiar routine of the class and interacting with students provided a welcome distraction for him. After last week's class he had become friends with one of your elderly students, she’s adorable and just goes on and on about her grandchildren… he loves to listen.

Sile arrived a few minutes later and it was good to see him smile and chuckle with his sister. What would she do if she knew what was going on with him? You wondered.

During the middle of the class, he stood up rushly, taking his phone to his ear as he walked outside.

It must be her calling, you assumed.

After a while, he returned and pulled you to the side, away from the other students.

“I have to go,” he said as you cleaned your hands on a red cloth.

“Is everything ok?” you asked concerned

“Yeah,” he said giving you a reassuring smile “I just have to go pick him up”

“Are you sure everything is ok?” you pushed

“No. I’m not sure. But I talked to him and he’s ok so that’s what matters. His grandmother was with him. She was the one that just called me”

“What about your ex?”

“I don't know. I’ll let you know soon, ok?” you smiled and nodded as he kissed your cheek and left.

“Is everything okay with him?” Sile asked as you walked past her

“Yeah,” you smiled and continued your class normally, not wanting to share anything because you didn’t know if he would appreciate it.

After the class ended you cleaned the studio for the following class. Sile asked you out for lunch today, but today was an awful day to plan anything. On Saturdays, you have one class after the other, and you barely have time to eat. So you suggested another day, and she agreed. You liked the fact that she asked you out, enjoying the fact she would like to get to know you more.

By the end of the day, you had no news of Cillian. You were lying on your couch, comfy pajamas and a pair of old socks kept you warm as you watched a random TV channel.

Staring at the screen of your cell phone again as you waited for him to answer. Worrying about him. Wanting to help him, to be with him.

“Hey! Just checking in. Text me when you can. Hope everything is well. Xoxo” You texted almost four hours ago.

It was getting late, and after waiting for a while you fell asleep on your couch.

You woke up with something vibrating under your head. You uncoordinatedly looked for your phone, as you were still half asleep.

“Hi” you answered not checking who was calling

“Hey, did I wake you?” cillians voice appeared from the other side

“Maybe” you played your head back on top of the cushions

“I’m sorry, I can call you tomorrow. It’s late” he said

“No…” you adjusted yourself and looked at the screen, it was 00:20 “i'm glad you called. I was worried something bad had happened”

“No nothing bad”

“Good” you smiled to yourself

“Lukas is here with me. Sleeping, he had some trouble sleeping today, he was agitated. Had to read him three stories before bed” he said, he sounded tired.

You chuckled “is that a lot?”

“Yeah, he's usually down after one”

“Oh, wow”

“Yeah he's a fast sleeper” he chuckled lightly

“So, do you wanna talk about what happened?” you asked

“Not really. Just… just wanted to hear your voice” he said, making you smile

“That’s sweet”

“Yeah, have to admit it was nice having you here last night. Your presence is missed”

You chuckled “well then you must invite me more often”

“Sure will”

“Well, do you wanna hear about my day?” you asked, assuming it would be just what he needed. To just run from his reality for a minute.

“I would love to”

You went on telling him about your day, about your classes and students. You told him the gossips your students tell you and ended up sending him some pictures of finished pieces you had done. He listened carefully and laughed at some of your student's stories.

After that you both said your goodbyes and wished each other a good night.

Taglist: @allie131313 @sherbitdibdab @sinceviennas @stilestotherescue @astheni-a @kitkatkaitin @amanda08319 @trixie23 @nancystrange @daisythekitty @cillianbabe @sinceviennas @si1ver06 @kitkatkait @isabbellagonzalezz18 @babypink224221 @1nterstellarcha0s @thenattitude

[lilpotatjj]

Can you do Bella Ramsey x French fem!reader pls :)?

Masterlist

A/N: Took me some research for the Language. I don't know much french soooo...pls don't throw the Baguettes on me.🙈 If there is something totally wrong pls text me.

Summery: Just a short funny and sweet story about Bella in Paris, a day after her Dior Fashion Show

Bella ramsey x frenchReader

Many people, paparazzis everywhere and the Eiffel Tower in the background.

Paris. The Dior Fashion Show is finally over and Bella totally exhausted.

Finally arrived at the hotel, she falls directly into bed and immediately falls asleep.

Paris is great. Many sights and all the culture promises a lot of fun.

The next day, freshly showered Bella wants to look around the city. After all, she's not in France every day. Dressed a bit more covered with cap, open hair and sunglasses, she sets off.

First, she goes to one of the popular bakeries for breakfast and then straight to the Eiffel Tower. When she arrives, she is completely amazed at how big the tower is in real life.

"Cooool" She takes a few photos and was just about to go on when you of all people suddenly collides with Bella

"Aïe! attention!" You look at Bella and pause for a moment.

"I'm so sorry, are you ok?" Her British accent gives you chills.

You know the voice.

As if you heard it only yesterday.

"Bella? Bella Ra-"she almost smacks her hand right over your mouth.

"Ssshh" She puts her index finger over her lips and finally takes her hand away. "Please don't say this so loud, otherwise paparazzis will come again" you nod, collect your thoughts and try to realize that in front of you is a British actress, who is also forbidden good looking and...whom you just ran into.

"Sorry. I was just taking pictures and didn't see you." You remain silent and still can't believe it.

"Aah...Parles-tu anglais?(english?)"..."Tu m'entends? (Can you hear me?)" She tries hard to speak french.

"Oh oui, I mean yes I can speak english"

"I thought you didn't understand me."

"It's ok. I just didn't expect to find you here. I'm surprised" you look at the Eiffel Tower. "Shall I show you around? Maybe I can help you if there are communication problems" you say helpfully.

Bella takes a breath while she thinks. "Why not, ok?" Suddenly two women come towards you.

"Ce n'est pas (isn't that) Bella Ramsey?" one of the girls says.

"Tu te trompes (you're mistaken)" You grab her arm and the two of you move on quickly.

You go to the Palace of Versailles and look around inside. Huge halls and beautiful paintings from the baroque period adorn the rooms.

Old, large furniture stands around as if you were in the past. Bella is obviously getting nervous. "Hey is everything ok?"

"There are some from yesterday's show...if they see me then everyone will know I'm here" she sounds almost panicked.

This is not how Bella had imagined the day. She wanted to spend a chill day in Paris.

Your eyes fall on one of the huge cupboards and without hesitation you grab her arm again.

"What the-" with a jerk you are both in the cupboard, almost body to body, you both look at the door and hope that no one will open it again.

"Pardon......"

"For wha-" she begins but falters as she looks you straight in the eye.

"M...merci?" Her cheeks turn red, but it's almost completely dark in the cupboard, the reason you can't see it.

You both hear your breathing, quickly, as if it's not oppressive enough, your heart puts in a speed run.

"mignon" just a whisper from your mouth.

"what?" Bella looks at you questioningly. "I said you're cute"

Bella can't find an answer and just stares at you.

"Sorry..." you look at the door and hear no more voices outside. As you try to open the door, you only feel a hand on yours.

"Wait...please" she speaks softly and your eyes fall on her. "What is it, we can get out. Nobo-" a kiss interrupts your sentence. Completely surprised, you close your eyes anyway and respond to her kiss.

"Pardon" now it is Bella who speaks while you look at her silently.

"Why did you do that?" You look at her guiltily.

"I just...you're cute too."

"Oh....well, we should probably go and see the rest before we fall asleep in here" you smirk sweetly at her which she returns and you both sneak out.

[astarionsdarlingjade]

Ruin

Chap. 1

word count- 8k+

Astarion/Named Fem! Dark Urge

The gif isn't really relevant but I didn't want to not put anything. I'll probably change it later when I get the photo mod figured out.

This takes place ten years before the events of the game.

The lights and sounds of the tavern bombarded her senses as she walked through the wooden creaking doors. The place was packed with patrons of all sorts; humans, dwarves, and even some elves, and all of them were drunk out of their minds. A few heads turned as she made her way towards the bar, but most of the patrons were too absorbed in their drinks or their own conversations to notice her. She was used to it, though. 

It was best for when she needed to find her targets. Taking a seat at the bar she kept the hood of her cloak low so as not to be seen. The Blushing Mermaid was certainly busier tonight, filled to the brim with sailors fresh from a long haul and dock workers ready to drink their pay.

She would need to pick at least one tonight to sate her father's prayers. Her eyes landed on a tiefling woman, who sat in the far corner of the tavern. Her golden irises were framed by black, and her navy skin glinted under the candlelight. Away from the bustling of the sailors, she sat nursing one drink that seemed to have been sat there for hours. 

Their eyes met, and she quickly sent her a small coquettish smile before setting her own drink down. She moved to leave her stool, but before she could, a smooth and velvety voice reached her ears.

"Hello, beautiful."

Forcing herself to stop her movements, she turned to look at who exactly had the gall to approach a Bhaalspawn. Even if it wasn't obvious. Looking over her shoulder revealed a pale elf, his eyes a deep shade of red, framed by silver locks. Not too unusual, but there was something rather unnerving about how they seemed to glow so vibrantly.

She sighed inwardly, hoping that he would quickly leave her be, so that she might focus on the tiefling woman. He must have taken her sighing for a sign because he smiled and took the stool beside her.

"I've not seen you here before. What brings you to a place like this?"

His smile was a bit too practiced, she noticed. He also made sure that his lips were sealed tight. Strange.

What a pretty corpse he'd make-

She bit back a snarky response and forced a polite smile instead, "Just passing through."

Please leave, Lord Bhaal must have a sufficient sacrifice before midnight, and I refuse to displease him. She prayed silently.

But he didn't, instead, he regaled her with many a line about the beauty of her hair, and her eyes. All the while she had to bite back her temper and pray to her father for him to simply leave her be.

After what seemed like hours, she finally spoke again. "Do you wish to buy me a drink, or simply sit beside me?"

Her question seemed to startle him, but his composure returned, and he grinned at her.

"I can, but only if you promise me one thing."

Her patience was running thin. The clock was so close to ticking midnight.

Her eyes fell back to the far end of the room, the tiefling woman was gone, her drink still sat on the table, nearly full as it had been before.

Gods damnit-

"Give me the pleasure of your company for the night. And I'll buy you any drink you desire."

She nearly spat in shock. So that was what he getting at? He wanted to... take her to bed? 

His tone was laced with seduction as he continued, "And when morning comes, you can have your way with me. But first, let me have mine with you."

She could practically hear her father's screams of rage as the clock struck 11.

Lord Bhaal demanded blood. Demanded a sacrifice-

"Very well," she acquiesced, swallowing back thoughts of how he would look covered in blood. His own, of course.

She would have to make this quick, she was already late.

"Come," She said, taking his hand as she led him through the creaking doors. "I am at your disposal."

"For now," she added, her voice low.

The streets of Baldur's Gate were deadly silent for once, the only noise came from the taverns and the docks, and even then the sounds were distant, muffled by the buildings. She had led the elf through the alleys, weaving and darting through them, until they found a quiet spot near the harbor, where a single ship was docked.

"What's this?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

She turned and looked at him, and gave him a seductive smirk. "We're alone, and the streets are quiet."

It didn't take him long to understand her meaning. He wasted no time, and before she could get another word out, his mouth was upon hers.  The kiss was heated and messy, and he grabbed her waist and pushed her against the wall of a nearby building.

She pulled away and smiled. "Impatient, are we?"

"Only because I know what I want." He said, returning her smile.

"And what do you want, hmm?" she asked, still a bit breathless from the kiss.

He smirked and moved his hands down to her hips. "You. Now."

She laughed. "So forward! You haven't even given me your name," she said, with a tone of faux offense.

"I could say the same to you, darling," he retorted.

"Rhea," She said, whispering it softly.

He repeated it, rolling the name on his tongue.

"Such a pretty name, for such a pretty thing," He purred, pulling her closer.

She pulled back, her lips ghosting over his ear. His breath hitched. Her tongue darted out and traced the shell of his ear, before she nibbled on his earlobe. He let out a small, choked moan, before he felt her hand press against his bulge.

"And yours," she asked quietly, her hand moving slowly over his bulge. 

Even without the clock, she could tell it was just past midnight. Surely, skipping one night of sacrifice wouldn't be too harmful. If anything, Orin would more than make up for her share.

"Astarion, darling," He breathed, his lips ghosting against hers.

"A lovely name," she replied, rolling it on her tongue as she closed the distance. This kiss was much softer, and gentler than the first. It was tender and warm.

It felt nice. She let herself get lost in the moment. In his touch. His hands were cool, and it was almost easy, to forget her lost sacrifice. To forget who she was. Almost.

She pulled away, her breathing heavy, and her heart racing. Astarion looked at her, his eyes wide, and his lips slightly parted. It was hard to tell under the dim streetlights, but there seemed to be no color to his pallid face. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off with another kiss. It was hungry, and it burned through her like wildfire. Intoxicating.

"Oh, darling. I am going to enjoy making you scream," he said breathlessly. 

"Is that a promise?" She asked coyly, tasting the salt from the sea on her tongue as she spoke.

"Indeed it is, " he murmured. 

She laughed dryly. "We'll see."

He pushed her forward, her back hitting the wall. He was on her in a second, his mouth attacking hers, and his hands roaming her body. She groaned, her hands tangling themselves in his hair. He chuckled and grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. He began to trail kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking on the skin as he went. She gasped, arching her back, trying to get closer to him. His other hand snaked up her thigh and under her dress, slowly dragging his nails across her skin. She moaned, rutting her hips into him.

"Gods, you're so eager." He pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall, and his knee found its way between her legs, forcing a whine from her lips as she ground her hips against his knee. Surprisingly desperate for friction. 

"Astarion..."

"That's it, darling. Moan my name. Let the whole city hear you."

He was surprisingly careful not to bite into her flesh, his teeth grazing just enough for heat to pool in her stomach. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut. She could feel her arousal building, her body aching for more. For him.

He grinned, and pulled away, his hand leaving her wrist. She groaned at the loss of contact, and he silenced her with a kiss. His hands unclipped her cloak and let it slide to the ground before pushing her dress up and past her hips. Astarion broke the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes on fire. Cool air hit her heated core, and she shivered. 

"My, my, darling," He cooed. "How wet you are for me. Are you always this ready, or am I just special?"

"You talk too much," she growled, pulling him down into another kiss.

Her hand slid between them, and she rubbed her palm against him, drawing a low moan from his plush lips.

He pushed her hand away and pulled her dress up. She frowned and her brow furrowed, as he stepped back.  He knelt, and she swallowed thickly, anticipation coiling in her stomach. She leaned back against the wall, her hands gripping the rough bricks for support. He began trailing kisses up her thighs, and her breath hitched. His hand caressed her thighs, and he ran his tongue along her inner thigh. She let out a gasp, and she could feel him smirking against her skin.

"So sensitive." He ran his tongue ran closer to her heat, and she shivered.

" Astarion ... "

"Tell me what you want, darling."

"Touch me, please," She gasped, her nails digging into the bricks.

He paused his movements, seemingly lost in thought before he spoke again.

"Mm. Beg for me," he said, his eyes not meeting her gaze. Distant-

She gritted her teeth. "No."

He paused and looked up at her, his crimson eyes a blaze. "Beg, or I'll leave you like this."

She threw him a glare. Her, beg? For some-

His cool breath fanned over her cunt, making her stomach flutter, and her face hot. 

"Fine," she gritted through her teeth.

"Please."

"Please what, darling?" he cooed. 

"Please, I want you to fuck me. Right now."

He smirked. "Good girl."

He dropped to his knees and buried his face between her thighs. She felt his lips on her, and she threw her head back, moaning loudly. His tongue was warm, as he licked a line from her opening to her clit, circling her entrance.

"Oh, yes. Fuck, yes," she moaned, her fingers tangling themselves in his silver hair.

He moaned, his tongue lapping at her folds. Her hips bucked as her toes curled in her boots. Laughing, he began to tease her, his tongue flicking at her clit, his fingers slid into her hot cunt.

"Please, please, please," She pleaded, her voice desperate. 

A far cry from her usual disposition. Not even he could get this much of a response from her. 

He moaned, the sound vibrating through her, his fingers curled inside her, and his tongue teased her clit.

She was a mess, her body trembling, her eyes screwed shut, her breaths coming in gasps and short bursts. He smirked, and began to thrust his fingers in and out of her faster, his tongue swirling around her clit.

"More. Please, fuck. Please, please," she begged, her voice breaking.

He obliged, adding a third finger, and pumping them in and out of her. She could feel herself nearing the edge, her body shuddering, her thighs quivering. She was barely able to keep upright, the brick of the wall rough against her hands.

"Hells," She moaned, her hands fisting his hair. He hummed as he sucked on her clit, his fingers steadily working her to her climax.

"Oh, fuck, fuck!" She screamed, her body tensing as her orgasm washed over her, her vision white.

He licked her through her orgasm, his fingers still thrusting inside her all the while. She gasped, her body shuddering, her eyes clenched shut. He pulled away, and licked his lips, his eyes shining with amusement and his chin glistened with her juices.

"Now, love. Tell me, how was that?"

She stared at him, her eyes wide. It certainly didn't compare to her usual feelings, but-

He stood and leaned in, kissing her. Probably thinking her speechless.

"That good, hm? Well, it's a good thing we have the entire night to ourselves." Before she could answer, his mouth was on hers, his tongue slipping past her lips, and his hand gripping her thigh.

She could taste herself on his lips, making her whimper, her hands fisted the front of his shirt. Her hands reached for his belt, quickly undoing it before the sound of drunken shouts and slurred speech interrupted her.

Astarion pulled away, looking over towards the docks. A group of sailors were walking away from the taverns, their voices loud and their steps clumsy.

"Shit," She cursed. It would probably be best to return-

"Perhaps we should finish this  somewhere else." Astarion's voice pulled her back to reality. "Somewhere, with a bit more privacy?"

She smirked and nodded. "That would be wise." She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. "Though I rather think you're enjoying this."

He smiled and shrugged. "Can you blame me?"

She shook her head. "I suppose not."

He looked at her, his smile faltering. "Shall we?" he said as he offered an arm. 

She paused and bit her lip before linking her arm in his. "We shall."

The door to her temporary home was quickly unlocked, and she ushered him inside.

He looked around, his eyes taking in the small room. "How quaint," He remarked, his eyes scanning the walls before they landed on the bed, the sheets and pillows still messy from when she woke.

"I prefer not to stand out," she said her voice brusque as she latched the door behind him.

He chuckled and turned back to her. "Fair."

His hand went to her waist, pulling her closer. Astarion leaned in and kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth. She moaned into the kiss, her hands tangling themselves in his hair, pulling him even closer. He hummed, his other hand moving to her hip. She gasped as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if by instinct. He carried her to the bed and laid her down, his mouth never leaving hers.

She broke the kiss, her hands tugging at his shirt. "Off," She demanded.

She ran her hands over his chest, her eyes trailing over his body. "Very," She murmured.

He leaned in, his mouth attacking her neck. She gasped, her back arching into him, and her hands gripping his shoulders. He chuckled and continued his assault on her neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. Her hips bucked, her eyes rolling back into her skull. His hands slid down her sides, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer. "Please," She breathed.

He smirked and ground his hips against hers. "Please what, my dear?"

She moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. "I need you," She pleaded.

He chuckled and moved his mouth lower, his teeth grazing her collarbone. "Where?"

"Everywhere," She breathed.

She whimpered, her hips bucking, her back arching. "Astarion. Please. Fuck. Touch me."

He hummed and pulled away, his hand sliding up her dress. His fingers found her clit and began to rub it.

He smirked at her, watching her fall apart under his touch. "Like this, darling?"

"Gods yes," she hissed, her eyes squeezed shut. "Like that."

He moaned, his fingers circling her clit, his tongue running along her throat. She shuddered, her hips bucking up.

"Please. Please. Please," She pleaded, her voice already hoarse.

"So needy," He slid a finger inside her, his thumb continuing to circle her clit.

She gasped, her legs spreading wider, her body trembling as the cool air hit her.

He continued, his finger sliding in and out of her cunt, his thumb teasing and circling her clit. She writhed beneath him, her body aching for more.

He added a second finger, his thumb pressing against her clit. "Do you want me to fuck you?" he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

She whimpered, her eyes screwing shut. "Yes."

He grinned and quickened his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of her. Her hips rocked, that familiar heat pooling in her stomach again. She moaned, her back arching, while her thighs quivered. He curled his fingers, his thumb brushing against her clit. Her hips bucked once more, her back arching into his hand before all pressure vanished.

Her eyes opened, and she looked up at him, her pupils blown wide, her face flushed. "Why did you stop?" she wined, her voice an octave higher than its usual tone.

He laughed, and moved his hand, his fingers running up her thigh. "I want to taste you."

He leaned in, trailing kisses along her collarbone. She gasped, her body tensing, her eyes screwing shut as the kisses trailed down her neck, his hand slowly making its way down her stomach.

"You want me, don't you, darling? Want to feel me inside you, filling you, stretching you?" He nipped at her collarbone again, his fingers rubbing circles on her hip.

It was maddening, the feel of his fingers along her burning skin, his open-mouthed kisses were bruising, surely to leave a purple mark in the morning. 

"Please," She breathed, her eyes opening.

The word came so easily now, something she had never had to even utter before. A word that was many others last to her. 

"You beg so beautifully. It would be rude not to grant your request." He pushed her dress up and over her head, and tossed it to the side as his eyes roamed her exposed body.

She shivered as the cool air hit her skin. He smirked and leaned in, his lips ghosting over her nipple before he instead opted to kiss her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth, his fingers dancing over her hip. She moaned loudly, not bothering to cover her mouth this time, her hands were too busy fisting the sheets. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to her neck, trailing slowly down to her breasts.

"Please, Astarion," She breathed his name again, like a prayer. 

He laughed, his hand sliding down her stomach, his fingers teasing her clit. She writhed against his hand, her body needed more.

"I could get used to hearing that," He purred, his fingers pushing into her.

And she could listen to his voice all-day-

"Oh, fuck."

He moaned, kissing her shoulder, his hand still moving, his fingers pumping in and out of her faster and faster. She shuddered, and her hands clenched the sheets tighter. She writhed beneath him, her eyes screwed shut, her breath ragged.

"Fuck, Astarion."

He laughed and continued to pump his fingers into her, while his mouth found her breast, his tongue circling her nipple, his teeth scraped against it. 

"Gods." she moaned, her hands now around his neck, pulling him closer, her fingers tangling in his hair.

A familiar coil started to tighten as his fingers fucked her faster.

"I could do this all day. Watching you fall apart beneath me. Hearing you moan, feeling you writhe, seeing your body shake," he murmured into her skin as his lips moved from her breast and trailed up her chest, neck, and jaw before his mouth finally met hers, his tongue pushing between her lips.

Her nails dug into his shoulders as she broke it, her voice slurring, "Please. I need you. 'Need you to fill me. Make me yours."

He groaned before pulling away from her, his fingers sliding out of her. He forced them into her mouth, making her taste herself.  She sucked on them, licking them clean as he watched her, his eyes hooded, his lips parted.

He hummed and pulled his fingers from her mouth, his hand going to his breeches. Astarion undid his pants, freeing his cock. The sight of his cock made her bite her lip, her stomach twisted, and a shiver of excitement ran through her.

"Mmm, I do enjoy the way you look at me, darling." He positioned himself at her entrance, his fingers digging into her thighs as he pulled her closer.

"You're so beautiful, Astarion. So perfect," She cooed, as her hands trailed down his chest. She pushed him back onto the bed and she straddled his hips, her nails dragging across his skin, leaving faint pink marks in their wake. Surprise crossed his face, as if he hadn't expected it.

But he recovered quickly. "Oh, am I?" His smirk returned, though there was something else there too—something she couldn't quite grasp.

His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared. His voice was husky and his words were breathy, "Do tell me, what about me is so perfect?"

She hummed, as she trailed a finger up his neck and jaw. She cupped his cheek and leaned in close, their lips almost touching, but not quite. Her other hand trailed down his body to wrap around his cock, pumping him slowly. He was already hard for her. "So, so many things." Her tongue darted out and licked his bottom lip before she took it between her teeth and bit down.

"I'm sure, darling, but please do be a dear and enlighten me," He rasped.

She grinned wickedly. "I think it would be better to show you."  He leaned his head back, allowing her access to him. 

She kissed and sucked at the skin, leaving red marks that would certainly be gone by morning. Her lips trailed down to his collarbone, her teeth scraping his skin. She felt him shudder, his body trembling as his grip tightened. She pulled away, a satisfied smirk playing across her lips.

"You're trembling," She said, her voice teasing.

He swallowed, his eyes meeting hers. "You've been such a tease," His voice was hoarse.

"Am I?"

She leaned in, her lips ghosting over his neck, her teeth grazing his earlobe. "Well, maybe I should tease you some more."

He groaned, his hips thrusting up, as his cock brushed her stomach.

She pulled away, her hands gripped his shoulders, and her legs pinned him down.

"Or," she whispered, her voice dropping an octave, "Maybe I should ride your cock." She moved her hips, her heat grinding against his length. He let out a gasp, his hands grabbing her ass, pulling her closer.

He moaned her name, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his breath hot on her skin.

She smiled, her lips ghosting his jaw, her hands fisting his silver locks, pulling him closer before she pulled away again, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into the skin. She lifted herself off of him, forcing a whine from his plush lips, his cock brushed against her folds before she paused and sat back, a wicked grin playing across her lips.

"Hm ," she hummed, her eyes half-lidded as she watched his chest heave.

"Say 'please," she said.

"What?" His voice cracked, his eyes widening.

"You heard me." She ran her nails down his chest, a sharp cry escaping his throat. "Beg me."

He swallowed, his mouth going dry. His cock twitched, and precum smeared against her inner thigh. He sat up quickly, his fingers tangling in her hair, his lips crashing into hers. He kissed her hungrily, his tongue swiping across her lips. She gasped and allowed him entry, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Please," He muttered, his voice breaking while his hands gripped the sheets. 

She forced a smile when he averted his gaze, her hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes. He threw his head back, his body arching off the bed.

"Fuck," He breathed, his eyes fluttering closed, his jaw slack.

She smiled and wrapped her hand around his cock, her thumb stroking the head.

She shifted, her knees bracketing his hips, before her lips trailed down his chest, her tongue tracing patterns along his skin as she moved down. He groaned, his body trembling, his eyes screwed shut. "Look at me," She ordered, her voice dropping an octave.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering open, and his gaze met hers.

"You're so beautiful." She pressed her lips to his chest, and her tongue flicked against his nipple, eliciting a moan from him. She pulled away, and licked her lips, her hands stroking his length, her thumb tracing the vein, her hand gripping the base, her nails digging into the sensitive skin, causing him to shudder and moan.

She smirked and moved her mouth down his stomach, her lips kissing and sucking his skin. He bucked his hips, his cock brushing her cheek.

He breathed her name, his voice ragged.

She looked up at him, and smiled, her tongue flicking over his tip. "So desperate," she murmured as she gripped the base of his cock, her hand sliding down his length. His face contorted, unreadable as he struggled to form words.

Her tongue swirled around his head before her lips closed around him. He groaned, his hands tangling in her hair, pushing her head down further.

His breath hitched as she sucked his cock, and her hand cupped his balls. He moaned again, his grip on her hair tightening as his hips thrust up against her face. She hummed, her mouth taking more of him, her nails digging into his thighs. He let out a whimper, his eyes screwing shut, his hips rocking upward.

She pulled away, her tongue dragging along his length. "Don't close your eyes."

He nodded slowly, his eyes fluttering open, his gaze meeting hers. She moved her mouth further down his cock, her teeth grazing his skin. He shuddered, his body trembling. His hands wove into her hair tighter, his cock sliding deeper until he hit the back of her throat. His hips thrust up to meet her mouth. He sped up, the only sounds in the room were the sound of her sucking his cock and his moans.

She gagged, her nails digging crescents into his skin as his hips stilled and his cock twitched, his hot cum filling her mouth.

She moaned as she swallowed. Astarion groaned, his eyes fluttering shut, his body shuddering as he pulled away, a smile on her lips as she swallowed thickly. She moved her mouth further down his length, her tongue dragging along his skin, licking up all the remnants of his release, her tongue flicked over his slit, his hips jerking up one last time.

He pulled her head away from his cock, his fingers still in her hair, his cock still hard.

She let out a soft laugh and he released her hair. Her mouth trailed up his stomach, her teeth grazing his nipple.

"Gods," He breathed.

She hummed in agreement, her teeth biting down as her fingers pinched his other nipple, his back arched off the mattress, and a soft moan escaped his lips.

His hands were tugging at her hair again, and he pulled her head back. 

"Astarion," She breathed.

"I want you," She whispered, her head falling onto his chest.

"Mmm," He purred, his hands gripping her hips, his cock sliding against her slick folds.

She whimpered, her hips pressing down, trying to get him inside.

His hands pulled her down, his cock pushing into her. She let out a moan, her body shuddering. His hips thrust up, his hands guiding her. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps as her hips met his. She was so close, she could feel herself about to fall apart again, her walls tightening around his cock. He groaned, his hands sliding up her sides, his fingertips brushing her nipples. 

She didn't think she could last much longer, her vision was beginning to blur, and there were dark splotches in the corners. She was on her back in an instant, his mouth kissing down her throat, his teeth grazing her skin, his hands running up and down her sides. She shivered, her body arching into his touch, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her ankles hooked together, and her heels dug into his ass, pulling him closer.

Astarion growled and thrust his cock into her roughly, his hips snapping against hers. She gasped, her vision going white. He gripped her hips, his nails digging into her skin. She moaned, her head falling back, as her hands gripped the sheets.

"Faster," she whined.

He smirked and pulled out fully before thrusting back in. He set a punishing pace, fucking her hard and fast, his hips slamming against hers.

"Fuck, Astarion." She cried out, her eyes rolling back, her body quivering.

In response, he moaned her name and fucked her harder.

"Good girl," he said, his voice still hoarse.

She whimpered, her hands further tangling themselves in the sheets, as her eyes on him. 

"You're so good, darling. Such a good girl," he praised, his hand reaching between them and started to rub her clit.

His praise, his words, his touch- She could feel herself teetering on the edge yet again, her mind clouding over.

"So close- Come for me."

She swore she could see stars as she came, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Good girl," he said one last time before she felt his cock pulse, his warm release spilling into her.

"Fuck."

"That's it, darling. Take it all."

She whimpered, her hands grasping his shoulders, pulling him closer so that their chests were touching. 

He grunted, his eyes screwed shut, his lips pressed to her temple. She whined as her arms moved to wrap around his neck. He chuckled, his hand moving to her neck, squeezing lightly.

"Oh, fuck," She breathed.

"There we go," he cooed. "I'm going to let you catch your breath, then I'm going to fuck you again."

Morning light filtered in through the curtains, forcing her eyes to open. She stretched her legs out, the silk sheets brushing her skin as she did so. Her brow furrowed, her head tilting. Where the fuck am I? The night came back to her in waves: the tavern, the missed sacrifice, and finally the man with the pretty eyes and charming smile.

"Fuck." She hissed, her face growing hot.

Looking down she saw her dress was gone, she was completely bare save for the blanket covering her. Her cunt was sore, and the stickiness between her legs was a dead giveaway of what she had done the previous night. She looked around the room, noting the clothes scattered about.

Her dress and corset lay across the back of a chair, his shirt on the floor by the foot of the bed, his pants near the door. Both of their pairs of shoes tossed haphazardly across the wooden floor.

The memories came flooding back to her. How his hands roamed her body, how he'd praised her, how she'd screamed his name when she came again and again.

Astarion.

Something shifted behind her. She froze, not daring to look back. She could feel a chest pressed to her back, his breath cool on her neck. His arm was draped across her side, his hand resting on her stomach.

She tried to shift out from under his grip, but he merely tightened his arm and pulled her closer. His breathing was even, a sure sign he was asleep. Well- not asleep, but sill. She let out a shaky breath and settled back into the mattress, his arm still holding her close.

A soft, barely there smile found its way to her lips as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Fuck."

She turned to face him, his hair was a mess, and a silver curl fell just above his brow. She quickly pushed it away from his face, careful not to wake him. Her eyes ran over his visage, his lips were slightly parted revealing the tips of his canines. 

They were certainly shaper than she had expected, it was a miracle they hadn't pierced her flesh.

She shifted closer to him and wrapped an arm around him, her fingers lightly tracing his bare back.

Her face twisted as she felt ridges under her fingertips. Furrowing her brows, she moved her hand back to the spot and pressed her fingers down. She felt him stiffen, his breath hitching. She withdrew her hand as if burnt.

She didn't need to look to know what they were. Somehow, she hadn't registered the scars crisscrossing his back. She supposed she had been too busy the night before. She placed her lips against his shoulder, and wondered where exactly they had come from. 

He was still resting when she dressed and picked up a quill.

"You seem to be in a good mood, My Lady."

The Butler's voice was like nails on glass as she came to a stop. He was the second person to mention it. The first was some follower in the temple, who quickly scurried away after she sent them a glare. She hadn't realized that it was that obvious.

"Oh?" She looked at him and forced a smile, trying to hide her mounting irritation.

"Yes. I haven't seen you look so... cheerful in so very long, I suppose there was a significant sacrifice made in the name of Lord Bhaal?" he said as they exited the temple.

Her nose crinkled in disgust at the smell of the sewers. It was something she thought you'd gotten used to, but it always managed to get worse. "You could say that," she answered, not giving him any other information.

"Very good, My Lady. Your Lord Father will be most pleased."

"I'm sure he will."

No one needed to know that she had neglected her duties in favor of having her brains fucked out by a strange man. Her Lord Father certainly didn't need to know that. The thought of her father brought a frown to her face. He had already been displeased with her for some time now.

"I have a meeting with Gortash, I won't return to the temple for some time," she said, her voice neutral as she pulled her hood down and over her eyes. 

Sceleritas gave a quick bow before disappearing into a cloud of red mist.

Gortash's dark circles were worse, a stressed smile on his chapped lips. "My friend," he cut himself off his eyes narrowing as he quickly approached, his eyes darting around.

"You seem to be in a good mood." His tone was light, but his eyes were cautious.

"I had an...interesting night." She said cooly. 

She tried not to think about her night with Astarion, tried not to remember the feel of his hands and mouth. How he had her pressed against the wall. She shifted on her feet.

Gortash raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"I can tell. You seem-" He paused, closing his next words carefully, "happier than when we last spoke." He paused and sniffled, a frown settling on his features as his eyes zoned in on something.

"You've been with someone." His nostrils flared, his eyes searching her face.

She gave him a smirk, a brow raising. " How did you know?"

She felt his eyes move over her body, her face flushed - her neck. There was no doubt in her mind that he could see the dark purple bruises blooming on her skin. Damn. She'd thought that the neckline of her dress would cover the marks left behind. 

"I'm just glad that it was... pleasant for you," he replied, his tone lighter.

Her brows furrowed, his eyes meeting hers. "You're worried," she tilted her head and took a step closer, their noses almost touching, "Why?" 

He shook his head, and turned away. If she had a better look she might have said his expression was one of- jealousy?

Was he jealous? Her smirk widened as she crossed her arms behind her back and followed him through the room. Sunlight highlighted the piles and stacks of books that were littered throughout. 

Books on... "Ilithids?" She questioned, picking up a dusty time, the title nearly faded against the purple background.

He nodded before turning to face her again, "I've been digging for more research on our project," he gestured for her to sit.

She opted to remain standing. The book dropped to the floor with a dull thud, sending up a cloud of dust. Ilthids.

"I plan to involve the research done when it comes to taking Baldur's Gate of course," his eyes were frantic now, rimmed in red from a lack of sleep.

Her eyes stayed on his lips as they moved but no sound reached her ears. She hadn't visited Gortash in months. He was now Bane's Chosen, so she had heard.

The circles under his eyes were worsening, and it seemed he had lost weight. Rhea wasn't one to worry when it came to others' problems, but- she did have a rather close relationship with the man. One he clearly held dearly if the look in his eyes earlier said anything at all. 

Her eyes flitted across the room in confusion. She had yet to see the Tiefling girl he had recently taken into service. She always managed to derail their conversations, into hours long chats about everything and nothing all at once.

Gortash's hand cupped her face, and when their eyes met she noticed how concerned he seemed.

"Is it your Father, again?"

She placed her hand on top of his own before closing her eyes and humming in content. 

Lord Bhaal was certainly displeased with her, after last night. No sacrifice, and she couldn't keep that damned pale elf off of her mind.  And not in her usual, 'I wonder what his insides would look like twisted around him,' or 'I wonder what his blood would taste of.'

What was his name again? It had slipped her mind-

Gortash's lips were surprisingly soft against her own. His hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer. She could feel the heat of his body radiating from under his robes, and a shiver ran down her spine as her eyes fluttered closed. She was the one who pulled away. Her eyes met his own.

"Where's the Tiefling?" She asked, trying to ignore how tightly he gripped her.

A blush spread across his face, a frown settling on his lips. "I had to- dismiss her."

"I thought you liked her?" She cocked her head.

"I did."

"Did?"

"Not anymore," he shook his head, "she had her uses but, not enough to keep her around."

Her brows furrowed, the gears in her brain moving slowly as she took his answer in. "You had a lot of uses for her. What changed?"

He let out a deep sigh and sat down.

"She got boring."

"Boring," she echoed, not quite understanding.

"Yes." He answered.

"I think she was quite the opposite," she said stalely.  She didn't bother to pry further.

"I don't understand," he said,  as he looked up at her, his hands wringing in his lap. 

"Don't understand what?"

She scoffed, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze. A subject change, how typical. At least as of late. She couldn't recall him being this wishy-washy before.

"Who were you with?" He asked, his eyes narrowed.

She shook her head and laughed, the question taking her by surprise. He had never really shown much interest in who she was with. Although, lately he had been acting a bit more... desperate.

"You don't get a say in my affairs, Gortash."

His eyes softened as he leaned forward. "You do  know I care about you, right?"

She shrugged and moved closer, her knees hitting the armrest of his chair. "You do have a strange way of showing it." She moved so she was straddling him, her hands gripping the back of his chair. His own went to her waist.

"How else am I supposed to show it?"

"By letting me go."

His eyes flashed. "You know I can't do that. I don't want to do that."

She let out a chuckle. "Of course not. How foolish of me." Her fingers tangled in his hair as she leaned closer. "Why would you?"

His breath tickled her ear, his grip on her hips tightening. "You're mine."

Her nose twitched, and her eyes narrowed. "Is that so?"

"You know it is," he breathed, his lips pressing against her neck.

"If I'm yours, then why do you keep asking me who I've been with?" She whispered, tilting her head to the side.

"You can fuck whoever you want, as long as you come back to me."

"How possessive of you," she breathed, her lips pressing against his jaw, his chin, his nose.

"I've missed you, Rhea." His lips captured her own.

"I know," she hummed, her nails digging into his scalp, "and I you."

She lied effortlessly. There had been a time when her feelings were mutual. But that time had long passed. His hands slid over her skin, his movements slow.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" His breath was hot on her skin.

"Hmm," she hummed in agreement.

"How long has it been?" he asked in between kisses.

"Too long," she breathed, her head falling back as his lips moved lower.

The door slammed open.

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

"Then don't." Gortash's head turned, his eyes meeting the interrupter.

"I've been looking everywhere for you." He gestured to Rhea and took a step past the threshold. 

He was an older gentleman, with graying hair and a permanent frown on his face. Gold horn-rimmed glasses were hanging precariously from his nose.

"What's wrong now?" her voice clipped, annoyed. 

"We have a slight... problem."

"Well spit it out, then."

"You know," the man trailed off, a sinister smile on his face.

She let out a groan and stood, her hand reaching for the dagger strapped to her side. She almost wretched. Orin. The man's face contorted and his body cracked to reveal the Changeling. Her putrid stench filled the room, her long blonde braid matted with blood and... what looked like viscera.

"Dear sister, I've missed you." The words were sickly sweet and sent a shiver down her spine.

"I can't say the same, Orin." Rhea's voice was monotone as her eyes met the Changeling's glossy ones.

Orin ignored the comment, her eyes narrowing as she picked her nails with her blade. "Father's been upset, all in a tizzy if you will," her tone was bored, her eyes meeting Rhea's.

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed," she deadpanned.

Orin's eyes narrowed and she stood, her body towering over Rhea's. "Watch the tone." She spat the words, her teeth gritting.

"Or what, Orin? You'll tell daddy on me? You'll tattle that I didn't give the proper sacrifice? That I didn't come home on time?" She took a step closer, a wicked grin spreading across her lips.

"Father isn't happy." Orin's lip curled.

"Let him come, I'm sure he'll love the welcome party."

"You think you're clever, don't you, dear sister." Orin's hand was cold against her neck.

"I'm not the one that needs to prove myself," Rhea whispered, her hand sliding between their bodies. Her dagger pressed into Orin's stomach. "If you threaten me again, I'll make sure there's no coming back for you."

Orin scoffed, "I, will be Lord Bhaal's Chosen. Only I am his favorite, the only one truly he cares for."

"Keep telling yourself that, dear sister," Rhea's tone was light, but her grip on her blade held fast. She pushed the blade harder against her stomach.

"Just a little more," Orin whispered, her voice taunting.

Orin's hand wrapped around her wrist.

Gortash cleared his throat, and both women turned to face him. He was clearly uncomfortable with the... situation. "I'm sorry, to interrupt."

His eyes stayed on Orin's blade, the tip was pressed against Rhea's throat, and small droplets of blood were dripping from her skin.

"But, we were in the middle of something." His tone was curt.

"And?" Orin raised a brow.

"We'd like you to leave." His lips formed a tight, thin line.

Orin's jaw was tense as her hand dropped to her side limply. "Fine."

She looked down at her blade and smiled. "You made me bleed," she wiped the blood from her waist.

"Goodbye, sister. I'll see you again soon." Her tone was a warning.

"I'm sure." Her tone was dismissive.

"Until then," Orin smiled as she left.

Rhea let out a deep sigh, her shoulders sagging.

"I forgot how exhausting she was."

Gortash was silent, his hand running down her back.

"Is it always like that?"

"Oh, yes." Her tone was sarcastic, her eyes fluttering closed as she sheathed her blade.

"I have no doubt Lord Bhaal will choose you as his Chosen," he assured her.

"I'm not too sure of that myself, these days." She opened her eyes, and her head turned away.

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Nothing of importance," she shrugged.

He nodded and sat down.

"Would you like to continue where we left off?" His tone was hopeful, his hand motioning towards the space next to him.

She sighed and moved closer. "It's going to cost you."

His hand was warm against her waist, her head dropping to his shoulder.

"Anything." He breathed the word, his tone desperate.

She smiled a genuine one this time and leaned closer. "Tell me how the research is going."

He sighed and shook his head. "Fine, have it your way."

The sun was low in the sky, the clouds painted a dark pink. The streets were busy, and she could already hear the sounds of music playing from the taverns. Her feet dragged along the cobblestones, her eyes scanning the crowd. She wondered if he was still there if he was still in her bed. 

He wasn't. His boots were gone, the clothes that were thrown over her desk were gone, and his scent lingered in the air. She wasn't surprised, but she was disappointed. She moved towards her desk and sat down. An envelope was on her desk. It was a plain white, her name scrawled on the front. It was in his handwriting.

"Astarion" she whispered, his name was a sigh that slipped from her lips as she opened the note. The note was short but sweet. She placed the note back on her desk and smiled.

Astarion.

What a lovely name.

Her eyes snapped open. No- 

She admonished herself. She had been too distracted as of late. She rubbed her temples, a headache forming. It had only been a day and yet she could still feel her father's anger, his frustration. Bloodlust- Her mind had drifted again and she hadn't sensed the presence. She was getting soft, and careless.

It was frightening. She had only been in Baldur's Gate for less than a year. Before that, it had been at Moonrise, and before that- 

Her head throbbed, and her temples felt like they were going to burst.

She woke covered in blood, the sky dark. The only light came from the stars and the moon, their silvery glow lighting up the sky. The air smelled of death and the stench of it was so strong it was nauseating. Her entire body ached, and she had to force herself to stand.

A body lay to her left, unrecognizable, entrails pooling on top of a familiar ritual circle.  The air was heavy with the smell of iron. She tried to remember what had happened, but it was a blur. Her legs felt weak and shaky, and she could hardly stand, let alone walk.

She needed to find water, to wash the blood away. Her hands were caked in it, her fingernails stained red. The stench was starting to make her feel ill, and she felt dizzy. She stumbled towards the streetlights, the lights illuminated the cobblestone streets.

The city was quiet, aside from the distant sounds of taverns. As she walked she quickened her pace. Her steps echoed off the walls and the stone streets.

She was alone, and the emptiness of the streets was suffocating. She kept walking, the cobblestones beneath her feet turned to wood, and she slammed her front door behind her, the sound echoing throughout the empty house.

She took a deep breath.

She needed to clean up and rest.

And then-

The water was freezing, and her body ached, the cold a sharp pain against her skin. She shivered, the chill seeping into her bones, her hair wet and tangled. She sat there for a while, staring at her hands. They were covered in dirt and grime, and she could still see the dried blood under her nails.

She washed her hands until her skin was raw, and even then, she couldn't get rid of the feeling. It wasn't just the blood. There was something else. Something was wrong. She stood in the tub and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were different, the pupils blown, the color a shade darker than her normal lavender.

She could still feel her heart beating, but she knew it wasn't the same. Her stomach lurched and she rushed to the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. Her throat burned, and the taste of bile was acidic on her tongue. She didn't know how long she stayed there, her knees pulled to her chest.

The water sticking to her skin had long gone cold, and her body was shaking, her skin gooseflesh.

She should be used to this, waking up in strange places- covered in gore- 

But sometimes it still managed to take her by surprise. Like tonight. Her eyes darted to the door. It was locked, and the curtains were drawn. No one would disturb her. Hopefully. She thought of the first time Sceleritas had appeared, right before she-

She cut herself off- she needed to sleep, to get the smell of iron and blood out of her mind. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she couldn't keep them open. The room was dark, and the shadows danced along the walls, the only light coming from the moon, its pale light filtering in through the window.

She could feel the cold air against her skin, and the weight of the covers against her body. The smell of lavender filled her nose. Her limbs were heavy as her body sank into the soft mattress.

Notes~

Hi! Thank you so much for reading this! I have the next few chapters outlined, I'm just working on actually putting everything together. This is also on my AO3 under the same username

[tziporarosen]

Burn The Devil:

Chapter Two

sorry for being MIA, I know most of you are following me for Sevika content, and I am working on it but life has been a little hectic so haven't had the time to keep writing as often. I'm posting this because its been sitting in my google doc, hopefully lesbian content is enough for you to keep your horny little minds occupied

Warnings: Mature Content, men and minors DNI, Marking, torture? idk anymore, its dark lol idk what to tell ya, she's a psychopath

word count: 1614

I open my eyes to be met with her staring at my legs, her pupils dilated with perversion. I move my arms over to my thighs to cover them as I edge towards the car door to be as far away as humanly possible. "Move your arms," the woman said drily, almost as if she was too bored to deal with the consequences of her threat. Terrified, I moved my hands back onto my lap slowly, my mouth dry from the tension around us. "Good girl" she whispers with a sly grin on her face, clearly amused by how easily I obeyed. After an hour that felt like an eternity, the car halts to a smooth stop, allowing me to get a glance at the large gates closing behind us, sealing my fate behind these tall walls.

The cold winter breeze hits my face as the front doors of the car open, each one of them stepping out, while I don't dare to move a hair on my head. The tall woman’s shadow appears on my side of the door, opening it as she leans down slightly. "Oh, how rude of me, I forgot to mention my name" she states with a chuckle. I kept my head tilted towards the floor, my eyes glued on the scratches that formed on my knees while I was on the ground. Suddenly, she grabs my face, lifting my chin up harshly. "Always look at me when I'm talking to you" she says with a grit in her teeth. "Do you understand?" she questions. I ignore her remarks and stay silent, hoping she will take my silence as compliance. " I said, do you fucking understand?!" she growls as another slap hits my face for the night. This time, it stung.

"I understand," I murmured out tearfully.

A smile crawls onto her face as she lets go of my face, rubbing the fallen tear with her thumb. "As I was saying" she cleared her throat. "My name is Carmilla" I put on a weak smile, acknowledging her words. Carmilla moves back and nudges for me to get out of the car with an open arm, her smile still remains as she watches me step out. A crunch is heard as my foot hits the layer of snow beneath me, each step dragging as the others stand beside us. Carmilla points her arm out, signaling me to walk towards the home in front of me. I stare at the mansion in front of me as she follows behind me, my heart tightening with every step I take. It's beautiful, warm brick and long windows overlooking the woods, its architecture spawning out of the Victorian era, perhaps even Roman, statues crying snowflakes and icicles. I walk over to the staircase leading up to the door, an overwhelming blanket of dread warming me against the frozen air. The smell of burnt wood and coffee hit my nostrils, as the howl of wind tickles the back of my neck. I take a deep breath to prepare my mind for the night ahead and look back at Carmilla as she places her hand on her gun, warning me silently. I quickly turn back around and make my way to the tall double doors, death greeting me with warmth.

"Walk to the staircase going down" she asserts as the door closes behind us, making my shoulders jolt as the trap is sealed.

"I don't want to, please, I just want to go home" I plead in a whisper, knowing if I go down there, I'm never coming back up alive. Carmilla takes a few steps towards me, her breath warming my neck as the bulge of her gun presses against my lower back. 

“You don't get to choose, Jane," Carmilla murmurs into my ear. The warmth quickly fades away as chills seep in, her voice more dangerous than the bullets in her palm.

A painful screech of a woman is heard through the halls of the brick cellar, followed by a loud whack before silence echoes around us. I look back at carmilla with horror in my eyes, only to be met with nonchalance and stoicism. "please" I sob out, falling to my knees, my body desperate for a way out. A groan is heard as she looks down at me, frustration lingering behind the boredom.

"You are starting to get a little annoying" she complains as she grabs onto the back of my hair, her fingers wrapping around the muddy strands. "If you won't walk there, I'll drag you there myself" she threatens as I keep crying, unable to compose myself for a task so simple yet the most difficult thing to do. A swift moment passes as she waits for my decision but my knees are glued to the floor, inviting her to fulfill the threat.

"Ahh it hurts, please stop!" I beg but it's to no avail, her fist remained tight around my hair as she dragged me across the tile floor. My lower back and legs start to burn as it's being scraped, my hair on fire as my heart thrashes against my ribcage. "I hate you!" I shout out in between cries, making the latter laugh as she halts.

"Oh, you'll understand hate in about an hour" she cooed as she opens a door before tossing my body into the dark room, followed by Carmilla shutting the door behind her. I crouch down on the floor in pain as my hand travels to my scalp, carefully soothing the sting.

"Get up." she ordered flatly as she took her suit jacket off before rolling up her sleeves. I catch a glimpse of her as her back is turned to me as she switches the warm light on. Her ironed white shirt is tight around her shoulders, veins seeping through the skin on her arms. I hold my position, too weak to get up as she steps towards me.I shut my eyes as her shadow towers over me, blocking the somber light in the foreign room. All I hear is my heart pulsing in my temple down to my toes as silence takes over before a harsh kick lands on my side, causing me to open my eyes in an instant as I yelp. 

"AHH" I scream out in pain as I curl up into a ball to attempt to soothe the pain burning onto my bones. She chuckles behind me and taps me with her foot before landing another kick to my back, this time hitting right in my spine. 

"I'll keep going until you listen. It's up to you" she elucidated composedly, yet her voice echoed in the distance of my ears, fading from the shooting pain. Mustering up the strength, I slowly get up with a wince, wishing for the kicks to stop. Holding my side, I stand up to face her, only to see the room I'm in.

The room is covered in gray cement where shadows clung to the walls like whispers, with endless shelves everywhere, caging the terror shrieking to escape. A clump of chains are situated in the corner, followed by a row of saws hanging on top of it. A metal chair, right at the center of the room like a stage, awaiting an audience to watch the unfold. A dangling bulb lightening up the room to show all its horrors. My eyes dread as I look over to the table in the left corner that holds an array of knives, guns, and throwing knives before my attention shifts back to the devil standing in the room with me. "You like my room?" she questions, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "This is for pretty girls just like you" she whispers as she digs her finger into my chest. It finally dawned on me that I am not simply getting killed, I’m about to be tortured to death.

"I promise I will listen to you. I didn't mean to act like that, I was just scared" I plead in a broken voice, praying that somewhere behind the evil lies a little sympathy. 

"Oh, but it's too late now, my love” Carmilla gently explains as she walks towards the chains. "Sit down, you're my guest after all" she says with a mocking tone in her voice. I was never religious, but for the first time, I searched around me for a glimpse of God, hoping he would make a deal with the devil on my behalf. 

Fighting reflex, I slowly walk over to the chair as she brings over a few chains. She pushes my body down to sit after I stay still, unsure of what to do next. "I swear, I have to do everything around here," Carmilla complains with a sigh leaving her lips. A cold chain hits my skin as my arms get tied to the back of the chair, the metal cold awakening my nerves. I feel myself trembling in fear as unconsented tears roll down my eyes, waiting for my untimely demise.

Her cold hand is placed on the back of my neck as she grabs all my hair into her palm. I flinch, expecting a pull, but to my surprise, she tucks it into a hairband. "What? Did you think I was going to pull your hair?" Carmilla questions, almost surprised by my reaction. "I just don't want your hair to get all bloody," she explains softly with a smile. My stomach drops as I look up at her with fear in my eyes, disturbed by her need for kindness. "What? It's so pretty, I don't want it ruined" the latter says admiring my tear-stricken face. 

[catapparently]

Hold Me Through the Darker Times

AO3 LINK • MASTERLIST

dean x cassie In which there's a power outage and Dean gets flashbacks. Cassie gives him his well-deserved cuddles. Note: this fic is amongst my first ever written, and the writing is not to my taste. It might get rewritten soon.

I sat on the edge of the pool, staring down at the outline of the crime scene recreation at the bottom. The fake blood, painted on the tiles to look as realistic as possible, glistened under the soft pool lights. The water felt cool against my bare ankles and feet, swirling every time the sharp autumn breezed brushed over the surface.

My thoughts drifted off to Dean and his father. He keeps saying that he’s fine, though he’s clearly not. Sloane, who stays up late working on her dangerous and definitely not legal projects, told me that Dean hasn’t been sleeping too much lately. She hears footsteps from his room in the dead of night, often followed by constant clanking and banging. Then, bundled up in many layers of clothes, he stays on the balcony or at the kitchen table for hours, lost in thought, lighting a single candle.

I knew that Dean has some mental blockage with the darkness and very early mornings. One day, we came back to the safe house very late from an investigation with Agent Sterling. It was nearly midnight. He was oddly jittery, and he was a bit clingier than usual, not wanting to let go of my hand. He’d avoided Sterling like the plague.

Suddenly, my blood froze in my veins as all the lights went off. Even the faint humming of the electricity in the walls disappeared. It was eerily silent, so silent I’d heard the strange sounds of furniture being moved in the rooms upstairs. Dean’s room.

I quickly got up from my seat on the edge of the pool and carefully made my way back inside the safe house, keeping an arm in front of me to feel the familiar furniture and hallways under my fingertips. I couldn’t see a thing and, surely, neither could Dean.

I passed the infamous wall of portraits and soon found myself in front of Dean’s door. They’d called the portraits on the wall a “reminder”, a reminder of what we were here for. When Lia had first welcomed me at my arrival, she said that it was especially “for Dean”. What did that mean? Surely she knew about his past. We all did. Why would he need yet another reminder of who his father, whose portrait was at the top, is? It angered me, a scarlet red blazing fury making me want to tear them all down, so scarlet it was maroon.

I hesitated in front of his door. Should I knock or just barge in? I finally decided and slowly turned the doorknob, intentionally making noise so that Dean would be fully aware someone was there.

I gently stepped into his dark room and was met with the sound of short, shaky breaths that could be heard from a far corner. “Dean. It’s me, Cassie,” I whispered into the room.

I had to make sure that he knew it was me, lest I would have to handle a panic attack from him. He still had terrible nightmares from back in the day when Daniel made him watch and listen to all the murders and tortures he committed, and Dean was still not over it. How could anyone be? He was a child. A child.

He’d pushed his bed snug in the corner of the room and was sitting where the walls met, cuddled up between large pillows and blankets and clutching his legs tightly to his chest. It seemed as though he’d made his own fortress to keep him safe… from Daniel Redding. From a Veronica Sterling. From every single part of his past that still tormented him, even to this day. He wasn’t to blame. Who could possibly forget and move on from all of that? Especially when it was your own father? Your own flesh and blood, the one who sets you forward into his legacy.

There was no electricity. No light, no sound. No warmth. It must have reminded him of back then. I didn’t even need to profile him to deduce it. No, one night, by the lake, he’d told me, bit by bit, the tales of his childhood with his father. Through silent tears and shaky tremors he’d relived everything, from the way he carved his initial into Sterling’s arm to the way he could still hear the screams and wails of the victims, all staring at his frozen form, traumatized and wide-eyed, hoping for some sort of help. He cried, like never before.

I waddled over to the side of his bed and sat down, trying to not re-balance the mattress too much. I crawled over beside him and pulled him closer into my arms with slower, cautious movements, making sure not to startle him.

Dean buried his teary-eyed face in the crook of my neck, his lips softly grazing my pulse, making sure I’m really there and alive. That I didn’t end up like them. His breathing had slowed, gentle warm puffs blowing on my neck. I could feel his gentle, atrociously long eyelashes brushing against my jawline, and half of my face was buried in his fluffy tufts of blonde hair.

I gently kissed his hairline and cradled the back of his head, murmuring softly into his ear. “It’s just a power outage, Dean. Agent Sterling is somewhere down the hall in her chambers. I’m here. We’re all here; Michael, Lia, Sloane… I’m sure that Sloane, craving opportunities to take apart something, is already working on getting the power back before the electricity guys make it to our block. Breathe, Dean.”

It was incredibly sweet how he was leaning on me but making sure not to shift too much weight onto me to not crush my body. He always treated his things with such gentleness and care.

I caressed the higher part of his back, my palm going in slow, comforting circles. Dean carefully pressed his lips to the underside of my jaw. “Thank you, Cassie. I love you more than anything in the world.”

[ke91ng]

late night with ayato

pairing: ayato x reader

cw: thigh riding, orgasm denial, nipple play, praise, pet names

wc: 1.2k

it was twelve am on a saturday night and you were watching your favorite movie with ayato on the couch. although it was your favorite, you were getting a bit sleepy while watching it. you were so comfortable lying on ayato’s shoulder and you couldn’t help but notice how nice he smelled. he smelled just like fresh linen and you loved it. it made you feel safe.

soon enough you had stopped paying attention to the movie playing in front of you both and all your attention was now on your handsome boyfriend next to you. you moved up closer on his shoulder, nuzzling him. you sat there and stared at him, admiring his alluring features. you were captivated by him.

“something wrong, darling?” ayato noticed your gaze towards him. you continued staring, unresponsive. “hello?!” he said in a loud tone, startling you.

you quickly came back to reality and laughed as you answered, “hey right here sorry”

“what’s wrong baby?” he frowns

“oh, it’s nothing”

“you sure?”

“haha really i’m sure, now let’s keep watching the movie” you say even though you already know that you’ll be staring at him rather than watching the movie. “if you say so,” he looks back to the screen and you go back to staring at him.

as you look him up and down, your gaze starts to shift towards his lap. it just looks so inviting. you want to sit on it, but you’re too shy to ask. ayato looks over to you and notices you staring again, but this time at his lap.

“wanna come sit, darling?“ he smiles and pats his lap. with no hesitation, you climb into his lap. the contact between your cold body and his warmth felt so good. he wrapped his arms around you, cuddling you. you stayed like that for a while. you had almost fell asleep in his arms. almost. just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt a bulge in his pants slightly poking your clothed cunt.

you accidentally graze over it, almost letting out a sigh. “a-ayato” he quickly looks away, avoiding eye contact.

“i can’t help but get turned on with you in my lap like this” he chuckles nervously. you look at him with pure lust in your eyes, then down at his lips.

“how about we fix that then, hm?” he wastes no time and kisses you passionately. you subconsciously grind on his bulge, desperately wanting more. you release a tiny whimper into the kiss. his lips were so fucking soft and you were in love with it. you were in love with everything about him. making out with him had felt like heaven and you were in a state of ecstasy.

the kisses become slower and longer as he deepens it. ayato licks your bottom lip then lightly bites it, causing you to elicit a soft moan against his lips. he enters his warm tongue in your mouth, startling you. you grind even harder now more eager than ever. both of your wet tongues meet, but he pulls away, leaving a string of saliva between your now swollen mouths. you whine at the sudden loss of contact.

“shit, babe. you’re grinding too much” ayato was getting rock hard and couldn’t handle it. he got another idea instead and smirked, “come ride my thigh instead, pretty girl.” you blush, your cheeks turning rosy. you get up from his lap and start to remove your clothing, hesitant at first. ayato remains silent and watches you intently as you strip right in front of him. it feels as if his eyes were burning through you. you were now completely nude.

although you were the only undressed one, it had turned you on even more. you sit on his thigh and almost groan as soon as your bare pussy touches the rough fabric of his pants. ayato eagerly watches you as you ride his thigh, smiling to himself each time you attempted to suppress your moans, which only resulted in failure. you were embarrassed at how easily you got off to just his thigh. but you couldn’t help that it felt so good.

“go on princess, let it out. let daddy know how good he makes you feel,” your loud moans instantly fill the silent room. with the movie being finished already, the subtle sounds of ayato heavy breathing could be heard. he wanted to fuck you so bad right now, but he had to be patient. you just look so fucking hot to him while you’re bouncing on his thigh, teary-eyed with drool dripping down your mouth.

your wet cunt creates a damp spot on ayato’s pants, grabbing his attention, “so wet for me, huh? of course you are.” you stay silent out of embarrassment. you felt so vulnerable to him like this, but a part of you liked it. in fact, you loved it. you loved how he sat there and watched your bare body get off to his thigh only. but you wanted more than just his thigh.

ayato stared at your body. the way your tits were bouncing while you rode him had enticed him, making him grab one of them while his other hand was gripping your waist. he gently plays with your nipple, rolling it between the pads of his fingers. he leans forward and takes it into his mouth. he flicks his tongue around it then softly bites it, causing you to mewl at the sensitivity.

you grind harder and clench your thighs. ayato knew you were close, but didn’t want you to cum just yet. he lets go of your nipple with a pop noise then licks his lips. “not yet, princess. can you be a good girl for me and wait?” you pout and nod your head. using his free hand, ayato reaches down to your leaking cunt and circles your clit with his finger.

“a-ayato, please,” you whined, wanting to cum. he continues playing with your sensitive clit, not saying anything. he then shoves his finger into your hole, making your back arch. your pace slows down but he bounces his leg, signaling you to keep going. he thrusts his finger in and out your dripping cunt as you moan his name. you couldn’t hold it in any longer, you were about to cum any second now.

he shoves two more fingers in and uses his thumb to flick your now swollen clit. “i’m gonna c-cum,” you pant. he swiftly removes his fingers, denying your orgasm. “do not cum unless i give you permission to, got it?” you nod your head as tears roll down your face. he thrusts his long fingers back in, but this time three. you scream his name and claw his back as his fingers reach the sweet place that your short ones can’t. “you’re such a good girl for me, taking my fingers like this,” he praises you.

you mumbled incoherently about how good his fingers felt inside of you. you were desperate to cum and it didn’t help that he was overstimulating you. he rams his fingers harder into your pussy as your body jolts from the pleasure. you grind on him harder, tugging his soft blue hair.

“cum for me pretty girl,” that was all you needed to hear until you were squirting all over his fingers and thigh, your breathing erratic. he continues thrusting his fingers into you through your orgasm.

you let go of his hair “that was amazing, commissioner’,” he pulls his fingers out then puts them in his mouth, sucking on them. “mmh, you taste so fucking good, love.” you look down at the tent in his pants.

“can we fix this problem now?” he asks. “of course, baby.”