#c-p fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cal-puddies · 2 years

Text

Think of You Later in my Empty Room// Calum Hood

Hello friends! It's been an absolute dream getting to co-write with Crystal again - it's been far too long! There's not much to intro here - as we mentioned, this series originated with us daydreaming about lighting up and getting down with our guys and for Cal, a lazy day at home seemed so natural, and its me so we made it a lil emo for ya.

I hope you checked out @kindahoping4forever's blog for Hit of Dopamine, Higher Than I've Ever Been, which is the Ash installment, and you'll want to go back and check out the verifiably unhinged Luke part tomorrow.

Warnings: Boyfriend!Cal, angsty!girlfriend worried about missing him when he leaves again. significant use of weed, high sex, oral sex, anal play, cum play, dirty talk containing strong language

Word Count: 6260

I Hope You Think Of Me High Series Masterlist

Crystal Masterlist // Cass Masterlist // Ko-Fis linked in our bios

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

It’s a lazy afternoon in bed, in the middle of a lazy day in the midst of a lazy week. Calum’s fingers tangle in your hair as you lay in his lap and you giggle softly as you look up at him, eyes warning him to be careful but also asking him not to stop touching you.

You hum contentedly to the softly playing playlist in the background, feeling your boyfriend’s eyes fixate on you as you stretch out in one of his favorite t-shirts. Your gaze happens upon his packed luggage by the door, a silent reminder of the topic you’ve both been trying to ignore, and you try not to let your face fall but judging by the sigh he lets out, he definitely noticed.

“We can talk about it if you want,” he offers.

“I don’t want,” you say stubbornly. “Anything outside of this room, outside of this bed doesn’t exist to me right now.”

He chuckles, smoothing his hand over the top of your head. “Baby… it’s only gonna be a couple of weeks. And then you’ll be on the road with me.”

You pout, “You just got home.”

“I know, love. And we’ve had a great week together, haven’t we?” You stay quiet, not ready to concede your point, so he continues. “We both knew the schedule when the tour got planned, a week to recharge between legs… knew it wasn’t gonna be easy.”

You sigh, “Cal, I can understand it and accept it and still be sad about it. I’ve just now gotten used to you being here again… I like having you here to talk to, to share things with… just to get a hug when I need one…”

“I miss those things when I’m away, too,” he reminds you, pulling your hands to his lips so he can kiss your wrists. He grins brightly, trying to cheer you up. “But it’s only a couple weeks until you get that time off and you can join me… I’m very glad your passport finally came.”

You can’t help but reach up to caress his raised cheeks. “Yeah… I’m looking forward to it. Really,” you admit, smiling back at him. “So much to do before then, though. Gotta get all my stuff together, all the stuff you’re definitely gonna forget to pack and want me to bring out with me.” You giggle at your own joke and giggle even louder at his pouty reaction to it.

“I know you’re teasing me but we should actually start seeing what all you wanna bring so we know whether or not we need to buy you a bigger suitcase,” he points out.

“So the rest of the week is gonna be busy is what you’re saying.”

“Yes, which is why we’re doing this today,” he says matter of factly, grabbing the bong off the bedside table, gesturing for you to pass him the lighter you’ve been fidgeting with. You toss it to him and sit up against the headboard next to him, watching lovingly as he repacks the bowl from your morning smoke session.

Ever the gentleman, Calum offers it to you first, paying close attention as you position yourself over the mouthpiece, waiting for your cue to light the bowl. You end up taking a pretty good hit and he grins at you as he clears the chamber for himself. You watch his nimble fingers wrap around the bong, gracefully lighting up and tucking the lighter into his palm as he removes the slide, inhaling a large hit and dramatically throwing his head back to blow it out.

You bite your lip, watching him reset for a second hit; his eyes are on you, watching you watch him, noticing your eye line is mostly on his fingers. He inhales and then pulls you in, first to shotgun the hit to you and then to slot your lips together for a kiss after you blow out the smoke. He offers you the bong and when you decline, he uses it once more himself before setting it back on the nightstand.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, patting his thigh. You climb up to straddle him, wrapping your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his neck. You let out a soft sigh as his hands rub up and down your bare thighs, eventually nudging your shirt up over your hips so he can give your ass a tight squeeze. He raises his eyebrows, surprised. “Forgot you’re not wearing panties,” he chuckles.

You smirk and kiss his neck. “What’s the point? You’re just gonna take ‘em off me anyway.”

“I like you naked… I like being naked with you too, is that so wrong?”

“Nah… you know I like our naked bods pressed together too.”

He shrugs. “They don’t even need to be pressed together… I just prefer ya naked.” He tugs the back of your shirt and you lean back, lifting your arms up so he can pull it off. His fingers trail over your skin as he removes your top and you shiver. “Love the way your body responds to my touch… spent weeks getting off to the thought of touching you again.” He drags his fingers across the tops of your breasts, along your collarbone, down your side and across your tummy as he whispers. Your body lets him know how much you love it by raising goosebumps over your skin and your nipples hardening.

You thread your fingers into Cal’s hair as he leans in to kiss on your neck, his stubble prickling your skin. He leans you back to allow himself more access to your body and he immediately takes advantage by wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. He rolls the other between his fingers and palms your breast, and switches, lavishing his tongue over the other side.

You gently scratch at his scalp and he looks up at you, sleepy, red eyes telling you how high he is. He grins before putting his attention back on your tits, sucking marks onto them before pressing a gentle kiss to each one and then kissing back up your neck. He engages you in a slow, sensual make out. His hands feel like they’re everywhere at once, all over your body while yours travel into his boxer to squeeze his ass. He eagerly shimmies them off, sitting up on his knees to toss them aside. “You’re so gorgeous, baby, never get tired of looking at you,” he coos, intertwining your fingers.

“Me? Look at you, bubba,” you sigh, looking him up and down, realizing how hard he is.

He takes your hand in his and moves them both toward his body, cupping his cock with his and your hand. “This is all you baby, you do this. Every damn time,” he explains. You bite your lip, keeping eye contact with him as he moves your hands, swiping his fingertips through your folds. “And I love that I do this to you,” he murmurs, holding up his wet fingers. He sticks them in his mouth and your chilled out brain is still processing that image when he starts moving much quicker than he has all day.

He grabs the super soft blanket from the foot of the bed and quickly shakes it out as he lays next to you again. You both watch, stoned minds fascinated, as the material balloons and flutters back down to cover your bodies, “Your favorite,” he mumbles sweetly, kissing your forehead before turning onto his side so he can drape his arm across your stomach and pull you in close against his chest.

The two of you snuggle together, alternating between whispering sweet nothings to each other and dozing off. Naturally, things eventually evolve into another sweet make out session and you can’t get enough of the slow, unrushed indulgence.

Cal enjoys touching you as much as you enjoy him touching you, which makes everything so much better. He softly moans, appreciating your body’s reactions to him, just like he mentioned. You lean in as he presses gentle kisses to your neck and sigh his name.

“Need you, sweet girl,” he rasps in your ear.

You rub your fingertips against his stubble and nod. “Yeah… need you too, handsome.”

He smooths his hand down your side, pushing his thigh between yours, moving his hand from your hip to your pussy to help him guide his cock in. Your breath hitches in your throat and your jaw falls slack. On a good day, he’s a tight fit, but when you’re high, you feel it extra. “Fuck,” you whimper as he sinks all the way in.

Concern colors his voice as he groans, “You alright, darlin’?” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut, breathing through the stretch. You turn your head towards him, looking for a kiss and his tongue is quickly in your mouth, trying to soothe you. He’s ready to reach for lube when you finally relax into him. “That’s good, baby,” he praises you.

Calum stays unmoving, buried in you, giving you more time to adjust and himself more time to strategize. If he thrusts into you, he knows it’ll feel too good and he’ll have trouble keeping things at a slow pace, which is not only the vibe of the day but something you clearly need. But if you move against him, he knows he’ll cum almost instantly and neither of you will get to enjoy the experience. You’ve been high with him enough times to recognize his dilemma and you offer a simple solution. “Just lay here with me, bubba,” you suggest. You add with a dreamy sigh, “Feel so good inside me.” Your eyelids are heavy as you turn to look at him, nipping at his nose before parting your lips for a kiss. He happily obliges and the two of you are soon caught up in an endless loop of soft open mouth kisses with curious tongues, while your fingers dance across each other’s skin, your bodies still intimately connected.

Your boyfriend is fully entranced with you and he wants more. One hand caresses your thigh while the other gently cups your tits, softly teasing your nipples. He groans softly into your mouth when his fingertips move over to your clit, gently at first. He feels how turned on you are and decides to add a little more pressure,and you moan quietly.

“You’re so wet, little darlin’.”

“How am I not supposed to be?”

He grins as you arch your back into him. “You know I love you this way… open, wet… love you high because everything feels so good to you and with you.”

“Caaaaal… oh… like that… please?”

“F’course darlin’.” He keeps sliding his fingers up and down your clit, varying it with circles every so often. You gasp at the sensations he’s given and your breath shift makes your pussy throb around him. “Ohhh…” Cal moans with you. “Mmm… baby, I think this is working for both of us.”

“It’s definitely working for me,” you pant, moving against him.

“You really like when I do this,” he mutters, sliding his fingers across your clit. “Your cunt squeezes so good…”

You moan at the action and his words, clawing at his arm with one hand, your other covering his at your tits. He lets you intertwine your fingers there and he holds you while he nibbles your neck and sucks your earlobe, all his cock still fills you, his hand working between your legs. He could not be more all over you than he is right now and you’re feeling completely overwhelmed by his attention.

His name spills from your lips over and over, he is the only thing you really know or care to know in this moment. You start pulling at his arm, trying to get him to stop rubbing your clit, even though you can’t put the words together. You turn your head toward him, softly whining, “Please, Cal… feels so good… don’t wanna cum yet.”

He slows his fingers down, speaking softly to you. “Ok, sweet girl, I can be patient if you can.” He holds his wet fingers to your mouth and you clean them, licking and sucking at them. “Sweet, sweet girl,” he murmurs, smiling at you. He wraps his arms around you possessively and the two of you lay cuddled.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in all of your senses. Unsurprisingly, they’re being dominated by the love and comfort you find in Cal. You take in his scent, which is always calming to you. His even breathing in your ear, his little loving whispers, his soft lips against your neck. You run your fingertips over his arms, softly humming in response to his presence. Everything seems to be moving slowly in your hazy, lovestruck mind so you’re not sure how long the two of you have been laying here but you wish it could go on forever.

“Calum… bubba,” you sigh quietly. “I love you… I love you and I love being full of you…”

He gently thrusts his hips in response, whispering in your ear, “And I love filling you, darlin’… And I love you. My best girl.”

You reach one hand back and thread your fingers in his hair. “Think I’m ready to cum for you, handsome.”

Calum uses one hand to pull you into a kiss, the other finding its way back to your clit. You immediately arch against him and he takes the opportunity to cover your face, neck and shoulder with wet kisses, groaning into your skin as he goes. Overwhelming you again.

The orgasm shouldn’t be a surprise but it feels like it comes on suddenly and it’s incredibly intense. You whimper and whine as you tighten around him and he’s sensitive enough from the weed that it makes him cum too. “Oh my god, Cal,” you breathe as you feel his cum spilling into you. Your nails dig in anywhere you can reach and you bite his arm where it holds you across your shoulders.

“That’s my sweet girl,” he huffs. “Always so good to me, shoulda known you’d make me cum like that.” He gently nibbles along your jaw.

“So good, love,” you murmur, turning into him for a kiss.

You lay wrapped up in each other for a while but you both get a little restless as the high starts to wear off. “Should get you cleaned up darlin,” he remarks. You clench around him as he pulls out and you close your eyes, giggling at the loud groan he lets out at how good it feels. You expect to feel the bed shift from him getting up to head to the bathroom but it never does and you turn over to see what he’s up to.

You find him digging through the bedside table, finally pulling out a baggie of pre-rolled joints. He lights one and takes one, two puffs before passing it to you. He watches you finish a hit before he’s pushing your thighs apart and settling between them. He leans back up for a quick kiss and to grab the joint from you, taking another hit before placing it back between your lips.

“I love seeing you like this… open… messy, my cum dripping out of you,” he groans. His fingertips slide through your folds and he licks the mess of his release off of them. You moan and put one arm behind you to prop you up so you can enjoy the show. You love when he gets like this. His tongue slicks through your folds, immediately teasing your entrance. “I never get tired of the way we taste together.”

You use one hand to lift the joint to and from your lips, the other stays threaded into Cal’s hair as you watch him noisily eat his cum out of you. After a certain point it’s obvious he’s moved beyond the task of cleaning you and he’s now just enjoying your body. He moans into you, nips at your thighs, holding them tight to leave marks, sucking hickeys as he goes. He sucks a particularly large one onto your hip while his thumb rubs your clit and you hear the pop when he pulls off. You blow out a smoke ring as you feel the stirrings of another potential orgasm and you wonder what you ever did to get this lucky.

Calum uses his head to gesture toward you as one hand is occupied kneading your ass, and the other is still playing with your clit. “Can I get that last hit, baby?” You take the cigarette from your own lips and stick it between his. Looking down at Cal, plump lips glistening, red and swollen from eating you out, killing a joint while still between your legs - you’re confident it’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen. You offer him the ashtray from the bedside table and he coolly tosses the finished joint in it before blowing his smoke at your pussy. “You ready to cum for me again?”

“Jesus, Cal… make me cum for you.”

His lips quickly wrap back around your clit and your fingers make a mess of his hair as he holds onto you tightly. His tongue makes quick, precise work of your clit and your reinvigorated high has you feeling overwhelmed once again. All of your senses are screaming Cal and only Cal.

He pulls your thighs over his shoulders, intertwining your fingers as he decides to start working his tongue inside you, instead of just playing with your clit.

“Holy fuck… Cal… please please please.” You whimper, panting out his name over and over.

“That’s my girl,” he hums, grinning against you. He works his tongue back in, as deep as he can and you buck your hips against his face. He teases, “Needy, darlin’?”

You chant his name, hips meeting every flick of his tongue. He’s both amused and turned on based on the giggles and groans he’s filling you with. He starts humming and ultimately that’s what sets you off. You swear you’ve never moaned louder in your life as you crash over the edge, hips grinding wildly against his face. Cal withdraws his tongue but slowly licks over your clit, bringing you down in a slow way. He lets go of your hands and grabs your hip, rubbing his thumb there reassuringly. You reach out, searching for his other hand, but it quickly registers that he’s using it to slowly stroke his cock.

He notices you’ve gone uncharacteristically silent as he quickly licks and cleans your second orgasm and when he pulls back to look up at you, he finds you with your face buried in your hands.

“What’s goin’ on, sweet girl?” He asks softly, gently pulling your wrists so you’ll uncover your face.

You stare at him, pink chubby cheeks all pink and sweaty, plump lips all red and swollen, a sweet look of concern coloring his expression. “Just… overwhelmed, I think,” you admit.

He settles in next to you, leaning down to peck your lips. “Wanna talk about it?”

You tuck a hand in his curls, smiling at him wistfully. “I’m not sure there’s much to talk about, Cal… I just feel so much for you… all this love and the emotion…” You trail off, trying to gather your thoughts, figure out how to articulate the lump in your throat. “Having all of your attention these past couple days… it’s just been so wonderful. You’re so wonderful. Make me feel so safe and loved. Known. And I think… I need to try and figure out how to comprehend… like… that’s all going away in a couple of days. I don’t know if you know, Cal… but I had a really tough time these past couple months without you. And now we’re going right back into that. You weren’t home long enough.”

Calum takes a long, deep breath, holding your gaze. You can tell he feels bad that you’re hurting and that it makes him feel even worse that he’s the cause and there’s nothing he can do about it. Fighting the frown that threatens to cloud his features, he gives you a soft smile and starts pressing kisses to your face. “I agree with you, love… I wish I was able to be here longer too. Feel like we were just getting back in the swing of things and now I have to go away again,” he shrugs. He squeezes your hand reassuringly. “But I promise you, ‘all of this’ isn’t going away baby. We’re gonna be back together again before you know it. And you know I’m always just a phone call or a FaceTime away. Even when we’re apart, I’m always there for you and you’re always there for me. That part doesn’t change.”

You nod, chewing your lip. You almost feel embarrassed at your outburst. It’s not like you didn’t know things would be like this when you started dating him. “I know, bubba… I didn’t mean to make it seem like you’re abandoning me or anything. I know you’d do anything for me, no matter where you are. I’m sorry.”

He does a double take, looking at you incredulously. “Sorry? Sorry for what?”

“I don’t want to make you feel bad about leaving. I want you to go on tour, I want you and the band to be successful enough so that you have to leave like this. You’re just doing what you love and I want that for you.”

He sighs, lifting your hand to his lips. “Baby, I also love you. And you’re just feeling your feelings. And all the feelings you just shared with me are completely valid. This is a lot to process. It’s a hard transition from being together all the time to not getting to see each other, especially since this is new for us.”

You give him a sad smile. “Are you about to tell me it gets easier?”

Calum rubs over your arm, grinning. “Oh, definitely not, darlin’, this part’s always gonna be torture,” he chuckles. “We’ll get better about dealing with it, though, I think. ‘Specially if we keep talking about it like this.”

You squeeze his hand on your arm. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Thank you for being honest. Know it’s hard with me sometimes. But I’m glad you told me how you felt.”

You run your hand through his curls and lean in, needing to feel his lips on yours. He pulls you closer and you feel his still semi hard cock brush your stomach. You stay engaged in the kiss but let your hand wander down his body, wrapping around his length. He hums in response to your touch but after a few strokes, he reaches down to stop you.

“I’m OK, sweet girl. Let’s get up and get some food, maybe some sunshine,” he insists, moving your hand away from his body and interlacing your fingers. Your face must display your confusion because he chuckles as he kisses your knuckles before pushing up off the bed and crossing the room to the dresser. He smiles warmly as he tosses you a clean t-shirt and pulls out a pair of shorts for himself. “You’ve given me so much this week, darlin’, think it’s OK if we say you owe me one.”

You follow Cal into the kitchen where he sets to work making a couple sandwiches and cutting up some fruit; you make yourself useful by pouring two tall glasses of ice water and grabbing the lighter, pipe and weed jar off the kitchen counter to take outside. The two of you set everything up on the table in the shade and just as you’re about to take your seat, you feel his hands around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You relax against him while the two of you eat and you can tell he’s doing his best to comfort you in light of the conversation you just had. His arm rests across your lap, he presses soft kisses to your jaw and cheek, his hands shower you in affection, never leaving your skin.

“Sweet girl?” He murmurs into your ear after the meal is over. You cock your head to indicate you’re paying attention and he brings the jar of weed around to your line of vision, shaking it. “You wanna smoke this with me? Should be a little bit more of a mellow vibe than what we had earlier.”

Mellow definitely sounds good to you right now, so you nod and turn to so you can watch his hands work, carefully packing the bowl. You bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together, enjoying the show. You still feel a bit overwhelmed from earlier but after witnessing how thoughtful and attentive he was in navigating your emotions, how willing he was to talk things out with you, you’ve felt the sadness dissipating and instead be replaced by a need to be close to him, to show him your appreciation.

Calum must be feeling similarly because midway through his task, he turns and quickly draws you into a hungry kiss before nuzzling his nose to yours. “What a perfect way to close out such a lovely day with my girl,” he murmurs, running his hand up your thigh.

You brush his hair back, letting your hand fall to his neck and then chest. You play innocent, though you know exactly what rubbing your thumb over his nipple will do. You watch as his eyes close and his lips part, letting out a soft moan. “You’re so good to me, Cal,” you coo, leaning in to kiss his neck, sucking a mark onto his collarbone. He would typically stop you but it feels too good and he loves you too much right now for him to care.

The pipe lays forgotten on the table as your kisses trail lower, allowing your tongue to poke out and tease his other nipple. His hand comes down to hold the back of your neck as you tease him and you groan against his skin when you feel his cock twitch in his shorts. His fingertips run up your thighs, bunching your t-shirt at your hips as his touch continues the journey up your stomach and ribs, then gently over your breasts and nipples and back again.

After a few more minutes of this, he gently nibbles your earlobe and tugs at the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off?”

You lean into his ear to whisper, “Can I ask for something in return?”

“Anything.” He says earnestly, tongue sliding over your lips before kissing them.

You look into his eyes. “Fill me?” You ask, reaching down to squeeze the tent forming in his shorts.

He lifts his hips with you still on him, kicking his shorts off and giving himself a few pumps to get fully hard. His fingers run up your thighs, ready to pull off your underwear but he laughs heartily when he realizes there’s nothing there.

“Still no panties?”

“Still no point,” you smirk, turning back around in his lap and lowering yourself down on his cock.

Cal hastily discards your shirt, burying his face in your bare shoulders as you continue to sink down on him. You let out a breathy sigh, wiggling your hips to get him bottomed out and your efforts are met with a low growl from him.

You gently turn his head toward you, giving him a heated kiss, finishing off by sucking his bottom lip. As you turn and press your back into his chest, his hands come around to cup your tits and he plays with your nipples, “I love the way you feel in me,” you sigh.

“I love the way you feel around me, baby. Tight, warm, wet… absolute perfect fit.”

You use his thighs for leverage as you push yourself up until just his tip is at your entrance and then you sink down as slow as you can possibly manage, intending to feel every vein and ridge of his cock. He pulls you back into a sloppy kiss and he’s practically shaking from the sensations you’re giving him.

“You OK, handsome?” You ask, teasing lilt in your voice.

“Do that again.”

You repeat your actions and he chokes on his moan. He settles his hands on your hips and though you expect him to try to get you to move faster, his grip just squeezes your skin as he sits back and lets you control the pace, groaning as he watches you take him over and over again.

“That’s it, baby… just like that,” he praises, head lulling back, closing his eyes to appreciate your slow work.

Your brow furrows in concentration as you move over him, thighs burning from going so slow but it feels so fucking good and he sounds so fucking good, you know the memory will be worth the pain later. You feel him lean in to cup your tits, giving them a nice squeeze before he turns your face towards his again, slotting your lips together.

His hand starts to drift between your legs but you bat it away, groaning, “Cal… let me do this, baby, let me make us feel good.”

He curses under his breath but obliges, leaning back to let you move freely. He goes quiet and you smirk to yourself, knowing he’s probably become hypnotized watching your ass jiggle and bounce as you ride him. You speed up just a little, trying to give him a bit more of a show, and sure enough you hear his breathing get heavier and feel a hand stroke down your skin, making a home for itself on the small of your back, wanting to touch you but also not wanting to obscure his view.

“Goddamn, darlin’...” He breathes, voice raspy and ragged. “Look so fuckin’ good riding me… don’t know why we don’t do it like this more often.”

You toss him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Because you’re a sweet boy who loves to kiss and look into your lover’s eyes… also the combo of staring at my ass and watching your cock disappear usually makes you cum pretty quick.”

Cal laughs loudly, “If you were seeing what I’m seeing, you’d be a lot closer to losing control too, baby.”

He groans loudly as you slow down again, rolling your hips extra slow so he can get a good look at your body engulfing him. “Well, next time we’ll have to make arrangements for that,” you tease, biting your lip as the possibilities run through your mind.

“Lotta things we’ll have to get to next time,” he teases back, letting his hand slide from your back to between your cheeks, fingers grazing your rim. He chuckles darkly at the way your body instinctively responds, how you fall forward, your back arching, your ass making itself more accessible to him. He loves that your body is asking him to continue but he wants to hear you say it so he plays dumb and asks, “Oh?”

“Yeah… please” is all you can manage but it’s all the prompting he needs. He sucks his thumb into his mouth and the wet noises of him coating it in spit, the loud pop when he releases it causing you to shiver in anticipation. You raise your hips, stilling your movements, holding your breath as you feel his hands on your backside again. He squeezes and massages your cheeks before spreading them and pressing his thumb against your hole. “Yesssss… Caaaal,” you sigh, overcome by the contrast of the dull pressure of his finger pushing inside you while his other four offer feather light reassurance just above the intrusion.

He groans as he prods further, getting lost in your breathy reactions and the bliss of watching your body accept even more of him. “Come on, little darlin’,” he rasps, squeezing your hip with his free hand. “Gonna keep movin’ for me?"

You whimper as you resume riding him, doing your best to set a new and effective pace even though you’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the knowledge Calum is filling both of your holes. His noises blend with yours, the two of you moaning together, you reacting to the deliciously full feeling he’s giving you, Cal doing his best to keep in control despite the fact that your ass looks unreal taking everything he’s giving you, that he’s feeling friction from his thumb on his cock and it’s bringing him closer to the edge than he’s ready for.

“Fuck, darlin’... can’t tell you how this looks… feels… gonna be thinkin’ about this every fuckin’ night when I’m gone,” he pants, a sense of relief washing over him when he hears the tone of your whines and recognizes that you’re about to finish as well. “So good… so fucking good, baby.”

You speed up, grabbing your tits, grinding down, chasing your orgasm, undecided whether focusing on the stimulation in your ass or your pussy is going to get you there fastest. Your body makes that call for you, deciding that Cal’s soft groans of encouragement are more than enough reason for you to cum. Your legs shake and you cry his name as your walls pulse around him, your third orgasm of the afternoon hitting you harder than you expected.

Calum thrusts gently up into you, happy to give you recovery time if you need it but also more than ready to follow you over the edge. You feel his hips start to stutter and you know you only have a limited amount of time to direct him. You quickly jut your backside out as much as you can and look behind you to tell him, “Cum on my ass, Cal… give us both something to think about while you’re gone.”

Another strained “Fuck” and a groan of your name are all he has time to respond with because your request has him immediately pulling out and pressing his cock to your cheeks without a second to spare. He struggles to keep his eyes open to take in the sight of his cum spilling onto your ass but as you moan at the feeling of his warmth coating your skin, he has to screw his eyes shut and vocalize with you. He gives himself a squeeze, milking out the last few drops before letting out an exhausted sigh and falling back against the chair.

He reaches over to the table, blindly searching for the napkins from lunch, finally finding them and quickly cleaning your messy skin. He squeezes your ass, massaging it more as he leans forward and presses kisses along your spine before wrapping his arms around your ribs so he can pull you back against him. He presses his face against your neck, still trying to catch his breath.

“You OK, bubba?” You chuckle, squeezing your arms on his.

“You’re too good to me,” he murmurs against your neck, inhaling deeply and pressing a few soft kisses to the back of your neck and shoulders.

“I just give what I get, love.”

The two of you sit quietly, naked and relaxing against each other, basking in the sun and the bond you’re feeling. You can tell your boyfriend is starting to doze off and you know if he goes, you’ll end up nodding off as well. “Let’s go back to bed, bubba,” you suggest. “That soft blanket and mellow weed are calling our names.”

You whine as you stand and stretch, hurting in all the best ways. Calum watches your every move and if you couldn’t feel his eyes on you, when you turn to look at him, the loved up grin on his face gives him away. You grab the pipe while he swipes up the discarded clothes and you wrap your arms around his middle as you walk back inside.

Back in the bedroom, you settle in against the headboard once more. You lean your head on Cal’s shoulder as he lights the pipe, smoke billowing around you. His suitcase is still by the door, staring you down, but it doesn’t seem quite as confrontational as it did a few hours ago.

"I'm gonna miss you," you say plainly. You peck his shoulder as you take the pipe from him. "I think I can be OK with that, though."

"Oh yeah?" He squeezes your thigh, lighting the bowl for you. He jokes, "What changed your mind, all the sex or all the drugs?"

You giggle, elbowing him as you blow your smoke out. "I just think days like today will make all the ones we have to spend apart a little bit easier… gives us something to remember, something to look forward to."

"That's true, that's a good point," Calum agrees, setting the pipe on the table and pulling you into an embrace. "Wouldn't be special if these days happened all the time."

"Yeah…" You agree wistfully. "Still gonna have one of these days when I come visit you though, right?"

Cal nods emphatically. "Baby, you're flying in on a day off and I'll tell you something right now, very first thing, the panties are coming off and not going back on for at least that entire day," he declares with a naughty grin.

You relax against him, missing him already but taking comfort in making plans and sharing jokes. "See, bubba, you're learning," you tease. "What would be the point?"

581 notes · View notes

pe0ple3ater · 3 months

Text

I'm cooking, I can't stop thinking about the three of them. I could keep going to be fair, I have about 600 more words written of this..

Tazercraft/Fit freaky link sex. Save me..save me.

If you asked Mike normally, he’d say that his link with Pac was the best thing that’s ever happened to either of them. Hard to feel lonely when someone’s thoughts, feelings, and sensations are just a thought away. Difficult to let anger simmer and burn away any feelings when it’s balanced by someone else's sadness and overflow of emotions.

Right now, though, Mike has never wished the link would go away more.

He takes off his glasses and runs his hand down his face, sighing softly and shivering yet again at the phantom feeling of hands on his body. He breathes slowly and tries his hardest to block out Pac’s physical feelings while still keeping a close eye on his emotions, ready to take over at the first sign of discomfort. Pac’s never been good at speaking up for himself, so Mike normally tries to stick around and make sure he’s okay. Especially now, especially with a new partner.

The difference between right now and every other time Pac’s had sex is that Pac is not trying at all to block the physical sensations leaking through. It actually seems like he's pushing them more onto Mike. Normally, his focus is split between keeping Mike away from that and enjoying the moment. Right now, though, it seems that he can’t be bothered.

Pac

It feels good doesn’t it Mikey?

Yes now can you please stop, I’m trying to get things done

Pac doesn’t respond, and the feelings don’t lessen at all. Mike breathes sharply at the feeling of fingers clumsily exploring a cunt that Mike doesn't have. It's a weird feeling, a phantom wetness between his legs. He can feel Pac’s pleasure and smugness radiating off of him through their link. Mike pushes away from the table he’d been working at and lays his head over the backrest of the chair. He breathes slowly and his hands shake as the feeling of being stretched becomes more intense. Fucking Pac, fucking asshole.

Pac I’m serious

Just enjoy it, feels so good

Mike rolls his eyes and pushes his displeasure through their link. He’s hard in his boxers, an aching heat that he knows Pac can feel just as much as Mike can feel Fit pressing a third finger inside of him. It seems a little unnecessary to Mike, there’s no way Fit is big enough to warrant such intense stretching.

He can’t do anything but sit and deal with it so he might as well have some fun as well. It's far from the first time they've done something like this.

Mike closes his eyes and pushes himself more fully into Pac’s head, forcing his way into his consciousness. The feelings instantly become 100% more intense and he cusses softly, grappling for control of some sort. Pac makes space for him and Mike finds himself staring through Pac’s eyes. He glances down and heat curls in his stomach.

Jesus christ

He’s so big right?

Pac groans out loud when Fit slowly starts to press in, Mike’s hand flys to the tent in his boxers and presses down. The movement only intensifies the pleasure Pac feels in return. Fit looks up and meets their eyes finally and blinks slowly, before laughing a little as a smile spreads across his face.

“Oi Mike” Fit greets like it’s nothing and Mike feels giddy excitement curl in his chest, courtesy of Pac. At the sound of his name on Fit's lips, Mike spits in his hand and wraps it around his cock. He squirms.

He wants you here just like I do

Shut up Pac

#fic #IDK the three of them are so compelling #Mike paying attention to Pac while he's having sex #important to me #mike cares #it turns pac on more #p@c #m!ke #f!t #qsmpnsfw

149 notes · View notes

t3chborb · 1 month

Text

It be Ramattra's birthday today (the first one since the cast's bdays were revealed), so obviously I had to make something special for such a monumental occasion~

The art may appear a little strange, given the pic's purpose. Shouldn't it be a bit more obvious that it's a birthday celebration? What's going on here?

Well...

Let's just say this art is indeed special. If you want the context, you'll have to read @korpuskat's "Date of Manufacture" (Tumblr / AO3) ;)

#Borb's Scribbles #Overwatch #Ramattra #did i really show up unannounced in someone's DMs over the birthday of a set of pixels? yes i did-#my apologies kat for not being able to shut up in your DMs lmao #anyway you should all go read the fic bc good lord kat C O O K E D #just mind the rating :P #i was hoping i'd get to shading each cable individually but after the what?#26 hours i spent on it already? i had enough of this art lol it's good enough as is

134 notes · View notes

xdeerlybelovedx · 6 months

Text

A wip ✨A contrast between childhood and young adult years with your overtly affectionate best friend. I have Carmeo & Promeo brain rot really bad ;; ;;

#Lies of P #Lies of P Spoilers #Carmeo #carlo geppetto #Romeo #Maybe I'll add a 3rd with KoP Romeo and P 👀 before coloring them all #my drawing ability is awful today though so this is all I'm gonna do for now ;; ;;#I wasn't gonna share this at first but man. The struggle I went through to get through this lol I wanna share my effort #It's not even that difficult of an image but man. Something in me today is like “No. No art today.”#Maybe I'll get back to writing my fic instead later c':

85 notes · View notes

nympippi · 2 years

Text

I love the c!Techno giving c!Dream his cloak in prison au’s/ fics

#dsmp #c!dream #dream smp #dreblr #c!techno #c!rivals #rivals duo #these hurt/ comfort fics put me in the ER with the punches they pull #pippi art #c!techno fanart #c!dream fanart #rivals oh my rivals #they are besties your honor who have a deep and interpersonal connection to each other that no one else understands #fanfic authors yall inspire me sm with y’all’s works #keep doing what your doing <33 #had fun doing the bell but yeah #enjoy y’all #I’m going to bed :P

848 notes · View notes

not-poignant · 18 days

Text

Stardew Valley - 36/? - A Stain that Won’t Dissolve - Alex/Sebastian

Title: A Stain that Won’t Dissolve Rating: Explicit Pairing: Alex/Sebastian Tags: Hurt/comfort, aged-up characters (mid 20s), minor character death, angst, injury, grief, miscommunication, bullying, enemies to lovers, dubious consent, internalised homophobia, closeted character, past child abuse, dyslexia, antagonist farmer, unrequited love, pining, acceptance, top!Sebastian, bottom!Alex, power dynamics, happy ending.

Summary: Alex hates Sebastian – which is great because Sebastian more than returns the favour – and what starts out as revenge fantasy turns into unironic lust, which evolves into unrequited love. Alex gets a job, Sebastian marries the farmer, and both of them lose almost everything before finding each other again. A story of two mutual bullies who learn how to messily grow up.

A Stain that Won’t Dissolve (Alex/Sebastian) - Chapter 36 - Thunder Inside My Head

In which Sebastian takes Alex 'all the way' and smashes his brain (and parts of his body) to pieces in the process.

#chapter update #a stain that won't dissolve #thespectaclesofthor #new banner is c r i s p #sdv alex #sdv sebastian #sdv fic #sdv fanfic #stardew valley #sebastian x alex #mm romance #queer romance #angst with a happy ending #enemies to lovers #sorry not sorry alex #sebastian did try to warn you #mind the new tags please!

24 notes · View notes

roseyrays · 1 year

Text

💌 C U P I D 💘 chapter four — rizzimura rizzki

summary: y/n and ni-ki were childhood friends since they were 3 years old, they’re friendship lasted forever and will always be, that was until ni-ki moved to korea to pursue his dream of being a k-pop idol. y/n also left japan to also pursue her dream of being an idol as well in 2022, she never forgot about him but it seemed that he forgot about her…but that’s what she thinks, will cupid give them a second chance?

warnings: name calling like "dumbass", y/n and riki are idiots, ignore timestamps (please ignore timestamps 😭)

💘💘💘

💌💌💌

a/n: AGHHH i feel like this is going a bit fast but since y/n and riki are childhood friends i have a feeling they would most likely reconnect their childhood friendship

idol!ri-ki x fem idol!reader (she/her is used)

genre: smau, childhood best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, she fell first he fell harder trope

💌 —previous masterlist next>

taglist is open!! please let me know if your username changed

— taglist (1) 💘 @aki1e @curly-fr13s @mitsukifilms @astrae4 @ethereal-faeri i @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @maerijw @felinows @emmefaestephens @ethereallov3 @j-wyoung @invusblog @sunkifye @xrvrqs @whippedforbeomgyu @marylalala @lcv3lies

161 notes · View notes

possessedbydevils · 3 months

Text

"And Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard Me. And I knew that Thou hearest Me always; but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that Thou hast sent Me. And when He thus had spoken, He cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth." (She read loudly, cold and trembling with ecstasy, as though she were seeing it before her eyes.) "Bound hand and foot with graveclothes; and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him and let him go. Then many of the Jews which came to Mary and had seen the things which Jesus did believed on Him." She could read no more, closed the book and got up from her chair quickly.

47 notes · View notes

house-on-neibolt-st · 4 months

Text

is making my c! quackbur coffee shop au set in a cat cafe too much???

49 notes · View notes

witch-sweets · 16 days

Text

Heres a poorly drawn comic about Hat Kid questioning The Prince's personality compared to Snatchers and how they aren't technically that different from eachother when it comes to "evilness"

(Also featuring a human MJ cameo for no particular reason)

In other words:

Peckneck literally becomes innocent in front of kids and his gf only to turn around and sue someone for looking at him funny

You can be a menace to society and still be oblivious and slightly naive when it comes to toxic relationships

Rose tinted glasses and all that

You can also be a menace to society and still be polite when the situation calls for it

Being nice to kids and stuff isn't that hard

Basically I'm trying to make him a mixture of most Prince portrayals in the fandom and a slight menace to society that carries Snatchers snark and chaotic behavior-

#a hat in time #ahit #ahit the prince #ahit snatcher #ahit hat kid #Just the TINIEST bit evil #Human Maj makes a cameo because I said so #Peckneck literally masks in front of the people he likes-#And then decides to throw a moldy orange at his tutor #He can be a bit evil #As a treat #He was always just a LITTLE bit sadistic #He only really embraced it after dying tho #Hat Kid has no idea that he was a menace #Boy is she in for a rude awakening #>:3 #Also for future reference he can only really be a menace when the situation is under control #If something is happening that causes him to P A N I C or get super anxious #That confident smug chaotic persona will crumble #So like say he gets yeeted to the future and nothing is recognizable #Thats panic mode because he has no idea what could happen if he screwed up #He can only be a menace if he has control of the situation #That plus the fact that he is still decently naive make for an incredibly emotionally unstable individual if something goes wrong #Which they do #So if ever lacks the “menace” trait in future fics and stuff #Just know it's most likely because something bad is happening

17 notes · View notes

blackjackkent · 13 days

Note

Heyyy, have you ever written your Hec and Karlach with the "blows up at the pier" ending? I am just not sure where to look for it lol but I always love imagining the "alt routes" but I understand if others are too sad to dip toes in

Oh man, anon coming in with the Big Feels out of nowhere. :D I love it. As per usual this got way longer than intended and very out of hand. XD

I have not written that before and it is indeed VERY sad to think about. But I am up for giving it a try! [rolls up sleeves, braces self]

(If you're interested, I also answered a similar version of this question a while back regarding Hector's life in a worldstate where Karlach got mind-flayered, which was ALSO sad. 😭 )

So anyway. Scenario, then: the brain fight didn't go super smoothly and Wyll is unconscious, so Hector is left with no other voice to save Karlach from her self-sacrifice.

-----

No one moves. The pier is suddenly deathly silent as the roaring of Karlach's engine falls to stillness. Hector sways unsteadily on his feet, clinging to the afterimages of the flame still burned into his eyes.

Don't breathe. Don't think. When you think, it will become real...

But there is no stopping it. Thinking is what he does best, after all. She taught him to live, for a while, to see the glory and goodness of the wide world outside the monastery, the bright intensity of its colors.

But she is gone, and he can see the grayscale already fading in again at the corners of his vision.

"No..." he whispers. His voice sounds choked in his throat. "No." Somehow he always believed, deep down, that something would come to save her, that they would find some way to make everything all right. "NO!" He falls to his knees, burying his fingers in the ashes; his palms blister in the lingering heat.

"NO. NO. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO NO NO NONONONONONO!"

He's screaming, he realizes distantly. Sobbing too. Everything has snapped; every ounce of the control that he wears like armor has vanished. He feels detached from his body, unreal, numb with grief. The tears pour down his face, blinding him.

It isn't fair. After everything they have been through, everything Karlach suffered, it isn't fair that this is how she ended, without even a body to bury in the city she loved. It isn't fair that he will never hold her again, never feel her arms around him, never protect her and be protected by her, never see the world at her side, never... never... never...

The world is so cold without her warmth.

"Gods, please... please come back to me!" he howls into the uncaring ocean view. "I can't... I can't..."

The first paroxysm of anguish starts to fade. He collapses forward on his elbows and knees, his face pressed into his fists, and sobs.

In the monastery, they taught him there was no pain that discipline and prayer could not soothe. They were wrong. He knows now just how wrong they were.

"The Moonmaiden sees me… no grief nor pain nor fury shall wrest me from her path…" He whispers the mantra brokenly, instinctively, desperate for the comfort it has brought him in other moments. But there is no comfort to be found even in Selune's light, not for this.

He is alone.

But no... not completely alone. A hand touches his shoulder softly; a form crouches gently at his side. Shadowheart. He can see the sympathy in her eyes, the compassion and shared pain.

"Come here," she says softly, and opens her arms to him, as he did to her after the House of Grief. And as she did then, he falls sideways into her embrace, presses his face into her shoulder and cries bitterly. Her armor feels cold after the furnace heat of Karlach's destruction, but the hug is tight and fierce and she rocks gently side to side, holding him.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers.

His voice is hoarse, almost inaudible. "It hurts..."

"I know... I know..." She looks up. The others are watching at a distance - those who remain, anyway. Astarion is gone into the shadows, Lae'zel to the Astral. Gale is crouched by Wyll's unconscious body, but his eyes are fixed on the back of Hector's head, unblinking. Minsc, his face drawn tight with regret, is standing a little closer, Boo balanced on one fist.

And Jaheira closes with them, moving to sit on Hector's other side. The druid rests a hand on Hector's back just above where Shadowheart's arms hold him. "Silvanus guide the light to the source," she murmurs. "Take her to what she justly deserves. By nature's will, what was given is returned. What was turmoil is now peace..."

Hector draws a long, slow, shuddering breath.

"May the Moonmaiden's light follow her into the dark," Shadowheart says softly. Her voice is still a little unsteady on the Selunite prayer, but she knows Hector needs to hear it. "The silver light always at her back..."

He swallows, sits up slightly, not pulling away from either woman's touch. They are grounding him, drawing him back to himself, and his heart rate begins to calm, the sobs slowing to unsteady, hiccuping breaths. "Perhaps," he whispers hoarsely, "perhaps had I served Shar, it would be easier... I would be prepared for such loss..."

He can feel Shadowheart give a single, sharp shake of the head.

"Do not think it," Jaheira says, her voice low. "You would be empty. It is no better. The grief carries all the meaning of what was; it is the love with nowhere left to go. In time it will be bearable, cub."

He does not want it to be bearable. He wants it gone. He wants her back. He wants the hole in his heart filled back in.

"My Lady..." he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. "See her soul as it travels outward. Take it where mine would go, I beg you."

Karlach once said that she liked the thought of her soul spreading out through the world, becoming part of it. He liked the thought too, for she was always full of life and loved the world so deeply, with such fierce devotion...

But he knows the truth, as it was taught to him. She will go to the Fugue Plane to be judged. And if no god fights for her soul, she will exist in limbo forever, trapped in another unending wasteland.

"Take her to you, My Lady... please. In my place, if you must, but do not leave her forgotten..."

----

Some months later, he and Jaheira travel at Withers' behest to a gathering outside the city.

It has been a good half-year, all things considered. The city is starting to rebuild, to regain some semblance of its former life. Hector has been hard at work among the Harpers, lending his strong back to building projects and his counsel to those in need of it.

He's filled out with new muscle and a sense of pride in the Gate. Jaheira has noted it more than once - with surprise, given that he once lived in such isolation from the city's life. But they both know, truly, where that pride stems from. Karlach could not live to see her city flourish again - so Hector must see it for her.

In his pocket always he carries the three copper coins Jaheira delivered to him a few days after the brain fell. Sometimes he listens to the message recorded on them. More often, he simply places a hand against them when the loneliness threatens to overwhelm him, feeling the soft warm buzz of the enchantment on them and imagining he can almost feel Karlach's touch.

Withers finds him wandering away from the party, late in the evening, and addresses him without preamble, grave as ever.

"Thou feelst it still," the skeleton says, with something oddly like kindness. "She is not here. She who means the most. Hast thy thoughts been with brave Karlach often?"

Yes. Of course they have. He doesn't speak of it much to Jaheira and the others, and he has tried to move on - and some days he can almost manage it. But her loss always sits in the back of his mind, inescapable. Every moment of victory bears its quiet reminder that she is not here to share it with him. Every failure brings the ache for her comfort and her warmth.

"I loved her so much," he says quietly. "It isn't fair."

"No," Withers says placidly. "It is not."

He feels a sudden tightness in the back of his throat. He has not spoken of her aloud for so many weeks, but Withers of all people coming to him with kindness brings the feelings rushing back, stinging into his eyes. "I don't know how I can go on without her," he mutters.

Withers's dessicated lips curl in a slight smile. "She battled in Avernus, fueled on naught but hope," he says. "And that hope came to become truth. In but a dozen tendays, an entire life was lived. More than mortal years-- mortal centuries were hers." He gives a slow nod in acknowledgment of Hector's grief. "Thou might endure a great eon of mourning. But thou must hope, as once she did. Her life... her happiness... was you."

Great, now he really is going to cry. That strain in his throat is rapidly forming into a lump that makes it difficult to speak. "And she was mine..." he whispers.

"Thy life was hers for a while," Withers says gently. "It is now thine again. Live it well." He reaches out a hand and rests it on Hector's shoulder. It is light and skeletal and bears no warmth, but it goes with the intensity Withers suddenly has in his expression.

"In the Fugue Plane," he says, "her soul burns so bright, it pains the gods to look upon. Recall that in time, all changeth and all is rejoined. Thou shalt be with her again."

Hector feels something tight come loose in his chest, and he nods unsteadily. These are not empty words; this is Jergal speaking, not Withers. This is, perhaps, the only voice available to him that could tell him truly what he needs to know - that Karlach is not lost to him, nor beaten into dim submission by the wasteland of the Fugue.

She is still bright. And she is waiting for him. And one day, when he has brought her city back to life, he will go to find her.

#hector carlisle #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #karlach #karlach cliffgate #tav x karlach #karlach x tav #karlach bg3 #bg3 drabble #bg3 fic #WELLP I'M FULL OF FEELS AND DIDN'T GET ANY WORK DONE TODAY #XD #things i love:#a) anon for sending me this unprompted <3 #b) that everyone calls Hector Hec in asks #c) that this somehow ended up LESS sad than the squidlach variant #d) withers <3 <3 <3 #this is all still very sad though and hector would like me to remind everyone that this is not canon XD #and that he and karlach are off for real killing devils in avernus and making out every chance they get :P

11 notes · View notes

space-writes · 4 months

Text

Romantic Snippet Tag

tagged by @cherrybombfangirlwrites, thank you! I decided to indulge myself and clean up a little Sorrow/Vren 5+1 fic I've had sitting around for a while, so please enjoy!

gently passing on the tag to @foxboyclit @serenanymph @eccaiia and @memento-morri-writes

Little Ghost (Affectionate)

Prompt: 5 times Person A calls Person B by a pet name and 1 time Person B finds one for Person A.

It had begun as an insult. Little ghost. As though he’d chosen his moniker all by himself, as though it hadn’t been bestowed on him by those that had come to fear the man they called the Wraith. As if he hadn’t wrapped that legend around himself like a second skin, worn it so close to the bone he'd become more ghost than man.

Sorrow was the only one who dared to mock it. Those who, at the start, had tried, had not lived to continue doing so, for wraiths are blood-soaked spirits. But then came Sorrow, glittering fool, calling him little ghost, taunting and teasing, making a game of his life. Oh, how he’d hated it. How he’d ground his teeth and imagined how sweetly a knife would slide between those ribs.

But now…

“Are you coming, little ghost?”

Sorrow looked back at him over his shoulder, one eyebrow cocked, the hint of a smile tipping the corners of his mouth, outline gilded in the setting sun.

“Of course.” Vren stepped up beside him, and the streets of Zhirasea swallowed them up.

“Get up.”

Vren tried to yank the sheets away, but now that Sorrow had gained the ability to sleep next to him, he had become possibly the most determined sleeper in Valloroth.

“Nn, five more minutes, avrai,” he grumbled, digging his claws into the blankets. Vren hauled again and this time had him tumbling out of bed, cursing in Infernal.

“We have things to do.”

Sorrow glared at him, shoving sleep-tangled hair back from his face. “You do them.”

“Get dressed.”

“Make me.”

Vren rolled his eyes. “Don’t start.”

Sorrow pouted, getting to his feet with as much dignity as a naked, nearly six-foot man who’s just been pulled from bed against his will could muster. “Sometimes you can be quite dull, little ghost.”

“One of us has to be.”

Sorrow could hardly catch his breath. He clutched at Vren’s hair as he devoured kiss after kiss, each one not nearly sating his desire. Vren’s arms wrapped tight around him, hands splayed over his back with a warm solidity that made him ache for more than sex.

“My ghost,” Sorrow whispered along Vren’s jaw. Stubble scraped his cheek as he trailed kisses up to Vren’s ear, sweat a sweet tang on his tongue. “Oh, my little ghost, you taste so good.”

Vren’s only reply was to pull him down to the bed—so easily this came now, when it had taken such fighting to get here. Still, he wouldn’t change any of it; neither he nor Vren wanted anything so easy.

He hummed against Vren’s lips, grazing his teeth over the lower and tugging to conjure that noise of half-pleasure, half-complaint he so enjoyed.

Sorrow was getting to like knowing just what kind of sounds his ghost could make.

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

Sorrow didn’t look at him when he asked, just shifted up the balcony to let Vren join him. Kashoskalya sprawled out below them—dangerous, to have a Mohaadi assassin in the heart of the Draconic Empire, but no-one knew either of them were here, and Sorrow intended to keep it that way for as long as he could.

“That is a complicated quetion,” he said.

“You are an irritatingly complicated man.” Vren leaned against him, shoulder pressing to his. Sorrow smiled.

“I like to think it’s endearing.”

“You always did have a ridiculous opinion of yourself.”

Sorrow chuckled and set his arm around Vren’s shoulders, a pleased warmth flushing him when Vren accepted it, shifting even closer. Go back to Infernus? Why would he want to when that meant returning to endless pulsing pain, and the constant reminder of who and what had caused it. His free hand came to his chest, idly scratching at the starburst of scars there.

“I might,” he said at last. “I expect I will miss it too much to stay away all the rest of my life. But…” he hesitated, as he often found himself doing when approaching this subject. Vren waited, silent. Ash and smoke, he was growing to love that silence.

“But if I go back, I will be going alone, yes?”

“Perhaps.”

“Oh?”

“Someone has to keep you in line.” He could hear the wry smile in Vren’s voice, and the pleased warmth purred in his ribs.

“Typically that is Aspiration’s job.”

“Well, now it’s mine.”

Sorrow looked at him now, at the strong profile of his slightly crooked nose, his dark brows, the burnished amber of his eyes as they gazed out over the city. He caught Vren’s chin, turning it to him.

“You always find ways to surprise me, little ghost,” he said, and kissed him.

Vren had never though he’d ever enjoy watching someone sleep. Yet here he sat with Sorrow’s head in his lap, listening to his soft breath, still quietly amazed that it had happened. It had taken so long for Sorrow to be able to fall asleep with someone else in the room without the application of extreme exhaustion to force him into it—having him here now, so close, so calm, so trusting…

It wasn’t exactly something Vren thought he deserved. Here he sat, though, enjoying the feel of the hand curled over his knee, and the occasional tap of a tail against his calf. What has this idiot done to me?

Sorrow made a brief, tight noise in the back of his throat. His hand tensed, just slightly. That was enough. Vren ran a hand through his hair as the nightmare came on.

“Wake up,” he murmured. “Come on—last time you took a chunk out of my leg, you prickly bastard.”

Another tight, pained noise; brows drawing down, lips pressed thin with unconscious terror. Vren laid his hand over Sorrow’s, forcing the tense fingers apart to admit his own.

“Wake up, Sorrow.”

At the sound of his name, Sorrow’s eyes shot open and he gasped awake. Short, sharp breaths blew hot against Vren’s leg before he pulled himself together enough to sit. He had that slightly lost, slightly angry expression that always came with the nightmares. An old, helpless rage tempered with a humiliation he couldn’t quite rid himself of.

“Thank you, avrai,” he said, voice rough-edged. He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Ash and smoke, I wish I were rid of them.”

Vren tugged his arm, and Sorrow fell easily against his chest with a sigh. He couldn’t take the nightmares from him, but a part of him liked that he could at least keep them from consuming him as much as they once had. Truth be told, it scared him how much he considered it almost a responsibility now to draw Sorrow from the sleeping terrors that came for him more nights than not.

“Thank you,” Sorrow whispered again. “My little guardian ghost.”

Vren flicked him on the ear. “Idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

It was, for better or worse, true. And despite his complaints, Vren didn’t entirely mind.

+1.

Aspiration called him boss, and often idiot. The K’zinla called him Prince and sometimes boss too, if they’d been spending too much time with Aspiration. He had named himself Sorrow out of spite and pain and as a bitter joke at his own expense.

Those he worked for used his title now for the most part, but the Naazgaran nobles he dealt with tended to call him feral still, which he bore with a suitably feral smile. They could call him whatever they wanted—they were still putting money in his coffers.

Vren called him by his name. No title, just his name, along with reckless and bastard and a great deal more insulting terms beside, which Sorrow supposed was only fair trade for all the times he’d called him little ghost, even though by now it was more pet name than insult and both of them knew it.

Vren bore one of his usual scowls as he returned to their table at the small tavern they’d stepped into out of the late-autumn Invereid rain.

“Get your feet off my chair, ‘Ro,” he grumbled, shoving the offending boots aside so he could sit. Sorrow let him, blinking stupidly.

“What did you just call me?”

Vren shoved a plate of food at him. “Your name.”

Sorrow couldn’t stop staring at him. He ate in silence for a few long minutes before finally looking up, exasperated.

“What?”

“You…that’s…that’s not my name, no-one’s ever called me that,” Sorrow said, keenly aware of both how stupid he sounded and how aware Vren was of the fact.

“Is it offensive in Infernii?”

“I…no, but—”

“Then stop complaining before I call you something that is.”

Sorrow stared at him a moment longer, then shook his head and turned his attention to his food. He picked his way through the casserole, poking vegetables around as he turned the word over in his mind. Ro. How small. How strange!

As the rain eased off and they made their way back onto the streets of Hounhol, he came to his decision.

“I like it,” he declared.

“Like what?”

“That name,” he said. “I like it. Only from you, I think, so don’t go giving my mercenaries ideas, but I like it.”

Vren chuckled. “You are ridiculous, as usual. Do all infernii get so tangled up over a nickname?”

“I am not most infernii.” Sorrow slung an arm over his shoulder.

“That’s certainly true,” Vren said. “Alright, then, ‘Ro—where are you dragging me now? What foolish thing do you have planned next?”

Sorrow’s heart clutched with warmth. Yes, he definitely liked that name. Quite a bit, in fact. He chewed his lip in thought, then a slow, wicked smile crossed his face.

“Tell me, little ghost—where’s the best place to find a decent bed around here?”

fin

Valloroth taglist: @cherrybombfangirlwrites @memento-morri-writes @foxboyclit @lawful-evil-novelist @at-thezenith @morganwriteblr @fayeiswriting @serenanymph @sam-glade (ask to be +/-)

#writeblr #tag games #romantic snippet tag #original writing #fluff fic #five and one #original fiction #valloroth blogging #oc fiction #c: sorrow #c: vren #nicknames/petnames are my favourite thing in fiction. top ten trope for me #fox u know exactly what i am angling for :p #im still stupid about these two i can't wait to get back to them later this year #my writing

14 notes · View notes