#okay well the show has dark content in it what did you expect??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freedomfireflies · 9 months

Text

Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun pt. 2*

Summary: The sequel to Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun

You find yourself sat next to the Harry Styles on a plane.

And what better way to get to know each other than a quick induction into the Mile High Club?

Word Count: 2.1k

(Thank you for letting me spam you guys for one whole year🥹💞 I love you!!!!!)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Hi, Stranger.”

Harry grins as he pulls the small door shut, secluding the two of you in the world’s smallest bathroom. “Hi.”

“Gonna be honest, I didn’t expect you to show,” you admit.

“Oh?” His arms cross as he takes a step closer, effectively closing the only gap between you. “And what about our earlier conversation suggested I wouldn’t?”

“Well, maybe the fact that you’re all talk and no game,” you retort, eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Or the fact that you don’t seem like the quick-airplane-bathroom-fuck type.”

“I have a song about eating pussy, is that not enough?” he teases, a smirk dancing across his lips. “I feel like that should solidify my case.”

“Yeah, you’d think…but no.” Your eyes trail across his jaw, drawn to the sharp curve, intrigued by the subtle beauty. “Maybe if this were the first-class bathroom. Which would make a lot more sense for you.”

“What’s wrong with coach?”

“Nothing. When you’re poor. Which you’re not.”

“And that has to do with us fucking…how?”

You hesitate, mouth clamping shut. “I…don’t know.”

Nodding with an amused grin, he reaches out to place his hand on the small sink and lean forward, trapping you to the wall. “I think you’re nervous.”

“Well no shit, Sherlock.”

He hums, kind eyes helping to relax you. “Guess we’re both more talk than game.”

And maybe you are. Maybe this is nothing more than you calling his bluff. Or calling your own. Maybe this was you getting swept up in the idea of Harry Styles. The man, the myth, the legend. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that you could.

Either way, despite the nerves, you’re oddly tantalized by the idea. Wanting to seize the moment, the opportunity that most people would kill for.

So, you surge forward, and press your lips to his.

It’s a hesitant kiss. On both ends. The first few seconds a tad awkward as you work to wrap your heads around how you got here. How you really feel about it.

And then…something changes.

He steps closer, straightening up to deepen the kiss, and you nearly wilt when his large hand slips around the back of your neck to keep you against him.

Things suddenly feel effortless. Practiced yet relaxed. Mouths and tongues moving together like they were always meant to. Molding seamlessly until all of your air belongs to him.

His other hand finds a home on your hip, pushing you against the small bathroom wall while his knee takes its place between your thighs.

And when he finally pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, it feels as though everything makes sense.

“We can go back to our seats,” he whispers, giving you an out.

But you don’t want an out.

“No,” you murmur, fingers tangling in the shirt on his chest. “No, you promised to make me scream your name. Can’t pussy out on me now.”

The smirk returns as he brushes his thumb along your cheek. “So I did. But I guess it depends on which name you call me by.”

Your breath hitches.

“You can call me Harry,” he begins softly, dipping back down to ghost his lips across yours, “or you can call me Daddy.”

And discovering that Harry Styles has a Daddy kink makes more sense than it should, and you have to grin as you press your mouth to his.

“Okay, Daddy,” you agree, just to watch him swallow. “Then why don’t you make good on your promise to fuck me?”

You watch the most beautifully dark expression flash across his face before he’s grabbing onto your waist to spin you around.

Your cheek is pressed to the wall while those large hands that have been taunting you for the past half hour begin to tease you again. Crawling up the inside of your thigh until he can grab onto the waistband of your jeans and yank the material down your legs.

“Just so you know,” he grunts in between the rustling of his belt, “I’m normally pro-foreplay. But I figure we don’t exactly have the time right now.”

“I know,” you agree. “It’s fine.”

He reaches around your hip to slide his palm down your cunt, and you sigh when you feel him cup you in his hand.

“What’s this?” he hums, rather sadistically as his nose brushes against your cheek. “Guess I didn’t need to work you up, anyhow. Seems you’re already dripping for me.”

Your lashes flutter as he kneads your pussy for a moment before he lets go to take hold of his cock.

“So, what’s it gonna be, angel?” he whispers, dragging the tip through your throbbing folds just to make you whimper. “You gonna be loud for me? Or are you gonna be quiet?”

More of a rhetorical question, you figure, because the answer is given to him when he pushes in, and you moan fervently.

He chuckles from behind you before it melts into some sort of delicious grunt. “That’s it. So fucking tight, darling. Take it, just like that.”

He pulls out, giving you only a second of reprieve before pushing back in. Stretching you a little more as he drives himself deeper into your cunt.

Your lip flies between your teeth as you swallow a string of curses and whines, desperate to feel him in every way possible.

“You all right?” he calls, and you feel his fingers gently squeezing your hip for reassurance.

It makes you smile. “Yeah,” you say back, nails scratching down the wall. “Go. Keep going.”

He obliges, working himself in at a quicker pace, and you see him watching out of your peripheral.

He seems mesmerized by the way his cock disappears into you. Addicted to the sounds now beginning to echo around the small space. Mixing in beautifully with his soft pants and your anguished whimpers.

“S’a good girl,” he murmurs beneath his breath, almost as if it wasn’t meant for you. “Fucking taking me so well, look at you. Pretty pussy just stretching for me. Likes having Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?”

And maybe you shouldn’t be surprised by the filth coming from his mouth, but you are, and it makes you clench until you’re both gasping.

“Shit, angel,” he groans, burying himself a little deeper as you keen. “Like it when I talk to you like that, hm? Not so vanilla now, yeah?”

You want to thank your lucky stars for that damn book that led you both to this moment, nodding quickly as you squirm back against him. “Yes, Daddy—”

He pushes in to the hilt, overcome by the pleasure your words provide. His chest presses to your back, and instantly, you reach over your shoulder to grab onto his curls. Needing to hold him in some way.

“Fuck,” you sigh, vision hazy as your body works to accommodate him. “Okay go. Go, Harry, go.”

He smiles at the use of his name, and it does something strange to the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach.

“Okay,” he agrees, pulling back and readjusting his grip on your waist to keep you steady. “Be good, yeah?”

The faster pace begins. Hard thrusts that nearly knock the wind from your lungs as your body shakes with each snap of his hips into yours.

It’s oddly satiating. Perfectly full and teasingly relentless. Quick fucks aren’t normally your forte, but this? With Harry? In the world’s tiniest bathroom?

Euphoria.

“Fucking squeezing me, darling, shit,” he exhales, gripping you tight in his hand. “Pretty little pussy looks so good clenching around my cock. Like it, angel, don’t you? Like letting me fuck your sweet cunt the way you’ve been needing?”

And you don’t know how he knows you’ve been so desperate, but he does, and it makes you mewl as you drag your nails down his scalp.

“Oh, I know,” he coos but it’s dark. “Can just tell. So fucking cock drunk. Desperate for anything I’ll give you. Even let a stranger fuck you, hm? Let me take care of you the way you deserve?”

“Yes,” you breathe, mindlessly reaching back for his other hand. Once you find it, you intertwine his fingers with yours and drag his palm up toward your neck. Placing it against your throat until he seems to get the hint.

He says nothing, simply squeezes you in his grip. Until the corners of your vision get fuzzy, and the small bathroom gets smaller.

“That’s it,” he hums, almost as if luring you into the darkness. “Let go for me, baby girl. Just like that. Daddy’s got you.”

Everything is heightened. Every sense, every second. You can feel his facial hair rubbing against your cheek. Can feel the calloused tips of his fingers cementing to your exposed skin. Can taste the drink he had on your tongue.

There’s a knock on the door. A hard tap, and Harry’s pace doesn’t falter for even a moment as he calls, “Fucking occupied,” before slamming back into you.

The noise you make is loud enough to be heard by whoever was on the other side. Perhaps his intention, and it makes your pussy clench once more at the thought.

“Bet you’d look fucking perfect on your knees,” he continues, unrelenting. “With my cock down your throat. Fucking drooling for me. And you’d take me, wouldn’t you? Take my cock like a good girl. Make me proud.”

The suggestion is exciting. The image in your head of you looking up at the glorious stranger from your place on the floor. Getting to feel him on your tongue. Down your throat. Anywhere he’ll have you.

You bet he likes to see his cum painted across a partner’s skin. Likes to run his fingers through it. His tongue. Collect it and taste it before spitting it into their mouths.

Your entire body shudders from the mental picture and even if Harry doesn’t know what garnered this response, he seems pleased with it. Tugging on you tighter until you’re practically sitting on him.

You’re running out of time. Running out of willpower, and he releases your throat to find your clit. The first time he’s truly touched it, and the sensation that follows nearly kills you.

You hadn’t anticipated being so sensitive, but you are, and it’s apparent to you both from the way you jolt when he pinches you.

“Oh?” He’s chuckling again, entertained by your reaction. “S’that all it takes then? Poor little cunt just needs some extra attention?”

He presses into you and begins to rub small, hard circles along the delicate nerves. Ignoring your cries and pleas for more.

Instead, his foot kicks your legs further apart, and his mouth attaches to your neck. Nipping just below your ear as he whispers, “Bet you taste fucking divine, hm? Bet I could write a whole song about the way this pussy tastes.”

He lets go just to bring his hand to his mouth. Sucking on the soaked digits and groaning in your ear.

A shiver rolls down your spine before he drags his saliva coated fingers back to your clit. “So fucking sweet, angel. But you already knew that, didn’t you? S’why you were teasing me all fucking day. Cause you knew I’d get addicted to you.”

You’re so close to release, you can see it. Can actually see the blinding stars barreling toward you like meteors.

“And what if I am, huh?” He goes faster. Gets sloppier. Needing to get you both there. “What if I’m fucking addicted to you now? What if I can’t go without the taste of you?”

“Have it,” you sough, rolling your hips back against his cock. “Have me, Harry, please—”

“I will,” he growls, and you feel his cock twitch the closer he gets. “Fucking will, angel. Need you to come for me, yeah? Come for Daddy. Let me feel you around me, darling. Right fucking now—”

Everything is a blur. Maybe he comes first, maybe you do. It all melds together until it’s one, long string of orgasms and pleasure.

He doesn’t let you go for quite some time. Pushing you to the very brink, making sure it goes as far as it can. Even after you’ve come down and are squirming away from the ministrations to your clit.

The sadistic need to make sure you’re ruined is evident, and he only stops when you begin to collapse in his hold.

“Okay, easy, angel, easy,” he whispers, grasping onto your hips to keep you upright. “You’re all right, yeah? You okay?”

You nod weakly as you catch your breath, and he takes this as a good sign. Allowing you to stand on your own when you’re ready.

But he doesn’t go far. He bends down and pulls your jeans back up. Makes sure you’re all right.

You notice he purposefully leaves the mess between your thighs, and when you shoot him a questioning eyebrow, his only response is, “For later.”

Which you don’t mind at all.

I KNOW, I KNOW IT'S BEEN FOREVER!!!! I'M SO SORRY BUT THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME AND BEING SO NICE, ILY ALL 😭💞💞💞

Previous Part:

~ Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282

I'm also tagging you guys from the first part just in case, but if you've already moved on, I can absolutely understand 😭💞: @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #smut #harry styles one shot

1K notes · View notes

gojoath · 20 days

Text

⟣ welcome to gojoath's 𝒴𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐸 𝒴𝒰𝒯𝒜 masterlist! all fics include yandere themes so please read the warnings on each individual fic before interacting :) all characters are written as adults / aged up. minors dni.

listen to the playlist for the series here.

DRABBLES / FICS

˖ ݁ . �� the fics are in rough order of how they happen (kinda)

hello, you — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you think it’s a funny stroke of fate that you keep running into the same pretty stranger, albeit not in your best moments. little do you know, he’s known you for months before that.

i’ll give you my heart — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you think it’s going well with yūta— the new guy you just started dating despite the way you’ve only seen eachother a handful of times. that’s exactly what he wants you to believe though, this is all going according to his plan.

take your turn — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yūta has always been a giver when it comes to you and your pleasure, but you do think it’s about time that you repay the favour.

ease the ache — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. your glad your boyfriend yūta was always prepared, offering you a sleeping pill when you were having trouble was helpful— but why do you feel so needy suddenly?

two halves of a whole — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. sometimes you swear you have two boyfriends, the one that loves you and the one that fucks you. wc, 2k.

stay home instead — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you loved your boyfriend, you did. but you think there’s only so much of his.. devoted personality you can take before the cracks begin to show. wc, 6.4k.

are you still watching? — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. your boyfriend, yūta, doesn’t ever like sharing what’s his. apparently that statement goes for your fictional crushes too. wc, 3.2k.

never have i ever — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. a party with your boyfriend isn’t something you expected to turn so sour. but maybe that’s because you didn’t expect your past relationships to start coming out.. or for one of them to be sitting in the room with you. wc, 9.2k.

learn to play nice — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. you know that your boyfriend yūta could be a little bit… difficult, but as much as you love him, you can’t let him get away with it all the time. wc, 5.1k.

the part that lingers — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yuta finds it hard to live his life without you, it’s even harder for him to get off when you’re not there. you’ve unintentionally broken him that way. but it’s okay, he still has his ways of ending up wrapped in you. wc, 2.8k.

just as he left you — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. your (ex) boyfriend yūta decides to pay you a visit on his way home from a mission. although he forgot how pretty you look when you’re asleep.. and how hard it is to resist. wc, 6.1k.

you said forever — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yūta’s never been one to back down easily. especially not after you told him you’d be together forever. soulmates. you can’t expect him to just let you go. wc, 4.9k.

EXTRA

just this once — 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮. dark content. mdni. yūta thinks it’s cruel how good you feel despite the fact he’s not felt all of you yet. he knows that you can feel better, he hopes you’ll give him all of you just once, that should be enough to keep you forever. wc, 2.9k.

#repost for you guys who don’t get ao3 :)#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #cw yandere #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta smut #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #okkotsu yuta smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x you #okkotsu yuuta smut

167 notes · View notes

railingsofsorrow · 9 days

Text

5 hours apart

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: “I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts.” “I don't want you to miss me. It's tearing me apart.” from this prompt list.

pairing: spencer reid x svu!detective!f!reader

w.c: 3.7K

warnings/content: long distance relationship; crying; sadness; discussions of a case related to kidnapping (brief); migraine; this o.s approaches healthy siblings dynamic and some childhood trauma, be aware; discussions about marriage; spencer does not beat the pipe cleaner allegations.

A/N: decided to do a crossover one shot between criminal minds and law and order: svu (my newest obsession)because I love both shows (and nick amaro has older brother vibes) and it fit pretty well. there's like a few Spanish terms that I used and please consider that I did Spanish in high school and had a few classes afterwards, forgive me if I made some misspellings.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There are two missed calls on your phonescreen when you turn it on. The heavy load of paperwork you needed to finish plus the migraine that did not leave you alone forced you to turn your phone off during the daytime so you could concentrate on working. Amanda and Fin telling you to go home wasn't as effective as your boss ordering the exact same thing upon seeing your tired state. Thankfully, by the time he did that, you had already finished everything and you happily obliged.

The keychain clinking against the doorknob makes you drop your shoulders in relief. You aren't home but it's close enough. It's been a few months since you have stepped into your brother's place, but it's the same as you remember. Grey couch, the spotless kitchen island that you can see as soon as you walk in, the innumerous pictures of your brother and your niece scattered around the walls.

You throw your dark brown blazer on the loveseat across the room and sit on the couch unceremoniously, pressing play on the latest voice message.

“Hey... It's me. I called you before and it went straight to voicemail, I... I forgot to say something.” You snort, hair falling off of your ponytail as you let it loose down your shoulders. Never have you ever seen your boyfriend forget something. “I'm sorry I couldn't make it. I know I promised and I really wanted to go but the case, it was a serious one, they needed me.” The guilt in his voice breaks a part of you inside. “I-I'm sorry I let you down.” There's a beat, some voices in the background that you can't make out who it is because they're too far away. “I love you and I'll make it up to you, okay? Call me when you can, please.” And the message ends.

You only notice you start crying when a sob echoes through the room and the sound comes from you.

You were never mad at him. Deep down, you expected him to cancel on you because of a case, you knew you would if you were needed. Both if you are not the kind of people who let your people hanging, especially if the reason is work. And that's fine, when you started dating Spencer, that was the first thing you understood, as he did.

Being far away from him is what kills you. You manage to work long-distance. He visits you on his (rare) day-offs, you escape for a few days to Virginia. It works. It's how you do. But there are moments in which you just need him close and it's not like you can drive over to his apartment right away. 5 hours apart does that to a couple. It's not unbearable, but it's painful.

You miss him.

So you dial the number you know by heart, sniffling quietly on your bubble of loneliness in the empty apartment.

You don't know where he is, if he's home, if he's in a completely different timezone. You don't care.

It rings twice before his voice fills up the call. “Hi—Hey, angel.” He sounds frantic. You smile thinking he must have been waiting for your call.

“Hey, Spence,” you respond, folding your knees on the couch. “Are you home? I didn't text first to see if it was a good time to talk, sorry.”

“It's always a good time to talk to you.” He says without hesitantion. “I'm on the motel, packing.”

“Oh, so did the case end okay?”

You can feel the relief through his exhale. “Yes, we found the boy on time. He's finally back with his parents. Home.”

Your mouth twitches, “that's good.” And you make sure to add as you always do, “you saved a life today, I'm proud of you.”

His soft awkward chuckle causes a tearful grin out of you. You can practically see him blushing.

“Thank you. It was... It's a good feeling.”

“Are you happy?”

“Not really.”

You brows furrow slightly. “Why? Did something happen?”

“I miss you,” he says. “I am happy that we saved someone today, of course but... You know, the first person I wanted to tell it to was you. I just— I miss you. So much it hurts.”

You close your eyes as the tears slip one by one down your cheeks, you felt their salty taste. Your chest clenching as you stay silent for what feels like several minutes until Spencer's concerned tone breaks the silence.

“Angel?”

“Please don't miss me. It's tearing me apart.” Your request doesn't quite make sense but you don't have time to think it through before you say it. It just what comes out of your heart.

“Please, don't cry.”

You let out a tearful laugh, attempting to dry your tears foolishly.

“I'm always missing you, sweetheart. I'm sorry but that's inevitable.” He adds, sadly.

“It hurts so fucking much.”

Spencer clears his throat and you know he's either refraining from crying himself or trying to mask it.

“I know. I'm sorry.” He pauses. “I wish I was there.”

You shake your head even though he can't see it. “'s not your fault. It's your job, you can't help it.”

"I hate it that you're crying and I'm not there to comfort you."

"I'm fine," you whisper, sniffling. "Don't worry about me. Today was just... A shitty day, really."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You hum, fiddling with the soft fabric of the light green hand-knit throw blanket your brother always left on his couch. "Migraine." It's what you say and all he needs to know to wince in the other side of the line.

"Did you take something for it?" Spencer is aware of your frequent migraines and how much they bother you.

"Yeah, it's okay now." You reply even though there's a little painful pang in the back of your back right now.

"Maybe you should try to sleep a little. Did you know that sleeping seven hours every night impacts on your focus, body weight and immune system? Actually, adults aged from sixteen to sixty years should all get at least seven hours sleep every night, but that's almost never happens because of people's usual hectic work schedules-" He sucks in a breathe upon noticing he's rambling non-stop. You laugh and suddenly the harsh grip on your heart diminishes a little. His voice appeasing the momentary heartache you're going through.

"Says you. Who never sleeps, anyway. And work on caffeine 24/7."

"Hey," his tone has a tinge of amusement but he pretends to be offended. "I sleep."

"You do when I'm there. Cause I force you."

"Oh, you're so cruel to me, angel."

Your lips widen into a smirk. "That I am."

The conversation carries on for a while, until you figure out which time it is where he is and immediately orders him to go to sleep because he has an early flight to catch in the morning. He's reluctant, but he eventually lets it go because you need to sleep too and you will talk in the next day again.

Before he hangs up, he asks, the first time he hesitates in the call. "Uh, does- does your brother hate me?"

Your brain takes a few seconds to grasp what he's implying, until you remember what was supposed to happen this weekend. Spencer would come over to your place in New York to meet your brother.

You bite your lip, straightening your legs out on the ouch. "Yeah, about that..."

"He does, doesn't he? I don't blame him, I did screw up-"

"Wait, baby, that's not it. I... I actually didn't tell him." A pause, you curse under your breath. Now he must thing you didn't want him to come. "Spence?"

"Did I pressure to do something you didn't want? I should have asked you if you wanted meet to meet him, right? I think I kind of invited myself over and-"

"Stop." You cut him off. "No, Spencer. You didn't pressure me into anything. I want you two to meet, of course I do. You're one of the most important people to me, but I really forgot. I'm not making up an excuse."

"Alright, yeah. Okay." He says and you hear a door closing and wood creaking. He must be sitting on the bed.

"I love you." You receive the mental image of the scrunch of his nose and the smile he can't help whenever you drop the L bomb out of nowhere. "And you know he doesn't have to approve anything, right? Nick has no say in who I date or not."

"But he's your brother, he's important to you and I would meet him someday anyway because- I, well." Your body shakes with laughter and the phone almost drops from your hand.

"What, are you proposing now, genius? Through the phone, really?"

"Don't make fun of me." Spencer warns playfully.

You take a few seconds to process that he doesn't deny it. You said it as a joke but he didn't even deny it that he thinks about marrying you. God, your chest could combust.

"You think about it?" You ask, shifting your position to bring your knees to your chest. "Us? Someday?"

"You mean getting married to you? Yes. I do. We haven't discussed it yet, but... Yes, I do think about it."

"Mhm."

"Has it ever... crossed your mind?" He's reluctant, shy to ask even. You find it cute as everything Spencer Reid does. Marriage is something that never really crossed your mind, to be honest. You think is nice when people get married and show their love to their loved ones, but your parents' relationship carved a fear deep within your chest and your entire perception of love had to be relearned through the years they separated. One thing that you learned is that no person and no relationship is the same. It's not because your father broke your trust and destroyed a part of your and your brother's childhood that your future partners will do the same. It is easier said than done, but you're coming around to the idea.

"Not before you." You admit quietly.

"Oh."

“Yeah.” You ponder out loud. “It scares me a bit, that I consider spending the rest of my life by your side. Doesn't it scare you?”

“It does,” he replies. “But the idea is nice to think about.”

You smile, letting out a soft breath. “Yeah, it is nice.”

A male voice calls out for him in his end and you know he has to go. You had already taken up much of his time, anyway.

“They want to go to a bar nearby to celebrate.” Spencer explains to you, not sounding too thrilled about the idea.

You snicker, “go have fun, genius. You deserve it. Try to enjoy it even if this is not your usual idea for fun. I love you.”

“I love you more.” Spencer says and laughs at your groan of protest on the other side.

“We're not going to be one of those couples who never hang up because you love me more or no, I love you more, Spencer.”

“I just like to mess with you.” He admits with an edge of amusement to his tone. And damn you miss the smirk you know he's making right now.

“Yeah, I know. Now go, have fun. And have a safe flight tomorrow, text me when you land?”

“Of course, angel. Try to sleep a bit, you need the rest.”

You smile. “Sure. Bye, Spence.”

“Bye, angel.”

An hour or two goes by since your phone call with your boyfriend and manage to cook some dinner and then throw yourself back on the couch while a random show is played on TV. You end up falling asleep and wake up upon hearing the jiggling keys against the door of your brother's apartment, rubbing your eyes in your disoriented sleepy state. Checking your phone, the screen says 11p.m.

Nick stops midway from his way to the couch, where he was probably about to throw himself at. From his tired eyes and hunched over stance, you are able to tell how exhausted he is. “Why are you always here?” Nick throws himself on the floor instead, his head falling against your knees. The tone he used would make you slap him right behind his ear, if you weren't still with your mind in that phone call and a million miles away from New York. “I thought you rented an apartment. Or is it that you just miss me?”

“I don't miss you.” You mumble, voice muffled by the soft fabric of the blanket covering half of your face. “I see you every day, idiot. How can I miss you.”

Nick raises an arm towards your calf and you immediately kick his hand away before it can get to your feet. He chuckles, fluttering his eyes open for the first time since he got home. He glances up at you, who's glaring at him. His smile falls.

“What's wrong?”

You shrug, pulling your knees up to your chest and turning your head towards the TV. You weren't paying attention since the show started, you had no idea what is going on. “I cooked dinner. Left you a plate on the microwave. Go eat, I bet you didn't have a proper meal. You never do.”

“That's not true—”

“Eating burritos isn't a proper meal, Nick.” You groan as he tries to take another look at your face. “Stop it. I'm fine.”

“Yeah, I don't buy it. What happened?” If there's one thing your brother is, that thing is anxious. Nick is a worrier. And he's completely paranoid about knowing what's going on to find a solution before the time runs out. Even if there is no time to run out. He gently tips your chin up, frowning. “Why have you been cryin’?”

You turn your face away from his reach, sitting up on the couch. You take a moment to form your answer and he's anxiously waiting for it, coffee-brown eyes inspecting your matching ones.

You decide to go simple, but it's also the truth. “'s not a good day, that's all.”

He blinks and then the concern opens some space for understanding in his expression. And just like that, he figures out what's been making you upset. You don't doubt that he really knows, since your brother and you always understand each other with a look.

“D'you wanna talk about it?” His usual sarcastic tone gives place to a softer one. The one he uses in moments where his little sister needs her older brother.

You shrug, letting out a sigh before resting your head against the couch, eyes studying the ceiling. “It's nothing, I just... I miss Virginia, that's all.”

Nick hums, nodding. “You mean you miss the skinny kid from the FBI.”

A laugh bubbles out of you unexpectedly, you playfully shove his shoulder as he offers you an unimpressed look.

“Stop being mean to him.”

“Me?” Nick pulls himself up to the sofa, groaning when his joints complain as he stands up. “'m not being mean to anybody.”

“Okay, grandpa.”

“Hey,” he throws a pillow at you, narrowing his eyes threateningly. “you don't get to be mean to me.” You roll your eyes. There he goes playing the older card that just makes him look exactly like an elderly. “Why don't you take a few days off? I can't remember the last time you did that.” Before you can respond to that, he frowns, turning to you as if he just had thought of something. “Or why doesn't the skinny kid come and visit you? It's not that hard.”

“He was gonna to that this weekend.” His raised eyebrow makes you sigh and shake your head. “He had a case last minute, so he couldn't.”

He pauses, munching on his cheek. You question his thoughtful expression.

“What? No jokes now?”

“It's serious then? You and him.”

You blink at him, puzzled by the question. It wasn't what you expected. “W—yes. Why would you ask that?” He had walked up to the kitchen to grab a bite of whatever you had made him and you followed right behind.

“Nothin’,” he says, turning the microwave on and stepping towards the fridge to grab something to drink. “I just never saw you in a serious relationship.”

You pause.

Okay, you had a few flings in your life, it's not like your love life is messy, it is actually pretty simple. You and the people you've previously have relationships (or situationships) enjoyed having fun. You weren't looking for anything serious and when you were... well, your job got in the way. Until Spencer Reid. He's the unexpected occurrence that showed up during a local case to investigate a series of murders in the city of New York and both of your teams worked together. If someone told you before that you would get attached so quickly to someone and consider driving five hours just because you missed them then you would have laughed in their face.

Your brother might actually have a point. He had never seen you in a serious commitment before, he has, however, had the opportunity to try and scare off some of your partners — the ones he accidentally met, at least.

“I don't need to disclosure every aspect of my love life to you, Nicholas.”

You crossed your arms as the corner of his lips lift in a knowing smile. “Stand down, tiger. I just made an observation, no need to get defensive.”

“I'm not.” You say, shifting on your feet, suddenly self-conscious with the whole conversation. It's difficult to talk about someone so important to you to another someone that's important to you. You've never share much about your personal life and inner struggles with anybody, and that has everything to do with the man you call “father” in the biological sense. But Spencer managed to push through these walls and he didn't demeaned you because of your trauma, neither did he treated you as if you were made out of glass, that you could shatter at any given second. He understood you and you understood him, which is why love has always been within your reach in your relationship. It was only a matter of time.

“He's important to you, isn't he?” The microwave beeped but none of you move.

“Yes.” You utter, playing with the ring on your index finger. “I know we don't— we don't talk about these stuff...”

“We can if you want to—”

“No, it's not— That's not it. I mean. You're my brother and we have a good communication but I never felt the need to formally introduce anyone to you because you're family, Nick. You're my only family,” you finally look at him. “If it ever got to the point, one day, where it was worth it for me to do that, then I would. I just thought that I wasn't made for love, you know?”

You see him rushing to disagree with you and probably say you can't think like this and that is not true, so you intervene before, smiling.

“But I know that that is not true, alright? Porque le quiero y sé que él también.” His eyes soften at your claim and you feel like crying again because you miss Spencer and you wish he's there with you. “So yeah, it is serious. And the reason he was going to come visit me was to meet you properly.”

“What?”

“Yes. That was my reaction too.” A fond smile takes over your mouth. “He insisted he wanted to meet you because he knows how important you are to me.”

“Oh.” He is officially caught off guard and it makes you chuckle. That is a rare image you're seeing in front of you. No one catches Nick Amaro off guard. One point to Spencer, I guess. “Well, now I just have to meet this chico who stole my sister's heart.” He's back to his playful persona, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair, and you flip him off. “Let's see if he is all that you claim he is.”

“He's a good guy, asshole.” He hums, munching on his food. “You'll see,” you say with a small grin while you turn back to the living room to lay back on the couch.

“We'll see.” He mumbles from the kitchen, shaking his head when a thought crosses his mind. He can't believe you fell in love, he still sees you as an annoying toddler who wouldn't let him be at school while he was trying to impress his friends because you were too shy to make your own and would cling to him like a lifeline. In all honesty, Nick has always enjoyed your company, it makes him feel grounded. He cares about your well-being and tries to protect you from every bad thing you have to face, but he knows he can't. Sometimes, you gotta face things on your own. And, sometimes, you don't need your older brother to shield you from pain. It's hard for him to accept that, especially after what you both endured through your lives.

You're all grown up now and he has to stand down his overprotective side because you can handle things, he knows you do. Though he'll be there, in the corner, having your back as always. Because that's what brothers do.

Hopefully, this Spencer Reid will pass the test.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[translation]

Porque le quiero y sé que él también. = because I love him and I know that he does too

chico = boy, kid

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ;

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

215 notes · View notes

ollie-lolly · 1 year

Text

Royal treatment (18+) Diavolo x gender neutral reader

Note: HUGE thanks to @l3viat8an8an for giving me the inspiration to write this! (My dyslectic ass is dying HELP).

started and finished on: 13th of march 2023

Media: Obey me

Relationship: Diavolo x gender neutral reader

Warnings: This contains very suggestive content, minors please don't interact

This is part one. part two part three

Word count: 963

He just was so attractive, you could never quite put a finger on why you made that conclusion. Maybe it was his smile, the way he carried himself or it was his great round a-. "Mc what is going on in your little mind?" Diavolo's voice halted your train of thoughts. You quickly scrambled to keep the conversation going. His eyes seemed so innocent but had a dark playfulness to it, like he could exactly read whatever you were pondering about. "I was just reminiscing on an event that happened this month". Diavolo leaned in "Do tell". "W- Well I saw this really pretty ring in a jewelry store and it has not left my mind since". "It must be very special to you". "I suppose so! I have been working my butt off in Ristorante Six just to even get a chance of-".

"Sweet, sweet little human, why didn't you come to me earlier?". "For wha-" He came to your side. "Barbatos!΅. Barbatos being the great butler he is, came just around the corner. "Yes my lord?". "Could you get me something?". He gently put a hand on your back. "Go on, show him what you want". You shakingly grabbed your phone trying to maintain a normal breathing pattern. Desperately searching for the picture through your camera roll, when Diavolo's hand slowly went downwards. Eventually resting on your lower back. "H- here" You showed it to Diavolo first. "You have wonderful taste, would you like anything engraved on the inside?". "Your name would be lovely lord Diavolo".

You turned the phone towards Barbatos, he quickly eased the sexual tension "I'll be back within an hour or so" He bowed and gracefully left. "I- i am sorry i panicked, i didn't mean to say your name Lord Diavolo I-" Diavolo chuckled and softly grabbed your face. "Do you regret it? I can call him back if you want ". You felt your face heat up. "N- n- no i thought it was improper of me i am so sor- ". He softly placed the finger of his other hand on your lips, "Shhh, please don't be. I already rather enjoy the sound of your idea. Besides this is just a small gift, see it as a beginning of something new"

From then on, you found a small pile of gifts resting on the top of your bed almost every night. Each with a special note attached. You heard a notification:

Chat

Diavolo: Do you like the new gifts I sent you?

MC: Are you sure you sent this to the right person?

Diavolo: You humans have a lovely sense of humor!

MC: Lord Diavolo I was not joking, how could I repay you for all this?

Diavolo: Please sweet human, this is just play money. You deserve this and much for fundamentally serving as the avatars family therapist. With me you can finally have peace from such hard labor. Repaying me is really unnecessary, but if that's what you desire you are welcome to visit me tomorrow.

MC: I am looking forward to it!

Diavolo: So am i.

You had no idea how much he loved spoiling you. All of his belongings meant nothing to him next to you. His heart broke when he saw you the next day. "My little one you have been really quiet, are you okay?"

You looked up from your tea "Well, there is something bothering me. Remember back when you gave me the ring?". Diavolo looked at you, his hands neatly folded "Yes of course i remember". "Well" you looked at the very ring trying to form your sentence. "You said it was the start of something new. What did you mean by that? What did you wish for?". He laughed "Before we continue could you do me a favor?". "Yes sir". "Could you call your work for me?". Now that was something you did not expect. "There is something I have to discuss with the owner". You grabbed your phone, called your work and gave it to him, still finding it weird that he didn't use his own phone. "Hello i have come to say that MC is quitting their job, good day" you were left speechless.

"Now to come back to your topic and why I did that. I wish to change our relationship."

He opened a small drawer under the table. Revealing a small piece of paper with beautiful handwriting. He grabbed a small pot of ink with its matching quill. "This is what I want us to be. Recently I did some research and I found something that would suit us quite nicely. If you give me your treasured blessing, you will be my sugar baby from this point onward. Not much will change if that is what you wish. I will keep giving whatever your heart desires and you don't have to work for a single minute for it.

In return you give me your time and whatever romantic advancements you are comfortable with. Now I know this is a very important decision, you can take your time with your deci-". He got cut off by the quick scratching sounds of the quill hitting the fine paper. "I accept" Now it was his turn to be taken aback. "I- I guess we are moving on to the next step, how intimate do you want our relationship to be?" You put the quill neatly back in the ink pot. "Well if i call you daddy, does that answer your question?" His eyes widened "Well this is a pleasant surprise. My first request begins." He opened another drawer in the table and revealed a small wrapped gift. Proceeding to push it towards your direction. "Go change into this. Daddy will wait here, my little monarch".

#obey me #obey me x mc #obey me x y/n #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me smut #obey me!#obey me fanfic

1K notes · View notes

rayslittlekitten · 9 months

Text

Can I?

A/N: Okay y'all. It's here, it's done. Y'all voted on this a while back and it was a bit challenging as I made the mistake of starting to write it with Will in mind so I had to make adjustments, but I think I figured it out. Thank you so so much to @musings-of-a-rose for taking a look at this for me. You are a doll!

Rating: E (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6,033

Pairing: Benny Miller x BFF! F! Reader

Plot: A night of unexpected events occur when you and your best friend innocently test out sex toys you had drunkenly purchased for shits and giggles.

WARNINGS: This is the first fic I am NOT including warning tags because I don't want to spoil anything. There's nothing typically potentially triggering like dark stuff (i.e. CNC) but still I wanted to keep it a mystery going in. SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Your friends were supposed to watch the fight with you tonight but they had bailed with some excuse or two except for your best friend. You thought that his brother would at least still be joining as they usually do everything together - like you wouldn’t be surprised if you found out they hold each other’s dicks while the other pisses - but it’s just going to be you and him tonight. Instead of going to the bar like originally planned, you both decided to pick up a case of beer and hang out at your place. It’s cheaper and less crowded.

There’s a rap at your apartment door and you go to open it. As expected, it's your best friend with the supply.

“Hey, Benny! Just in time!”

"Hey, you got a package," Benny says as he hands you the beer. He bends down to pick up the small brown box off the floor by your door. "What did you order?"

"I have no idea what that is," you reply as you make your way over to the kitchen to stick it in the fridge. "I don't remember ordering anything. Where does it say it's from?"

"The return address just says Warehouse, in Ohio," he replies, inspecting the non-descript package and following you further into your apartment after shutting the door behind him.

He hands you the cardboard box before taking his jacket off and making himself at home. You rip open the package and after seeing the contents, you laugh out loud.

"What's so funny?" he asks, walking closer to you.

"This was a drunk purchase. I totally forgot about these!" You reach in to pull out the items and show him your new purchases.

"What are those?" He looks perplexed.

“This one is a vibrator I keep seeing on Instagram, but it's supposed to be like, amazing," you answer.

"How the hell are you supposed to use that?" He takes one of the packages from you and inspects it, looking at the pictures on the box.

"Well, one way you can use it is you insert this side into your pussy and this part is supposed to sit on your clit," you point and explain to him. "It also comes with a detached remote so someone else can control it.

"I don't know if that's a terrible time or a great time."

"The vibration is supposed to be very powerful but quiet," you add. "Supposed to be discreet. They try to sell it by showing women supposedly wearing it in public under their clothes without anyone apparently knowing and their partner has control of it and she's like losing her shit."

"I'm curious now."

"For science!" You declare as you snatch the package from him. You start opening it up and pull the contents out. "Shit, it needs AAA batteries. TV remote!"

You head to the living room and he follows you. You take the batteries out of your TV remote and shove them into the new toy. After turning it on, it buzzes lightly in your hand, moving subtly.

"Let's see how crazy it can get." You start playing with the buttons until it goes up to the highest setting and Ben's eyes get wide as saucers watching it flop around in your palm, practically jumping out of your hand.

"Jesus Christ!" Benny hops back.

"Yeah, now imagine that between your legs."

"I'm not sure I want to. Looks like it would scramble all the sperm inside my balls. Besides, I don't think it was made for my body parts," he points out.

"You just don’t have an imagination," you jab. "Hmm, should we test drive it?" you suggest as you shut it off.

“What do you mean?" he asks curiously.

"See if the hype is real," you answer. "Especially that other one." You point to the other toy that's still in its package.

"That one's supposed to feel like your clit is actually getting sucked on."

"I didn't even know such toys exist," he confesses.

"There are soooo many sex toys out there, you don't even know. Why don't you go get us some cold ones while I figure these out?" you suggest.

"You really wanna do this?” He checks again.

"Yeah, why not? It's not like we have anything else better to do except watch two grown men beat each other up," you state. “Come on, this isn’t any different than the time we accidentally found Will’s porn stash and you got a boner.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t jerk off.”

“You totally did. Not in front of me, but you were not discreet when you snuck off to the bathroom with one of his magazines to ‘take a shit’,” you look at him knowingly.

“Okay, fine,” he shrugs and adjusts his forward-facing cap. “You have a point.” He heads back into the kitchen to grab some beer.

When he comes back with two opened bottles in hand, he finds you reading the manual and reviewing the other toy.

"So how exactly are we testing these?" he asks, settling down next to you on the couch and taking a gulp of his beer.

"Well, I'm not gonna stick it down my pants if that's what you're thinking. Would that be too weird?” You scrunch your nose while looking over at your best friend who looks just as clueless.

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking. It ain't going down my pants. No amount of alcohol is gonna get that to happen."

"Okay, I didn't think this through. I mean, I guess we can just test it on our arms or something," you shrug cluelessly, thinking of the first thing that comes to mind and then going back to the manual.

"How would that work?" Benny asks as he takes the remote sitting next to him, inspecting it.

As you begin to answer, he starts randomly pressing buttons and you shriek, jumping in your seat. Benny also jumps back, spilling some of his beer as he reacts to your sudden outburst.

"What the hell?!" He looks over to you.

You instantly reach for the vibrator that happened to be sitting between your legs, snug against the front of your pants and toss it at him. Benny tries to dodge it like it's a dead cockroach, but it lands on his lap and he immediately launches himself off the couch. The vibrator continues to bounce around the cushion of the couch until Benny finally shuts it off.

"What the hell was that, man?" Benny looks over at you.

"It was between my legs when you turned it on, you ass!"

“Well, what the hell was it doing there? You said you weren't gonna test it that way."

"I wasn't! It just happened to be there while I was reading on how to operate the other one. Why'd you turn it on?" You shoot back.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing!" He shouts. "This shit is like rocket science! How do you women even use these things?"

"Men use them too," you correct him.

“Well, clearly I never have," he admits and returns to his seat, flicking the vibrator towards you to make room for himself.

"You're such a prude. It's not like I was wearing it," you say, grabbing it away from him.

"I'm not a prude! You freaked out so I freaked out." He takes another gulp of his beer.

"Whatever," you mumble, still feeling a bit flustered and embarrassed by what had happened. You turn your attention back to the other toy.

"Wait, you've never used any sex toys before?" you shift your attention back to him.

"Nope," he shakes his head.

"Not even with a partner?" You raise a brow.

"Well, one time this girl wanted to make things interesting and suggested a dildo, but it wasn't for her," he starts. "She wanted to stick that up my ass and I was not about that. Especially not after what I had for lunch that day."

"Aww, no peggy for Benny?" you exaggerate a pout.

"Hey, you should think twice about who you're poking fun of.” He shows you the remote in his hand and turns it back on, spooking you when the vibrator goes off between you and Benny.

"Okay, you're having too much fun with that." You reach over to grab the remote from him but he moves it away from your reach.

You lean in further, but his long arm prevents you from getting access to it. At this point, you’re practically climbing on top of him.

“You’re right. This is fun,” he laughs.

When you get close, he transfers the remote to his other hand so you shift yourself but lose your balance, landing back on the still-on vibrator. You shriek and Benny laughs at you. He turns the setting to the highest as you try to get away from it in your awkward position.

"Benny! You can't just go from 1 to 100 instant—" You finally roll off of it and give yourself a moment. With your eyes closed and teeth digging hard into your lower plump lip, you try to get yourself together.

“Are- are you okay?” Benny asks as his laugh dwindles. “Did you have an orgasm or something?” he jokes.

“No…” you start. “But maybe I almost did - maybe!”

His laugh finally dies, but a smirk remains on his face.

“Seriously?!” His eyes grow wide, turning his body towards you.

“That toy is no joke,” you point to it still wriggling on the couch. “And now I really wanna know what it can do.”

Benny shuts it off and his eyes shuttle between the toy and you.

“Uh… like, now?” He questions.

You stare at him for a few seconds, contemplating.

“That would be weird, right?” You ask with a squinted eye. “Never mind, forget it—”

“Have at it,” Benny interrupts. “Now I wanna see what this thing can do, too.”

“Really?” You ask with a raised brow, surprised.

“Yeah, like you said, what else is there to do? For science!” He brings up his beer bottle to celebrate it.

“Dork,” you chuckle, snatching the toy.

“Also, maybe I can learn a thing or two from it,” he replies. “Not that I need any help in that department, but I’m always open to learning new things,” he adds.

You roll your eyes.

“Hey, I’m a fighter and a lover. And I’m great at both,” he winks.

“Are you done stroking your own ego?” You look at him, unimpressed.

“I’m sorry. Yes, you can go on to stroke yourself,” he answers, trying to keep a straight face but ends up cracking a smirk.

“You’re so dumb,” you roll your eyes again and try not to crack your own.

“But I gotta be the one in control.” He holds up the remote in his hand.

“Benny-“

“I may never have the opportunity to ever do this again,” he says. “Besides, isn’t it what makes this fun? Someone else controlling it?”

You stare back at him and think about it.

“Okay, fine, but-“ you point a finger at him.

“I promise I won’t go from zero to 100, okay? Scout’s honor.” Benny brings his three middle fingers up.

“You weren’t a boy scout,” you point out.

“Fuck you. I was one for like a month,” he corrects you. “So are we doing this or what?”

“Turn around,” you tell him.

“What? I can’t watch?”

“Not watch me put this on. Turn around,” you repeat.

He rolls his eyes and turns his whole body around so the back of his head is facing you. You keep an eye on him as you wrangle your jeans and slip the toy inside you until it fits snug. Benny takes a sip of his beer as he waits patiently. He hears you fumbling around and finally you tell him he can turn back around.

He turns to face you and he looks confused.

“What?” You ask him.

“You have it on? Under your jeans?”

“Yes. I wasn’t gonna let it all hang out willy-nilly,” you tell him. “If you don’t believe me, turn it—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Benny flips the switch and you seize up. He can’t hear it, but your reaction confirms you have it in. He watches you as you stay still and quiet for a few moments.

“Can I up the speed?” He asks.

“Is this the lowest setting?” You calmly shoot back.

“Uh, yeah I think so.” He looks down at the remote to see if there’s any indication.

“Okay, go up one notch. One!” You glare at him.

“Okay, here we go.” He turns it up and you twitch.

You start shifting around in your seat until you feel the vibrator is in optimal position.

“How many speeds does this thing have again?” You ask out loud, reaching for the instruction manual and scanning it. “TEN?”

“Well, here’s number three,” Benny says as he ups the speed.

“Ben— ohhhhh…” Your scolding got cut short when the vibrator starts to really hit the right spots.

The tip of the dildo part tickles your g-spot as the outer part flickers over your clit. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip, trying to concentrate and keep your composure.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you mumble.

“Uh… how are you doing?” He asks, not sure what else to do.

“I’m… “ you freeze up for a quick second and then relax, letting out a heavy breath. “Jeeeesus,” you hiss.

Benny remains quiet as he watches you slightly gyrate against the couch. You close your legs together and cross your knees, trying to recalibrate yourself for the ideal position. He notices your breathing has gotten heavier.

“Higher?” He asks quietly, afraid to interrupt your flow.

“I’m already slipping all around,” you answer without opening your eyes, almost forgetting you aren’t alone.

“That’s not a no…” he points out.

Your teeth digs even deeper into your lower lip as you contemplate whether you want to chase your impending orgasm or not. You hate that at the current setting, it’s only enough to edge you and need a bit more to get you over the top.

“Okay,” you finally say. “Do it.”

Benny takes it to number four and you yelp instantly.

"Oh my god," you start giggling. "This is fucking crazy!"

Your thighs tightly clamp together and your back arches off the couch. You throw your head back as your jaw drops open, letting out a silent scream. Your hips rock against the vibrator, trying to get to the finish line.

"I'm not gonna lie. This is getting me hard."

You open your eyes and glance over at him to see him palming the front of his jeans and rubbing himself through the denim as he watches you trying not to lose your shit.

“How close are you?" he asks.

You feel your face get really warm all of a sudden. His baby blues pierce your eyes and you're suddenly feeling more vulnerable than you already are, like you just got caught doing something you shouldn't be doing, but at the same time, it’s kinda hot seeing Benny turned on watching you to the point where he’s quasi-touching himself. Noticing your state of shock, he amps up the vibration and you let out an uncontrolled moan.

"Oh, fuck!“

Your hips buck off the couch as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. You continue to moan as you ride the wave and try to catch the next one, grinding down on the couch. You don’t even care how silly you might look to Ben right now. All your focus is what’s going on between your legs. Suddenly the vibrator gets stronger again.

“Ben, stop! It’s too much!” You shriek.

You’re relieved when the torture stops, but it also feels odd as you feel the residual buzzing between your legs.

“So… how was it?” Benny breaks the silence. “Was it all your hopes and dreams?”

You take a moment to yourself to process the experience before answering.

“This shit is… I don’t think I ever want to experience the highest setting on this thing,” you tell him. “This thing is like a torture device. It feels like I pissed myself.”

You turn to look at him as you catch your breath and you’re reminded that Benny’s having his own fun with this, bringing you back down to earth. He scoots a bit closer to you with his hand still over his crotch. This new tension is clearly mutually felt as you both stare at each other, waiting for the other person to say or do something first. Your eyes ping pong between his face and his crotch, which he is still lazily rubbing.

“So uh… what now?” Benny asks, licking his lips. “Round two?” he brings up the remote still in his hand.

“N-no! No, no! Don’t you dare-“ you reach for the remote again, but he pulls it back behind him.

You chase after it, lunging towards him and end up getting right in his face.

“Benny!” You try again, but pause when you catch him staring at you, his face no more than a few inches away from yours.

It may be the post-orgasm bliss or the awkward position you both found yourselves in, but you’ve never noticed how easy on the eyes your best friend is. He swallows hard as his eyes scan your face.

“Can… can I kiss you?" he asks suddenly, leaning in and nudging your nose with his, testing the boundaries.

You lick your dry lips and swallow as you glance down at his mouth, seeing it slowly closing the distance. He ghosts his lips over yours, stopping short of actually putting it on yours, waiting for your permission. You answer his question by closing the gap, slotting your mouth over his.

He kisses back, gently at first, matching your energy. When you slip your tongue into his mouth, he cups your face and returns the gesture. You’re both now devouring each other as he turns his body towards you to get into a more comfortable position, adjusting himself to accommodate the bulge in his jeans.

You both continue to make out with more urgency. Benny’s hands start cautiously exploring your body, placing a hand on your waist at first. It wanders down to your hip and he gives it a squeeze. Your own hands start roaming Benny’s body, touching his hard chest first. His warmth is welcoming, making you twist your body and lean into him. Feeling bold, Benny’s hand wanders to your thigh, his fingers brushing the inside, but far from your wet patch.

“Can I touch you down there?” He mumbles between kisses while moving his mouth to the side of your face and down your neck.

“Wha-“ You let out a loud sigh when you feel his soft wet tongue on the side of your neck, shivering when he grazes a sensitive spot.

“Can I touch you down there?” Ben repeats, pulling back, his lust-filled eyes looking down into yours.

His fingers barely scrapes your inner thigh, but you feel the jolt of his touch travel up to where the vibrator is still sitting.

“Please?” He squeaks out as his fingers travel up higher and his breathing gets heavier, matching yours.

Even though the vibrator isn’t on, it still brushes against your clit every time you shift and it’s only making you want Benny more, to help you get some relief. Even though you’ve already cum, you are hornier than ever right now.

You simply nod before capturing his mouth again. You moan into his mouth when you feel his hand cupping you, rubbing small slow circles with his fingers. Your hips twitch when he drags his middle finger up and down the thick seam of your pants that’s pressing directly down the center of the outer part of the vibrator which is sitting directly on your clit. He’s barely putting any pressure, but you’re hypersensitive right now and it feels like torture.

Now impatient, you start undoing your pants, trying to quickly get them off. You break the kiss to take a few seconds to focus on ridding your jeans. Benny watches you as he palms himself again, touching himself like he did with you. When you finally get your jeans off, tossing it over the couch, you reach into your underwear to remove the bane of your current existence - the vibrator. Without much effort, the vibrator basically falls out of you. It is drenched in your arousal, a thin sticky string still connects you to it.

It made an audible noise when it slipped out of you, as did Benny. Before you can discard the very used toy, Benny’s hand is back on you, his fingertips teasing the band of your underwear. He keeps dipping further and discovers how slick you really are.

"Jeeeeesus Christ, you weren't kidding. That shit got you so fucking wet," he comments while teasing your opening, slowly dipping his fingertip in, putting light pressure against it but it took no effort to penetrate you.

An audible squelch can be heard when he enters a second finger. You moan, feeling his thick fingers filling you and stroking you inside. He’s definitely reaching places the vibrator couldn’t. He hums watching your face distort when he pushes in further.

Your hand grips his strong forearm, feeling his veins raised and his muscles flexing underneath your palms as he pumps his long fingers in and out of you. The tip of his tongue darts out and licks the corner by his upper lip as he starts curling his fingers up, reaching for that soft spongy spot at the roof of your vagina. Your legs open up wider for him as his fingertips rub your g-spot over and over again. Your senses are heightened watching him watching you with darkened eyes. His thumb starts rubbing your clit as he massages your g-spot and it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to peak. You rock your hips against his fingers as your muscles continually clench and release over his fingers.

"Holy sh-shit," you tremble, feeling the aftershocks.

He pulls his fingers out, dragging them over your clit along the way, making your body twitch at the sensitivity.

“I think I made you cum faster than that toy did,” he jokes.

You crack a half smile but you don’t have the brain power to conjure up a verbal response. After a shared moment, he leans in to give you a quick peck on your lips. As he gets up off the couch, Benny takes his cap off to adjust the position of it, switching it backwards before settling between your legs.

The front of your thin cotton panties are completely drenched through. He can see your outline as the damp fabric clings to your puffy lips.

“Can I taste you?”

His puppy eyes peek up from between your legs. Your brain is mush so you simply nod.

He bunches the top of your underwear in his hand and yanks it up, causing it to brush across your clit. Your hips twitch and as he continues to rub the fabric over you, seeing your reaction to it and drawing out the tease. You moan and gyrate your hips when he puts his mouth between your legs over your underwear. He laps up your juices, licking and sucking as he continues to tug at your panties taut against your dripping cunt, putting pressure on your sensitive nub.

"Ben…" you pant as you push his cap off and run your fingers through his messy dirty blonde hair.

His scruff brushes the insides of your thigh as he continues to eat you out. You gasp when you feel the tip of his tongue breaching your opening, forcing your underwear aside and exposing your core. He puts more pressure with his tongue, slipping in deeper inside you and tasting you. Your hips start rocking against his face, but his tongue can only go so far. He shifts his attention to the swollen bud a little higher, scrunching your panties aside. He circles your clit with the tip before pressing the flat of his tongue and then his mouth over it, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks hard. Your thighs clamp around his head and his eyes focus on your face as his tongue continues to play your clit like a fiddle. He grips your hips and holds you down.

“F-fuck…” your breathing becomes irregular as your orgasm builds.

With his mouth still attached to you, he slips his finger inside you to try to find that spot again. You thrust against his face when you feel your third release breaching. Benny intensifies his sucking and fingering, feeling you clench around him. You cry out when the dam breaks and you convulse around him. He doesn’t stop until you still. As you’re coming down from your high, body slouched from being spent, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean.

“So you wanna try that other toy now to see how it compares to the real thing?” He asks as he stands up and wipes his mouth.

He was right about him not needing any help in the bedroom department. You can barely form words right now. Never in a million years would you think your best friend can eat pussy like an expert. Taking from his brother who he regularly competes with, he always strives to be the best in everything he does, but this is on a whole different level. And now he wants to use another toy on you? You don’t think anything can top what he just did to you.

"W-what?" you ask cluelessly, still recovering the most mind blowing oral sex you have ever received.

Your eyes follow him as he reaches for the suction toy to show you. He tries to figure out how to turn it on as he kneels down, returning between your legs.

"You gotta help me out here--"

He's suddenly interrupted when you grab his face and smash your lips against his, tasting yourself. He abandons the toy somewhere and moves up to the couch next to you. You reposition yourself to straddle his lap as you continue to make out. As your hands wander down to the buttons of his jeans, he grabs your ass, squeezing them in his large hands.

When you successfully get his jeans undone, he lifts his hips and helps you pull down his bottoms until he springs free. You look down and reach for his thick cock, warm and soft to the touch. You jerk him as he’s already hard as a rock. Your thumb brushes the underside of his head.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

Now it’s your turn to torture him. You slide off his lap and on to the floor, kneeling between his knees. Once in a comfortable position, you grab his length, licking a trail from the base to the tip, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When you get to the top, you wrap your lips around him, wetting the head a bit before inching down to taste the rest of him. Your tongue swirls around his smooth and salty skin, lubricating him as you bob up and down.

“Shhhhit…” He throws his head back against the couch.

Feeling frisky, you try to deep throat him and he grasps within arms reach whatever he can as he groans. He looks over when a hand grabs something unfamiliar to him. It’s the vibrator and an idea comes to his mind.

“Wait,” he reluctantly stops you.

You pause and see him holding up the vibrator.

“Put this on while you suck me. I think it’ll be fun.”

You look at the vibrator for a moment and then back at him.

“I promise I won’t put it so high,” he reassures you.

“Fine,” you agree and you take it from him and slip it inside you, orienting it the right way. “You try anything and I’ll bite your dick off,” you warn, drawing a small chuckle out of Ben.

You get back into the position you were in before and put your mouth back on him. As you go back to sucking him, you yelp when Benny turns the vibrator on at a low speed. The noise you made sent a delightful vibration down his cock, making it twitch. He turns it up a notch and your hips move against the vibrator. You start moving up and down on him a little faster, stroking the base where your mouth can’t reach. You deepthroat him again until you gag, but you keep on going, sending your spit dripping down his cock and lubing him up.

“You look so fucking hot,” Benny pants.

His breathing is getting more labored. His hips jerk up and he places a hand on the back of your head. He’s not putting any pressure, but he fists your hair. He doesn’t pull on it, just moves with you as you fuck him with your mouth. You start quickening your pace feeling the vibrator getting stronger, trying to match it. Feeling the beginning of an orgasm forming, you rock your hips and suck him harder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns you.

Not changing your rhythm, you watch him come undone as he pops in your mouth. He thrust into your face as his moans echo in the small space and grasps the remote in his hand, accidentally jumping it up another level, but it’s what you needed to push you over the edge. You grind against the toy as you moan with him still deep inside your mouth. He spills out of the corner of your mouth as his hips slow down.

When he stills, you suck him clean and swallow the load that remained in your mouth. You reach down to pull the vibrator off and toss it onto his lap. Benny jumps in his seat and shuts it off. You wipe the corner of your mouth and chin with the back of your hand as you get up off your knees. He looks back at you with tired eyes as he tries to catch his breath, cock twitching. You squeal when he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his lap, careful with his half hard cock. You straddle his lap and he kisses you, his tongue thrusting into your mouth, tasting a bit of himself. The two of you lazily make out for a bit until Benny pulls back. You lick your lips and smile, looking down at him.

“We should start making this a regular thing, ya know. The toy testing,” Benny suggests, breaking the awkward silence and lightening the mood.

“Well, I do have a dildo I haven’t tried yet,” you half-joke.

He looks back at you with narrow eyes.

“You’re not putting that in my ass,” he states.

“Not what I was thinking,” you chuckle as you shake your head. “I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to be double penetrated,” you explain.

Benny stares at you with a blank expression, but you see his semi twitch in your peripheral.

“Gi-give me maybe fifteen minutes—“ he finally says, pointing to his softening cock.

“Whoa! Hold it there, cowboy,” you stop him. “Why don’t we just think on that? Besides, I don’t have any condoms or lube for that to happen.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure,” he shrugs. “I-I had a good time, if that’s what you were wonder—“

You silence him with a tender kiss before grabbing the vibrator to remove the batteries and toss them at him.

“I’m gonna clean up. Why don’t you put the fight on? I think It’s starting soon,” you tell him as you dismount him and grab your jeans off the floor while Benny pulls his bottoms back up.

“Look what the guys missed out on. Coulda had an orgy,” you joke.

“If everyone showed up, we’d be at a bar,” he points out, then swishes some beer inside his mouth.

“Fair. Okay, a Miller sandwich then,” you switch it up.

Benny chokes on his beer.

“Kidding!” You chuckle awkwardly. “Kinda. Sorry, you probably don’t wanna think about you and your brother fucking the same person at the same time,” you snort before finally heading to the bathroom.

When you get back, you find Benny putting his phone away and relaxing on the couch like he was before any of the sexy stuff had happened, with the TV on. The awkwardness returns. He hands you your beer as you sit down next to him, settling in. You both quietly watch the fight as it starts, but you steal glances at each other every now and then. At one point, you do a double take.

“Dude, are you smelling your fingers?” You look at him incredulously.

“What? I washed them, but I can still smell you.”

You grimace at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. You smell good,” he shrugs. “It’s actually getting me hard again.”

You watch him adjust himself. The both of you stare each other down, trying to read each other until a knock on your door breaks the trance.

“Who the hell is that?” You ask, but Benny shrugs.

You get up to open the door and find the other Miller brother on the other side.

“Hey, sorry I’m late! I had trouble finding parking. Did the fight start already?”

You look back at him confused.

“Uh… are you gonna let me in?” Will asks. “I brought goodies.” He shows the case of beer and grocery store bag in his hand with a party sized bag of chips peeking out.

“Sorry, I just thought you weren’t coming,” you tell him while letting him in.

“I texted Benny telling him plans changed last minute. Did he not get it?”

“Uh, I-I don’t know. He didn’t tell me anything.” You lead him into the living room where Benny almost looks surprised.

“Did you not tell her I’m coming?” Will asks his brother.

“Oh, sorry, forgot. I was uh, a little preoccupied,” he apologizes.

Will looks at both you and Benny suspiciously.

“It smells… interesting in here,” he comments, his eyebrows furrow with curiosity.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry Will. Let me take that from you.” You quickly change the subject, taking the bag and beer out of his hands.

“Wait-” Will starts.

“Get comfy. I’ll bring you back a cold beer,” you tell him before whisking away.

You stick the beer in the fridge and when you remove the party sized tortillas to pour some into a bowl, you notice some unexpected items in the bag. You take them out for a closer inspection and your eyes widen at the bottle of lube and a box of condoms. Maybe he bought these before his initial plans got changed.

You shrug, throw them back into the bag and return to the living room with a bowl of chips, cold beer and the grocery bag of personal items. When you walk into the living room, the brothers turn their attention to you, eyeing you like they’re expecting something other than the beer and chips. You look back at them suspiciously as they’re both very laxed and spread out on the couch on each end, leaving a space for you in between. As you walk over and settle in next to them, their gaze follows you.

“Here Will, I think these are yours,” you hand him a beer and his bag of items.

He takes them from you as he smirks.

“Thanks. So,” Will turns his body towards you. “Benny tells me you’re curious about some DP action.”

You almost drop the bowl of chips in your hands. Will is usually very reserved and diplomatic so you’re a bit shocked at how straight forward he is right now. You glare at your best friend who shrugs helplessly.

“I had to tell him what he missed out on.”

You glower your eyes at Benny, but then put two and two together, your focus now bouncing between the two brothers and realize that no one is probably going to watch this fight tonight.

#benny miller #triple frontier #benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x female reader #benny miller x f! reader #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #triple frontier fanfiction #bff to lovers

360 notes · View notes

leesjuicycalves · 2 months

Text

*Isn't he lovely?

As the first light of dawn seeped through the curtains of your room, illuminating a soft melancholic glow in it you shifted under the covers dreading on why you hadn’t draped them the previous night. The light was the last thing you wanted to see, really! Groaning in irritation and exhaustion you decided against your desires and left the bed in a freakishly slow pace only to be met with dizziness and drowsiness, the weight of your own body pulling you right back in bed as you fell with a soft thud. Okay, maybe having four bottles of beer alone in your dark room before bed wasn’t a good idea. With shaky hands you reach out for the glass of water that is dangerously sitting on your nightstand to parch your dry throat. Your body doesn’t give you a break even then, your head pounding hard like a relentless drumbeat. Yeah, drinking before bed was really not a smart idea. Well your month ago self would have told you that, but you caged her in. The current you doesn’t give a shit about the consequences of your actions and is sure you are gonna do the same again tonight, just like you’ve been doing for the past weeks. You lazily drag yourself downstairs kicking away the empty bottles of beer scattered on the floor so you can try and have breakfast. Keyword, try. Nothing tastes good to you anymore, nothing but beer and your little fried cashew nuts. That’s what you’ve been living on for the past month. Even as you scan your kitchen for something healthier, your hands automatically grab the last bag of cashews you have left and a bottle of beer in the fridge and you head over to the couch. Where you’ll be spending your day and then head right back upstairs to finish the last few bottles of beer you have.

There’s a crappy show playing on your TV that you don’t even remember playing the previous night, a woman, probably the main character, smiling to herself yapping something in her monologue about being content that she’s glad she has someone who could care for her, love her and cherish her. To be cared for, you didn’t know how that felt.

When the year began you thought you’d have your life fully under control. No storms, no emotional outbursts, just a smooth life and probably a happy one too. It begun like that actually, it began with you finding love, finding someone that could understand you. Having Minho in your life was as great as you’d have imagined; he was sweet, kind, hot and sexy. Basically the type of guys you were into. You had everything under control as the year began, smooth sailing and all, with Minho by your side. But then you started to feel overwhelmed, falling victim under the suffocating weight of expectations and obligations particularly from your mother who seemed to be short of lacking criticism in any sort of thing. She always had something to complain about, something to observe and put in her views and perspectives. One day it would be about how you don’t call them often anymore, or how you’ve been too much in social media; with the posts your uploading instead of working, and on the days she had that ‘mother attitude’ it would be to comment on how your boyfriend looks more like a fuckboy rather than a life partner and how you take care of him and the strangers in the city more than them.

But you did take care of them, you really did. From the day you got your first salary, your first paycheck. Heck you’ve been taking care of them ever since you realized how far your roles of the eldest daughter go. You always listened when she complained about how her business is not doing okay, about how she’s running low on sales stocks and about how stingy her husband is. Always listened when she said she had no sister figure in her life to share stuff with but now she can do that with her daughter. Always listened when she talked about how well your sisters were doing in college and high school. Always listened when she made comments on how fat or thin you’ve gotten. You always listened. Your dad, you were close with each other, had nothing much to complain about him. He was just an over achiever and too much of a planner perfectionist.

“You should have stayed back here Y/N instead of going to the city. That spot in that law firm my friend once offered me is still free. You could make a lot out of it, there’s nothing serious out there if you ask me. This was a sure bet job sweetie.” He had said one day through a phone call that was supposed to be you telling him the exciting news of how you won your first case in a while. He was the kind of person that always wanted things to go according to his plans.

Your sisters would call you day in and out, talking about their days in school. Saying how they wished they had so and so, how mom and dad are still as stingy as ever since you moved away from home. How their allowances got reduced. How they wished they were you and had the freedom to do whatever they wanted.

But did you even want to be you at this point? Everything was beginning to feel like it was too much, too little, not right. Maybe your dad was right, you should have stayed back with them and taken the offer he had given you since there were no more job offers for you that seemed to be coming up. Maybe your mom was also right, you don’t take care of them enough, you have to do more, you have to be more.

But when would they listen to you, when would they stand by what you chose for once, when would they appreciate what you’ve already done or at least tried to do even if it was just a little bit? When would they also listen to what you have to say? When would they take care of you in that way?

Sure you had Minho but he was also a man of his own before you, he also had a family that needed him, he also had stuff going on. You weren’t his 24 hour responsibility. Knowing how this overwhelming feeling felt made you not wanna dump it on someone else, you’d rather handle it on your own just as you’ve always done. And that’s exactly what you’ve been doing for the past month, handling your situation. You had had blacklisted your parents and sisters not wanting to hear from them anymore, just for the while, until you got your shit back together. Hidden yourself from the world since you basically hadn’t picked any calls from your friends or even Minho, not gone outside for the past weeks, not breathed in that fresh cool air from outside. You were under house arrest, by your own will. The only logical way for you to handle your situation.

The silence in your room strings you away from your thoughts, the TV is dead silent and the lights in the kitchen were off. Maybe there was a power surge or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t paid this month’s electricity bill. You couldn’t care less anyways since you found the dark way more comforting these days.

Your cashews are done, there’s nothing left in the package. Your beer is halfway done too and you have to pee but you don’t feel like getting up from the comfortable position you’re in on the couch. “Guess I’ll just have to if I don’t wanna ruin my couch,” again you move at a really slow pace heading for the bathroom to ease yourself.

“Darn it with the fucking lights,” is the first thing that slips from your mouth when you walk down the hallway back to the living room. You hear clanking noises coming from the kitchen and you are slightly shocked to find Minho standing in front of your kitchen sink wearing your lavender apron and doing you’re two weeks old or so dishes. He seemed to be too immersed in whatever he was doing to even notice your disheveled-self standing there, you take a quick glance at yourself and realize how pathetic you look in your baggy blue sweats, your stained t shirt and your tangled up dry and obviously dirty hair. You clear your throat in a low but audible voice and Minho turns to look at you only after he’s finished the washing the last dish in the sink. He stares at you for a whole minute without saying anything, the two of you awkwardly standing there in the kitchen area. He blinks once, twice, thrice then a couple of more times under the long bangs of his hair and mutters a hello which you return with a curt nod. He turns away from you and proceeds to move about in the kitchen. ‘It’s been that long?’ You think to yourself, you stare back at Minho. He grew his hair out, you’ve been away for so fucking long that he grew his hair out. You retrieve your eyes from him and decide to go back to the couch seeing that you had nothing to say to each other.

He cleaned the living room coffee table, in that short amount of time you went to the bathroom, he cleaned it all. The beer you had left earlier was no longer there and your empty nut bag was gone. You glance over at Minho in the kitchen and sigh, maybe the TV is working now that the lights are back on. You scroll the available channels and decide to stop at one that has its program read; Just for Laughs but youre too lost in youre thoughts once again to concentrate on what’s playing. Minho probably thinks you’re a loser, he probably thinks youre a burden. A dirty lazy burden that he has for a girlfriend who can’t even take care of herself alone. He probably wants to end things, you don’t deserve him. He needs better, he needs someone who can handle their shit in a mature way. You look down at your stained shirt once again and sigh. He definitely deserves better than this, better than you. You know you’ve inconvenienced his schedule by making him be here, he had better, important things to do. Why is he here in the first place?

Before your thoughts go on any further, you feel a presence loom over you and a delicious smell of freshly made food hits your nostrils.

“Eat this, you need it.” Minho says in a stern but soft voice handing you the bowl.

You don’t look up at him because you’re afraid you’ll cry when you do, so you just keep staring at your feet and shake your head no. You hear him sigh and it just makes your thoughts spiral the more. You see his feet move about and the in the next minute he is sitting on the floor and looking at you from below. You turn away quickly but not quick enough as he pulls your chin to face him again with a spoonful of his homemade meal in front of your mouth, he gives you a stern look and you have no choice but to open your mouth and take what he gives you. The both of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, the room only filled with the sound of you chewing and swallowing and the sounds of the spoon hitting the glass bowl every time Minho scoops another portion until you’ve completely emptied the bowl. He then gets up to get you glass of water and disappears upstairs leaving you alone with your thoughts again.

“Did you shower today?” Minho asks when he comes back down stairs a little sweat dripping from his forehead, is long bangs sticking to it and a plastic bag in his hands filled with your empty beer bottles. You timidly shake your head embarrassed of your state. He makes haste to dispose the bag and comes right back inside to lead you up to you room.

“I can bathe myself,” is what you tell Minho when you see him take his clothes off.

“I need a shower too. Am all sweaty from cleaning those smelly beer bottles,” he says, with no malice or disgust really, just a plain comment but you wince at that statement and only hum taking off your dirty outfit. You turn your back on him hoping he’s not looking at you. You’ve lost weight, your collar bone is more prominent, you don’t want him to see you like that he might get more disgusted; you think. You very slowly slide your sweats off your legs and squat by your bed to fold it even though it’s going in the hamper. Minho is still shuffling around the room probably putting a towel on. You want him to take a shower first and leave you alone in the bathroom to probably cry out the tears you’ve been holding back ever since he came to you today but he has other plans.

He comes right behind you and snatches the piece of clothing that is neatly folded and sitting still on your bed with your shaky fingers still pressing over it. He throws it into the hamper beside him.

“That’s no use, get up,” and you do while trying to cover up you’re naked self with the knee length towel you have on but Minho tosses it on the bed seeing no use of keeping it on. You both make it into the bathroom where the beautiful scent of lavender and vanilla engulfs your senses, the room aglow with soft candlelight casting and flickering shadows on the wall making it feel like a sanctuary of relaxation. You turn to face Minho who smiles at you softly and gestures you to step into the bathtub adorned with radiant jasmine petals floating delicately on the bubbled water. You sink into the lukewarm water and your shoulders instantly relax, you close your eyes and sigh in ease feeling a wave of tranquility wash over you. Something you haven’t felt in days. Minho lovingly stares at you by the bathroom door his eyes shimmering with happiness to see you at ease, his heart filling with satisfaction and pride. Your eyes shoot open when you feel the water move and Minho sits in front of you, his hands search yours under the water and he holds them tight fearing he might lose you if he lets go. His feline eyes stare into your soul telling you in every way how he missed you and how he loves you more than he has ever done anyone in his lifetime. His eyes tell you how important you are too him and how he wouldn’t know how to move on without you in his life, his touch speaks multitude of the depth of affection he has for you, the security he’s willing to offer you, that you crave for.

And you cage, completely crashing. Tears begin to violently flow from your eyes as tiny sobs escape your lips mumbling bits of ‘am sorry’ and ‘thank yous’ to him but he doesn’t let you cry quickly pressing his forehead onto yours as his thumbs wipe away the tears from your cheeks.

“No matter what, I’ll always be here. Waiting to take care of you to cherish you and keep you safe. I’ll carry your burdens for you no matter what, mmh?” He tells you softly and you can feel the truth in his voice, the firmness and dedication of his words. You cry harder, full on weeping on his bare chest and this time he decides to let you do so rubbing soothing circles on your back and gently stroking your hair occasionally pouring water on your back with the small of his hand. And after you’re done crying he kisses you so sweetly, so softly, as if you were a glass doll that would break if he were to press harder on your lips. He kisses the overwhelming feelings away, he kisses the stress away and erases the weight of the world, your worries and your fears. His kiss is another reassuring promise of comfort in the midst of your chaos. His lips brush against yours and the world seems to be on pause, there’s nothing more you feel at the moment apart from him, his warmth, his soft touch, his love.

Minho pulls you closer to him so that you are fully sitting on his lap under the jasmine bubbles, youre lips detach from his and he pecks your nose and flashes you a smile showing his two front bunny teeth and you mirror his smile feeling like a whole new person. He suddenly stands with you still in his arms but his grip on your thighs tighter than before and steps out of the tub whilst peppering soft kisses on all over your face eliciting giggles from you.

“Min, we’re wet don’t-” you try to protest as he lays you on your bed not willing to part his lips from your body.

“I missed you so much, let me take care of you,” he says in a husky voice his lips trailing lower and stopping at the bridge of your breasts to look up at you and you now see how his eyes are brazen with lust. Seeing that you had no oppositions to his current actions he went ahead and took one of your breasts in his mouth sucking and kissing all over, his front teeth lightly nibbling on your hardened nipple. His other hand delicately pinching your other nipple twisting and turning it between his thumb and index finger. His touch made you quite sensitive since it truly had been long since you felt him in this sense. You don’t get much time to relish in the feeling of his lips on your breasts as you feel his tongue glide past your tummy and stop just on top of your waist.

“So pretty,” he coos as his fingers spread your slick wet folds flicking at it now and then.

“M-min,” you breath out not really knowing what you want him to do, your brain completely fuzzy with lust and desires. But he knows exactly what you need and he gives you that. His tongues delves right into your leaking cunt and he licks and sucks like a starved man, which in true sense he was. Not being able to hear from you or see you for an entire month had made him worried sick out of his mind, he had missed you, had missed every aspect of you. And now that he had you, he would show you, he would make you feel how he’d missed you so much.

“So sweet love, so fucking sweet,” he mumbles against you and you cum instantly with a loud cry of his name, but that doesn’t make him stop. Minho continues to lap at your folds taking in every drop of your release making you squirm above him as you try to push his head away. “Sens-sensitive Minho. Mmmh,” you cry out and he only looks up when he’s sure he is done and had enough of you, for now.

“I love you, so much.” He speaks against your lips and kisses them more fervently tongue gliding over your lip asking for entrance and as soon you grant him that, he sucks on your tongue even harder. His hands don’t stay in one place, roaming your body, groping any piece of flesh that is able to fit in his hand. He has his hand on your breasts, your thighs, your tummy and your ass. Your hands too caress his soft firm chest and back, gripping the hairs on the back of his neck each time he sucks on your lips and tongue. They glide all over his body then your fingertips brush past his tip and he winces biting your tongue and the sound you make after that makes him harder than he already was.

“Baby, I need you. Fucking now,”

“Me too Min, please,” you say in a desperate whine now fully grabbing at the base of his crotch.

Minho was definitely gonna show you how much he missed you, savor every part of you, make you feel what you really were to him. Special and important, and he wanted to make sure that by the end of it all you knew. He quickly turned so that now you were above him, your folds grazing his thick pink leaking tip. As you were about to lower yourself on his waiting dick he spun you around so that your ass was facing him and you were directly looking into the floor length mirror in front of your bed.

“Min-Minho, lemme look at you. I wanna see you,” you say hesitantly as you try to get back to your previous position but Minho pushes you down and the tip of his shaft pokes at your hole. “F-fuck!”

“I want you to see how pretty you are and how you deserve to be taken care of. You need to see how I take care of you,” he says so calmly as if he isn’t sinking his cock into your tight wet cunt. You mewl at his words and grip on his thick thighs as he slides you down further into his cock, his gaze is intent on the scene before him. Your body is jerked forward so that your back is slightly arching and Minho gets a first row sit to how you are taking him so well.

“Fuck, youre so fucking tight,” he grunts as youre now completely on top of him. You on the other hand are struggling between keeping your vision away from the mirror and not screaming at the fullness of Minho. He then pulls you back softly by the back of your neck and you lay your head on his shoulder, mouth hanging open groaning in pure pleasure.

“Baby, open your eyes for me,” he coos right against your ears and you have no choice but to do so, you are met with the erotic sight of your naked body against his, his hands holding both your breasts and squeezing them promptly each time he thrusted into you.

“You….are perfect…and deserve to be taken care of,” he thrusts into you with a grunt, “You deserve the whole world and back and I’ll give you all that baby” he thrusts harder than the last time and you mewl biting your lower lip. His left hand leaves your breasts and comes to gently caress your folds.

“Let me hear you baby.” You moan out his name the minute he lightly pinches your clit and that encourages him to rub faster and thrust harder. With his right hand playing with your nipple, his left hand rubbing at your folds and his dick hitting all the right places in you there was no way you could last long and so you cum harder than you think you’ve ever done when with him. You come calling out his name and he encourages you to finish, still drawing circles at your lower lips, with little praises of ‘you did well’ and ‘you’re perfect’. He also immediately releases into you biting into the side of your neck then falling back on the bed with you still on top of him, he still holds you, embracing you and the moment you just shared.

He later carries you back to the bathroom and washes both of you off. He has you back to your old self again, giggling like a teenage girl that just discovered their first love. You are grateful for him, you really are and maybe you could handle things in a better way. You could handle your problems with Minho. He was the one to listen to you, to take care of you just as you did for everyone else. He was the one to make you feel like you were enough and so much more.

As you lay in your bed both cuddling against each other comfortable in each other’s warmth, Minho promises again to be there for you and to take care of you and you promise to tell him when it gets too much so you can get through it together.

“Minho,” you call him as sweetly as he would you.

“Mmmmh,”

“I love you more.”

#stray kids #skz imagines #stray kids x you #skz x y/n #lee know x y/n #lee know x reader #lee know smut #indie thoughts

78 notes · View notes

destinationtoast · 1 year

Text

Toastystats: F/F, F/M, and M/M on AO3

I'm starting to post my deep dive stats that started out as me looking into "F/F vs. M/M on AO3" -- it has turned out to be really useful and interesting to include F/M in most of these analyses (I'd like to also look more at other categories eventually; see further discussion about nonbinary characters). Here are some of the topics I'll be covering: Length, Ratings & Smut, Dark content, Tags & tropes, Growth rate, and Case studies of parallel-ish ships of different genders.

You can read the intro & fanwork length chapter now, and more will be posted soon! You can also listen to me discuss a bunch of the data on the latest @fansplaining episode, Femstats February.

Below are some excerpts of the fanwork length chapter -- but please click through to AO3 for elaboration/clarification/corrections, as well as for descriptions of the images.

---

(Terminology: "F/F-focused" means I filtered out every other relationship category else except "Gen," so as to remove ambiguity, and similar for F/M- and M/M-focused.)

A few observations:

These breakdowns are a lot more similar than I’d expected. There are differences, but they’re not overwhelming. It’s not like F/F is mostly just drabbles.

F/F does have the highest proportion of short fic, followed by F/M, and then M/M...

But the long fic end of the scale isn’t what I expected at all! M/M is the least likely to have works over 50K words (this graph doesn't actually show the decimal points due to lack of space, but M/M only has 2.0% of its works above 50K words, while F/F has 2.4% over 50K). And F/M is the most likely to have [works over 50K words]!

....Next, I wanted to look at reader response to long fic.... First, let's look at the word count breakdown for the works with the most kudos...:

We can see that, probably unsurprisingly, many of the works that receive the most kudos are long -- but I was surprised how strong that bias is. Nearly half of these popular works in the F/F and F/M categories are over 50K+ words (I -- or someone else -- should follow up by further subdividing the "over 50K" category, but I haven't done so yet; for now I only used the same word count buckets that I used previously.). Surprising to me is that M/M has a lot more shorter works that get a lot of kudos; only around 1/3 of the M/M works with the most kudos have over 50K words. I'd be curious to hear any theories about why this is.

....Okay, so lots of popular fic is long -- not too surprising. But now let's flip things around. instead of looking at how long popular fic is, let's look at how much reader feedback long fic gets, and see if any category clearly gets the most or least feedback.

For this, I took a very specific slide of [long fic]: works 100K words to 101K words long. I did that because I wanted to compare long fic of the same length across the different categories. But these specific numbers are therefore not accurate for most definitions of "long fic," and should not be taken too seriously -- hence the asterisks on the following slides (Edit to clarify: I did also look at a couple other long slices to check that these general patterns seem to hold... but I haven't confirmed it for all long fic). I did this just to try to get a rough sense of the ranking or the categories. Let's take a look:

Wow! I was surprised to see that F/F averages the most kudos! And that F/M gets the least of all these types of feedback by quite a lot!

Is this because readers don't seek out F/M as much as the other works? Or is it because F/M readers don't tend to leave as much feedback after they read something? To answer this, we need to look at the number of hits (views) that each category gets:

Fascinating! F/F long fic gets the largest number of hits on average. (Maybe this is because F/F works are the rarest, so more people seeking out long F/F fic view each fanwork, on average, as compared to the other categories?) And we can see that F/M long fic gets the fewest hits per fanwork. (Again, maybe this is because there are a lot of long F/M fics out there, so there's less scarcity, and fewer people view each one?)

Okay, so to follow up on the question of whether F/M readers are less likely to leave feedback after viewing a work -- we can compare rates of feedback. For each work I calculated kudos/hits (I actually looked at kudos per 1000 hits to make the numbers easier to think about), and then I took the median of all those numbers to find average feedback rate. I did the same for comments and bookmarks:

The main takeaway here is that the reader feedback rates are remarkably similar. (Again, this is based on one narrow slice of long fic, so I wouldn't take the small differences here seriously.) More people view F/F long fic on average, and fewer people view F/M long fic -- but the rate at which they leave feedback appears to be roughly the same across all categories.

---

Read more on AO3 (including analyses of drabbles and one shots)

#fandom stats #toastystats #ao3 #relationship categories #f/f & f/m & m/m #though my original tag was #f/f vs. m/m #when this was an earlier wip #word count #op #long post #50 #100

236 notes · View notes

xalygatorx · 3 months

Text

Unbound | Chapter 18, "Bard Dance" (End of Act 1)

Áine Ts'sambra—a wayward half-drow bard with a painful past—has her world upended when she's snatched up by a Nautiloid ship and furnished with a tadpole to the brain. In her journey to remove the infestation before it can turn her and her newfound companions illithid, she not only finds that their solution has more layers to parse through than she can count, but that a particular vampire in her party does as well.

Unbound is an ongoing generally SFW medium-burn romance based in the world of Baldur's Gate 3 between Astarion and a female OC. Any NSFW content will be marked in the Warnings section. Contains angst, fluff, explorations of trauma, spice, graphic fantasy violence, and a guaranteed happy ending.

For anything additional on what to expect (and not expect), check the preface post.

Summary: Before bringing Nere’s head to Spaw and leaving the Underdark, Áine, Astarion, and the party take an evening just to have a bit of fun. Astarion actively tries to be romantic. The private gesture gets blown into a party of sorts by the couple’s heavily imbibed friend group. Astarion and Áine end up having an even more private moment together. The group readies themselves the next morning to continue their journey down the path to Moonrise Towers.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!OC

Warnings: 18+/NSFW (cunnilingus); fluff of the romantic and platonic varieties; alcohol; angst; bit o’ smut as a treat; blood-drinking if you squint; end of Act 1, hiatus to follow; this is extra cute to make up for the trauma of the last chapter and many of the ones to follow lmao; lightly proofread

Word Count: 8.5k

Listening to: Six Days at the Bottom of the Ocean - Explosions in the Sky, Bard Dance (from the BG3 soundtrack), I Want to Live (from the BG3 soundtrack)

Shadowheart’s shriek reverberated off the jagged cave walls around them. Its echo flung far beyond its origin.

“Áine, it’s freezing!” the cleric griped, waist-deep and shuddering in the dark water just off their campsite’s shore. Their commandeered boat bobbed at the dock nearby and a conjured netting laced with golden light roped off an area for them, stopping where the water became a bit too deep for an impromptu swimming lesson.

“Correct, so hurry up!” Áine cackled through chattering teeth, looking positively mad as she chafed her arm with one hand and held out her other. She’d plunged in completely straight away to try and acclimate to the water faster, but she wasn’t sure yet if that’d been her best bet. “Just like I showed you, you’ll be okay.”

“Why couldn’t we have done this when we were topside?” Shadowheart growled as she lowered herself further into the water, shuddering visibly as she mimicked the motions Áine had shown her and started to wade out to the waiting bard.

“Because at our only notable opportunity, you decided you’d rather try making out with me,” Áine remarked, dodging an armful of water that her friend flung at her for her cheek. “Hey, look at you! Only one arm left paddling and you didn’t sink!”

“Is that meant to be funny?” Shadowheart asked, her voice strained as she worked to keep her head above the water.

“Yes and no,” Áine said, smiling as she scooped Shadowheart up under her arms when the cleric managed to swim her way out to her. “I mean it when I say you’re getting the hang of this, you adjusted really well when you moved your arm to splash me.”

Shadowheart let Áine swim both of them back to the shore, her arms and legs wrapped around her friend like a toddler on her hip. She was gratified by the praise, but too cold to relish it. “You’re not going to make me do it again, are you?” she asked.

“No, we’re both goners if we stay out here any longer,” Áine said, shivering as she walked them back up the shoreline. “But I did want you to at least know the basics. Just in case.”

“I think I’m already a goner,” Shadowheart complained, her teeth chattering as she buried her face against Áine’s shoulder, desperate for warmth and only finding the bard’s wet shirt.

“I’ll save you!” Áine cried, sprinting back to the campfire while she and Shadowheart rattled out giggles between their violent shudders.

Gale was in his usual spot stooped over the cooking pot when the girls came tearing back up from the beach. “Mystra’s left nostril,” he swore with a chuckle as he braced for potential impact and any scattered showers that rained off them in passing.

Áine dodged past Gale, plopped Shadowheart down near Wyll, and seated herself next to Astarion, who gave her half-drowned form a horrified look. “You went in with all your clothes on?!”

“Look, it wasn’t our best plan, alright?” Áine griped back, getting as close to the fire as she could without setting herself ablaze.

Her heart warmed when she spotted Wyll snagging a blanket and draping it over Shadowheart’s vibrating shoulders from the corner of her eye. She’d seen them occasionally making eyes at each other over the past few days on their journey back to the circle and then to collect the enslaved gnomes and Nere’s head at the Grymforge. Being the romantic that Wyll was, he’d perfectly picked up on every opportunity she granted him to make a bit of a blush rise to Shadowheart’s face.

Meanwhile, her own lover—keeper of her soul, love of her life, et cetera—was cringing away from her dripping clothes and hair with something close to disdain. Áine gave him a withering look as Shadowheart thanked Wyll for his show of chivalrous care nearby. “See that? That’s the correct response,” she needled Astarion, mostly teasing him.

His eyes flickered past her to Wyll and Shadowheart. Astarion scoffed when he returned his eyes to her. “It’s not my fault you chose to give yourself hypothermia, darling,” he teased her back, his lips curling in a half-sneer.

Áine sniffed and glared, and Astarion only just had time to clock the calculation that flashed through her eyes before she pivoted and tackled him back into the dirt. Although she was attacking him, Astarion still managed to make sure she landed on top of him and didn’t hurt herself. He knew she was sturdier than he treated her, but he was protective of her to a fault and he’d not yet fully shaken the scare that had been their near-death at the spectator’s teeth and tentacles mere days ago at that point.

When she raised herself off him, her eyes dropped to the wet spot she’d left on his shirt, which had been her original goal for retaliation. What she hadn’t expected was for the moisture to soak from her shirt to his in an exact imprint of her breasts and stomach. Her features pulled tight as she fought off laughter, especially when Astarion looked down at himself and saw why she was suddenly so amused.

“Are you quite pleased with yourself?” Astarion scolded her, causing her to finally break apart into her hardly restrained fit of laughter. He tickled her sides until she fell off him, rolling to loom over her on the ground as he continued to playfully berate her for getting him all wet too.

Behind him, their friends’ eyes softened at the sight of them teasing each other and at how absent Astarion’s mask had been of late. Even just around them, he was finally starting to become more transparent in his opinions and feelings, little did he know. With a fond smirk, Gale loosed a rush of air from his palm that swept the clinging moisture from Shadowheart’s, Astarion’s, and Áine’s clothes. “Soup’s on!” he announced.

The news of supper brought their remaining companions to the fire and Astarion allowed Áine up after dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose. They reclaimed their seats beside the crackling blaze, assuming their newly practiced dinnertime juxtaposition while the broth and bread were parsed out.

There was next to nothing to hunt in the Underdark for Astarion and they expected it to be a similar situation when they passed into the shadow-cursed lands past the lift in the Grymforge. Because of that, Áine had been assisting their resident vampire more and more with his thirst and had even coaxed him out to “dine” with the larger group in recent evenings.

While Áine sat facing the fire, Astarion sat beside her but faced away from the flames, gratefully accepting her wrist when she offered it to him. There were times that he still preferred to make this trade snuggled up with her in his—their—tent, but there was also something strangely affirming about being able to join everyone for their dinnertime. He still occasionally felt anxious about it, but turning away for a bit of privacy helped. They all knew of his condition, but he was still wary of glancing up from his feeding and finding a horrified expression staring back at him.

Astarion licked her wound closed when he was done, gently squeezing her hand while he still held it in his. Áine extracted her hand just to gently press it against his cheek, drawing him sideways to tenderly kiss his hair. With Astarion taken care of, Áine began to assuage her own hunger with the soup and bread that Halsin had set down for her while she was tending to their vampire.

Astarion felt his new store of blood rush into his cheeks at the gesture, suddenly glad yet again that he wasn’t facing their companions. It felt so natural that, weeks back, he may have feared its ease. Now though he simply relished it. In a similar vein, he wouldn’t admit it, but there was more than a simple affirmation that came from feeling included here—fleetingly, he dared to wonder if this was what family had felt like once.

A sweeping, alien melody wove through the air above them, the faint shimmer of spores glittering when the embers caught them just so. “The gnomes must have made it back to the circle,” Áine inferred, smiling a little at the resonant expressions of joy and victory interspersed between the flowing melodies. “Spaw must’ve been told that Nere’s no more.”

“It’s strange how much can be understood from…well, could we even call it a language really?” Wyll wondered aloud, studying the clusters of spores as he bit into his bread.

“Music is its own language,” Áine insisted, mesmerized by the sounds. She felt Astarion turn back around beside her to face the fire again. “Some songs are just easier for us to understand.”

“It’s odd,” Shadowheart mused, snaring Áine’s gaze meaningfully. With the intensity of her stare, Áine half-expected the cleric to bring up something more dire, but she simply continued to speak on their surroundings. “Despite the allure of its dark beauty, I’d never ventured into the Underdark before. But it’s truly beautiful in so many unexpected ways.”

“I’ve been down here a handful of times, but never at length,” Áine admitted, faltering when she felt a prod at her tadpole. Unsure how exactly she knew, it felt, somehow, like it had come from Shadowheart’s.

Bewildered, Áine opened her mind and heard the cleric’s voice speak within her head. “Keep talking,” she instructed. “Just trust me.”

Áine cleared her throat and added almost mindlessly, “And mostly for supplies or to skim off the Zhentarim’s stashes. I really had no idea how far it expanded though and, as you’ve said, how lovely it can look.”

Gale thankfully picked up the conversation and allowed Áine to wonder at what Shadowheart was doing, sitting in her head like this between their parasites. She didn’t have long to wonder as a vision bloomed in her mind’s eye. Shadowheart’s vantage point became hers and through it, she saw…

Áine’s heart threatened to break under the heft of the emotions that flooded it.

Shadowheart kept her eyes trained on Áine and Astarion and, through her eyes, Áine saw herself glancing between Gale and Shadowheart while Astarion just looked at her.

His crimson eyes rounded with a gentle openness that had become more and more prominent in their time together, a far cry from the narrow, choreographed sneers he used to default to, which were different than his actual sneers (which, to be fair, she did still see a fair bit of). A faint, lingering ghost of a smile touched his perfectly bowed lips as he just watched her in what she could only define as fascination. She’d seen him look at her like that before, much more briefly, but it was something else to see them through someone else’s eyes when his guard was fully down.

“I told you,” Shadowheart informed her smugly.

Áine felt herself blush and then saw herself blush through the cleric’s shared gaze. “Thank you for that,” she told Shadowheart. “I’ll stop my spying though.”

“Understood,” Shadowheart replied and Áine heard the echo of a soft internalized chuckle in her head before the cleric fully withdrew and her mind was her own again.

She glanced over to Astarion, catching him in his doe-eyed stare and smiling toward him. He seemed unsure of how he felt about being caught, but his expression only incrementally changed as he traced the flush of her cheeks with his vibrant eyes. “You’re blushing,” he pointed out, a faint smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

Áine smiled, gently cupping his cheek. “And you’re lovely.” Astarion’s face warmed under her hand and she laughed. “Shall I point out that you’re blushing now too, or—?”

“Hush,” he chided her, glancing away to hide the flush of his face against one of his large, dextrous hands. Astarion chanced a glance back at her when she didn’t look away, finding her watching him with a mix of amusement and, if he was bold enough to presume it, love. His chest warmed over and he sighed, turning to meet her stare. “You, my dear, will be the second death of me.”

Áine’s smile turned a touch guilty. “Sorry.”

A soft puff of an exhalation exited Astarion’s nose, the barest beginning of a chuckle. “Don’t be.”

At some point in the night, someone broke into the wine stashes. A drink with the evening meal wasn’t unusual in the group, at least for the majority of their party, but there was a different sort of tension in the air that night. A tension of celebrating well-earned victories, of their looming progression into a new leg of their journey and likely the most dangerous yet, and the acknowledgment that, as ever, nothing was promised.

Karlach’s boisterous laugh ricocheted off the dark cavern walls, a bottle of ithbank clutched in her hand just long enough to take another swig and set it back down before her heat began to melt the glass. Áine laughed softly in turn, her head pleasantly swimmy while she let the cross-talk of several quiet camp conversations swirl around her like the most comfortable background noise. This was her new family and it truly felt like a family. Her only hope was that this sense would last through their journey into the cursed expanse of her birthplace, but she tried not to think about it. If she did, she’d spoil this taste of peace, herself.

Áine tilted her head back as Astarion approached, giving her a humored look after evaluating the half-empty bottle of mermaid whiskey near her hip. She gave him a playful gasp and mused aloud, “Look, the stars are out again!”

Astarion rolled his eyes and bent down to scoop her to her feet, eying her as she swayed a bit. “Are you stable?” he asked, holding back a laugh.

“Physically or mentally?” she asked, forcing a serious expression on her features that only half-succeeded. “Or emotionally?” Before he could answer, she gave a little flip of her hands. “No matter what you pick, the answer is ‘probably’?”

Astarion snorted. “Good enough for me,” he remarked, taking her hand. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, gently playing with his fingers while they walked. He led her down to the lakeshore, the prints she’d left earlier from running back to the fire with Shadowheart still faintly depressed in the wet sand.

Away from the light pollution of the fire, the Underdark’s makeshift sky blossomed with sprinkled light and color. The bioluminescent spores had swirled so voluminously from the circle just up the hill that they’d drifted down to their campsite, their gentle sweeping songs still lacing the air with palpable sensations of triumph. The spores in all their glowing glory patched a living starscape above them, the myconids’ singing in perfect syncopation with the flux of the motes that carried them.

Áine sighed, her heart clenching. “It’s so beautiful,” she said, still toying with Astarion’s fingers as they took in the view together. The black water lapped placidly against the sand nearby while the laughter and merriment of their friends still met their ears, just sweetly dampened by the rocky ledge separating the couple from them now.

“It is striking,” Astarion agreed, his eyes tracing past the dancing motes to the rocky ceiling above. “But it’s no replacement for real stars. For the moon. The sunlight.”

Áine glanced up at him. “What was it like?” she asked, holding his gaze when he looked down at her. “To feel the sun again for the first time in over 200 years and not burn?”

Astarion’s gaze unfocused as he remembered. “Terrifying. And then…exhilarating.” He sighed, his grip around her hand tightening with his impassioned tone. “The first instinct was to flee. Then the realization came that it would’ve been too late by that point—if I were going to burn, I would be burning. And then of course I wondered if I had died. Again. And then I just felt warm.”

Áine’s heart fluttered at the memory he painted, at how she imagined his cool skin would have felt being kissed by the sun again after so long. That flutter became a sting as it occurred to her that his previous sources of warmth in his new life would have all come at a cost—his only warm blood from rancid rats half-dead with disease, his only comfort from the tattered brown blanket he still had with him to this day or against a body he hadn’t chosen for himself.

She’d not known for the majority of her lifetime to crave sunlight and the underelf blood in her had shied from it, but ever since she’d escaped her old life, it had been a daily blessing to feel its rays. She’d been ungrateful, all things considered. Privileged. She’d never considered before meeting him how lucky she was to simply be allowed to exist in the daytime.

“You must miss it,” she suggested with open sympathy.

“I do,” he said. “This place is filled with color and its own sort of light, but it’s not quite the same. I’d just gotten the daylit world above us back, had just remembered for the first time in so, so long how much color there is in the world, and it’s gone again. For a while at least.”

“I used to be skeptical of your interest in keeping the parasite,” Áine said, which was no revelation to either of them. Her skepticism had never been hidden in their conversations. “I still am, but only because I worry about you. But I understand why you’d want to hold onto what it gives you.”

Astarion nodded. “It has protected me from the sun, from rushing water, from Cazador’s clutches, from everything the way nothing else ever has,” he agreed. The line of his mouth formed a more bitter curve. “The way no one else ever tried.”

Áine turned to face him, slipping her other hand into his as well. “I wish someone had. I would do…anything to be able to have helped you.”

Her conviction clawed at him. “You hardly existed for the majority of it, darling,” he reminded her.

“I know,” she said, her shoulders giving a helpless lift. “But I can’t help but feel let down on your behalf. The strong have a duty to protect those in need.”

“I thought it was ‘to protect the weak’?” he countered.

“It’s too much of a generalization,” she said, frowning. “There is no weakness in needing help. The strongest people are born from positions of weakness.”

“Perhaps that’s why they’re left to rot,” Astarion mused. “The ‘strong’ of society has never been made up of true advocates. They retain their position for themselves. This is the way the world turns.”

The bard sighed. “You aren’t wrong. I know you’re not wrong because I’ve seen it firsthand, too. But I wish you were. I hope someday the world changes enough that you are.”

Astarion scoffed, but it was softened by a faint smile. Despite the fractured state of his lover’s rose-colored glasses, she still managed to look through the pink-tinted shards when she gazed upon a world he saw as forsaken. He shouldn’t have been so discouraging of it, he supposed. She may not have given him the time of day had she not maintained so much quiet hope in other people. Still, when he watched her extend that goodwill to others that he wasn’t so sure would return it, it made him uneasy.

Disliking the somber air that had fallen over their heads, especially considering why he’d guided her out there in the first place, Astarion freed one of Áine’s hands, using the other to swing her into a little spin. The tipsy bard stumbled a little over the sudden movement but righted herself easily enough and regarded him with curiosity when he drew her close and placed his hand against her waist.

“Look, I don’t profess to be any sort of twinkle-toes like our Wyll,” he said as he guided her through some slowed-down dance steps. “However what sort of former society elite would I be if I didn’t at least know my way around a simple waltz?”

Áine grinned, looping her free arm around his shoulders and happily leaning into his lead. “I had no idea,” she said, her cheeks flushed a decadent red.

“Nor I, to be honest,” Astarion admitted as he spun her again, smiling as she gracefully followed his hand and returned to him in one fluid motion. “Not until I specifically tried to evoke the muscle memory.”

“What inspired that?” she asked.

Astarion shrugged and simply replied, “You told me you enjoy dancing,” as if it were all the reason he needed. Maybe it was.

Áine’s heart melted and it translated to her expression. It stirred that familiar warmth in Astarion’s chest, but he didn’t shy away from it. He just continued to lead her through their dance on the lakeshore, twirling her this way and that and humoring her by letting her spin him on occasion, too. She hummed them a soft melody to dance to and they swore the myconids’ melodies around them shifted to follow her song, their disembodied singing taking a slower, romantic tone.

And leave it to their drunk friends to, as Astarion at least first thought, ruin it.

“Well, isn’t this adorable,” Shadowheart mused as she and the others filed around the corner, clearly having a little spy on the couple until they’d been spotted by the vampire. “Volo, why don’t you give them some music?” She hiccuped partway through her question.

“If it wasn’t abundantly clear from my, er, performance at that goblin hovel, I am no bard,” Volo insisted to the heavily imbibed cleric. “However, that’s never stopped me before.” From the self-proclaimed expert-on-everything’s extended hand rose a transparent blue replica of that same hand, the apparition then parting into two while a similarly ghostly violin settled in its hold.

“Room for an ensemble?” Gale wondered as he, with admittedly more finesse, also conjured a pair of mage hands, his positioning a flute between their magical fingers.

“Can’t let us have one moment, can you?” Astarion groused as Áine giggled and the phantasmic floating appendages with their instruments began to sync into a rendition of the classic “Bard Dance” song.

Instead of shying from Astarion’s theatrical upset, the conjured ensemble and their beloved party swept into the heart of the song. Karlach shuffled her feet, kicking up small clouds of sand as she danced on her own, at least until Wyll stepped in line with her and followed her often idly improvised steps after a bit of quick study. With a fond look from the sidelines, Halsin stood with Lae’zel and clapped in time with the melody. Even the githyanki beside him seemed to relax enough to enjoy the admittedly absurd scene before her. Scratch and the owlbear cub ran circles around Karlach’s dancing feet and Wyll left the tiefling with her new partners to snag Shadowheart and tug her away from her perch for a dance.

“Wyll!” the cleric cried, laughing as she half-struggled to twist away from the sudden spotlight. Astarion was gearing up to mock her when he felt similarly swept up in a more upbeat dance.

“This is not what I had in mind,” Astarion groused with less fervor down at his little bard, who was now leading him into step with the new tempo and with the silliest grin plastered across her whiskey-flushed face. “Unhand me!” he haughtily demanded, but the joking demand crumbled with a laugh.

As the myconids’ songs intertwined with their merriments and laughter, harmonizing with the conjured melody with renewed felicity, the two resident ancients stood watch, observing the beings on the beach that, compared to them, were all infants in this corporeal plane. It was a rare moment of unbridled happiness and fun before them, made only more rare to the knight and the aged god who both knew to some degree what was to come.

“They shall remember this,” Withers murmured to the ghostly knight nearby. “Thine fates have formed nigh impossible junctures, a tangled web extending ever further into darkness.”

“Aye,” the knight rumbled, his arms crossed before him with his palms stacked atop the hilt of his blade. Incandescent eyes watched the smiles that blossomed from each strange being down on the sand, watching the half-drow bard prancing her vampire partner around in time to the bouncy music. She threw her head back and laughed at something he said and he smiled down at her as if she were the very sun he missed so much—positively enraptured and basking in her warmth. “Isn’t it all the more prudent then that they have this? The darkness will wait.”

Withers gave a grumble of acknowledgment. “And wait, it shall.”

No one noticed the line that was crossed that turned the energetic, musically drunken “night” in the Underdark into a messy, sleepy drunken “night.” It was a line that was always crossed in these sorts of scenarios, but sometimes there was at least one person able to pinpoint which goblet was the “one goblet too many.”

Perhaps Astarion, the only sober individual left down on the lakeshore by that point, may have been able to had he not gotten wrapped up in Áine’s charms and opted not to leave for the remainder of the night. Carefully sidestepping over a prone and passed-out Karlach and then past Wyll, who’d dozed off slumped against a rock, Áine was having to keep a hand pressed to her mouth to stifle her giggles at the state of their friends.

Astarion relieved her of that duty when they made it back up the short path to camp, capturing her lips and kissing her through her tipsy laughter, smirking as he felt her become far more interested in kissing him back than paying attention to where she was going. After the second time she stumbled over her own feet, Astarion scooped her off of them to carry her the rest of the way to their tent. Her legs wrapping around his waist to hold on drew a quiet growl from the base of his throat.

As his kisses grew hungrier, his tongue parted her plush lips and explored her yielding mouth in tender, languid strokes. He felt heat lance through him at the muffled sound and sensation of her moan, but he was wary of that heat, too. As he ducked through their tent door and took them both down to the floor, seated while keeping her straddling his lap, Astarion tried to put his feelings into context, finding it more difficult when Áine was giggly and encouraging and strewn across his thighs.

Bleeding Hells, he wanted to fuck her but was wary of what they’d discussed. The sensation he felt at times of “going through the motions” would often come partway through when he couldn’t find it in himself to, as he saw it, ruin the mood by stopping. He’d withdraw within himself, present but not, until it was over. He wouldn’t jeopardize the high of euphoria he was feeling just from kissing her by being thoughtless about this.

Unhelpfully, Áine smirked into their kiss and purposely cut her lower lip against one of his fangs, raising herself up and pressing herself against him as she tilted his head back and kissed him hard enough for those small beads of blood to trickle into his mouth. Astarion growled again, equal parts feral in lust and exasperated by trying to be the adult in the room. In retaliation, he clapped a hand against her ass just hard enough to startle her. The muffled yelp that passed from her lips past his made him chuckle.

One step at a time, he decided, sucking the cut on her lip until it was bruised and then sealing it with a purposeful flick of his tongue.

Astarion gripped Áine’s hips and shifted her off his lap and onto her bedroll, snorting softly at the pout she gave him. “None of that, darling,” he rasped.

Áine smiled cheekily and nodded. “No, no, I get it. Sorry, I just—Astarion!”

“Hm, yes?” he murmured, already half-done with untying her shirt laces, nimble fingers flying down the fabric collar.

“What are you doing?” Áine asked, suddenly breathless. She looked up at him with a mix of curiosity, concern, and arousal. He could smell that she was already wet for him, that familiar, decadent perfume always doing the most dangerously delicious things to his mind. One step at a time, he repeated fervently, his hands fisting a little harder than necessary in Áine’s shirt as he freed her from it.

“Is this okay?” Astarion asked, practiced hands tracing down to the ties of her pants next.

“Well, yes, but—” She gave a surprised grunt when he managed to untie her trousers and pull them off her in a few small, simple movements. “But what about you? Are you okay?”

Astarion, still fully clothed and intending to stay that way, traced her form with his eyes, pupils blown out with his craving and shadowing the crimson hue of his gaze. He leaned forward, crawling just a little closer to her as he murmured, “I’m very okay with this, my love.”

For just a second, Áine wondered if he’d just forgotten to take off his clothes. She only had a second to wonder before he smirked down at her, wrapped his large hands around her calves, and tugged her forward so she fell onto her back into the pillows.

Suddenly self-aware at how exposed she was in this new vulnerable position, Áine knocked her knees together, her face burning up. Astarion gave her a chiding glance, his fingertips tracing up her shins to those offending knees, tracing the caps. “I, um…,” Áine stammered, not sure what to say. Whatever this was was certainly new to her and desire fanned the growing flames in her belly, but she still worried. “Are you… You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, you know.”

Astarion’s smirk grew wider and his restless fingertips pried her knees apart. “I know, darling,” he husked, bowing lower as he slipped her legs over his shoulders. “Anything else?”

His last question had sent his cool breath fanning across her core and it shot a shiver up her spine. “Um,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she sent an embarrassed glance to the tent ceiling, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Finally, she let out a nervous giggle and surrendered. “I-I guess not—oh!”

He’d wasted no time the moment she handed him her remaining control. He was on her like a man starving, his hands digging into her hips to hold her in place as he devoured her. Astarion had never been more present during an act of carnal intimacy, learning his way along her glistening folds by chasing every whimper and moan that he helped ease from her lips.

Astarion had pulled her closer to him, adjusting the angle of her hips as he swirled his tongue against her swollen clit, when he heard her clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her building moans. He made a disgruntled sound against her, pulling his mouth off her bud with a purposefully lewd suck to tease her as he reached up for her wrist. “Ah-ah, darling,” he tutted up at her, brushing the bridge of his nose over her mound and eliciting a small spasm that rocked through her legs. Astarion smirked, pleased at the effect he had on her. “I want to hear you.”

“But our friends,” she whined, casting a furtive glance toward the tent door. “What if—”

“Our friends know enough to excuse some noise every so often,” he chuckled, laving a slow line up her slit and flicking his eyes up toward her face. He felt blessed to meet her eyes as he did and more blessed to see how flustered watching him go down on her made her. “The ones who aren’t blacked out for the eve will be reassured that I take good care of you, won’t they?”

Áine could feel her pulse hammering in her neck, truly speechless for perhaps the first time in her entire life. Gods above, he was going to ruin her like he’d accused her of ruining him. She was already practically shaking. If she didn’t try to stifle the moans he was pulling out of her, she’d wake the entire Underdark! Just the thought was enough to make her panic a little. “But I—”

“Won’t they?” he repeated in a firmer tone that still came out almost like a purr.

“I—,” Áine started, slowly letting her head fall back into place against the pillows. “Um…yes?”

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, rewarding her with another swirl of his tongue against her clit. He felt her thighs tighten against his head the slightest bit and chuckled softly. “That do something for you, darling?”

“Apparently?!” she squeaked, learning more about herself tonight than she was learning about him.

Astarion couldn’t help the laugh that trickled past his lips, moving the hand he still had snared in his to cover one of her breasts. “Busy those hands somewhere other than your mouth, sweetheart,” he mumbled before returning his focus between her legs.

Áine looked down at where he’d left her to cup her own breast, at first thinking it a little unorthodox but trusting his lead. She’d played with herself a little in the past, but given her minimal interest in sex before catching feelings for him, it hadn’t done much for her at the time. She might’ve laughed at herself for the doubtful look she cast down at her own chest if she weren’t so self-conscious. Experimentally, Áine rolled the hardened peak of her nipple between her fingertips, her throat convulsing when the sensation was elevated by the havoc Astarion was wreaking below her with little more than his lips and silver tongue.

She’d no sooner thought that than he sank one long finger inside her and she reflexively moved to stifle her sounds again. Her hands stilled as he grumbled at her again and she exhaled a shuddering breath as she followed his instructions and melded her palms against her aching breasts, feeling silly until any coherent thought she could’ve reserved for self-depreciation became impossible.

Astarion surprised her by moaning against her sensitive juncture, seeming to be enjoying this as much as she was as he continued to lick at her clit while he pumped his finger steadily into her heat. Áine had devolved into a writhing, mewling mess at his ministrations, her back arching as he added a second finger to plunge into her warmth.

He kissed near her bud, careful not to overstimulate her. “You take me so well, my sweet,” he murmured praise against her core, adjusting his fingers to curl upward and stroke along that magical spot at the front of her inner walls.

Áine’s hips bucked of their own accord when he stroked inside her, a wild gasp tearing from her throat that became a loud, wanton moan she couldn’t hold back if she wanted to. Astarion groaned, feeling his cock twitch, already straining against his pants. “There she is,” he purred, guiding her to her peak. “Sing for me, little bard.”

“Oh, gods, Astarion,” she whined, her hands wandering from her chest to thread through his curls as he returned his mouth to her clit. The combined sensation of his mouth on her and his fingers in her was overwhelming and she was sure she’d never swept toward coming undone so intensely before. “I… I think I—”

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Come for me, love.”

Those little words snapped her final threads and she shattered with a cry, gasping his name as she gradually came down, doing everything she could not to grip his pretty curls as she tensed and unraveled from the inside. Astarion eased her through her orgasm, slowing his touches until he leaned his head away, watching the slow withdrawal of his fingers from her clenching cunt, wet with her pleasure.

A genuinely rakish smirk crossed his lips as he pressed the pad of his thumb against her inflamed clit, murmuring understanding as she whimpered and knowing she must be terribly sensitive after all this. He eased his hand away after the applied pressure succeeded in sending a quick succession of aftershocks through her core, tearing a couple more delicious mewls from her. Astarion raised his two glistening fingers to his lips and slowly sucked them clean of her arousal, giving her a smug smile as he wiped his mouth.

Áine was finding it difficult to form any sort of cohesive thought pattern, but she at least had the wherewithal to form some words around her panting. Her eyes followed Astarion as he shifted her quaking legs off his shoulders and crawled up beside her to lie down. “Thank you?” she expressed with the faint air of a question, not sure if that was an appropriate response to what just happened. Astarion smiled at her affectionately and chuckled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “But what about you?”

The extremely self-satisfied vampire propped his head up on his hand to peer at her. “What about me?” he countered, having a feeling that he knew what she was going to say.

“Can I… Can’t I do anything for you?” she asked, subconsciously rubbing her legs together as the echoes of his touch continued to ghost along the vee of her thighs. A touch of anxiety feathered in her foggy thoughts, worried suddenly that this was unfair to him even though he’d initiated it.

“Not a thing, not just yet. You can let that perfect body unwind and get some sleep,” he murmured against her temple, pulling her in to curl against his side and tugging the blankets up over her exposed flesh. He kissed her, lingering at her hairline and tenderly stroking her back until he felt her start to relax. “Thank you for trusting me, darling,” Astarion added in that same low timbre, not sure if she was still awake to hear it and not minding in either case.

Áine stirred a few solid hours’ worth of sleep after they’d retired to their tent, her dark eyes opening slowly and taking in her surroundings. Her gaze flickered upward to Astarion’s face, noting that he was still in some stage of reverie, both of his arms wrapped snugly around her. It took her a moment to remember why she’d awakened without her clothes, but as soon as she did, her face warmed over and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

And then there was that inkling of guilt being quietly resurrected. The scales felt tipped last night, at least in the way she’d come to understand intimate relations must be balanced. She knew beyond a doubt that he’d done what he’d done for her because he’d wanted to and he’d explicitly said that he didn’t want her to reciprocate just yet, but it still felt wrong to her. Maybe the way she’d learned about sex up until this point was skewed, too.

It was necessary, she realized, to be honest with herself. Last night just being about her while her male partner didn’t necessarily get off made her feel like she hadn’t done her due diligence as a woman. It was archaic and foolish and she knew precisely where it came from—watching the way her parents interacted, all the accumulative guilt trips she’d received in previous “romantic” dynamics if you could call them that. It’d taken her a while to settle down from their activities not because she wasn’t satisfied, but because she felt like she’d slacked off. Her desire for him, to please him and make him feel good, came from a place of loving him, but there was that lurking anxiety that came from darker times.

Áine was pulled from her unsettled thoughts when she felt the pad of Astarion’s thumb smooth across the furrow in her brow. She met his now-open eyes and he smiled down at her. “Well, hello, beautiful,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and tightened his arms to draw her in closer.

The knot in her chest eased a little just from the timbre of his voice. It slunk through her walls and curled up in her bone marrow, assuring her she was known. “I believe that’s meant to be my line,” she noted, running a hand gently through his silver curls. She gently stroked up the elven line of his ear and he shivered, giving her a pointed look. Áine just offered him a playfully smug smile. “How was your rest?”

“It was quiet,” Astarion murmured, tracing aimless patterns on her back. “Preferrable really to what it can be.” Áine had never envied the reverie state that replaced sleep for her full-blooded brethren. The nightmares she’d experienced in her first couple of years of freedom had been more than enough. Meditating through her actual memories or more vivid renditions of the things she suffered in sleep just sounded like pure hell. “Yours?”

“The same,” she said, giving her legs a little stretch before entangling them with his again. The moment stretched like she had, long and comfortably, until Áine’s insecurities crept up on her again. She wasn’t going to bring any of it up, but she could tell that he knew something was amiss when their eyes met again and she didn’t want to leave him to draw his own conclusions. “Was last night okay?” she finally asked.

“Whatever do you mean, my love?” he asked, adjusting to his side to face her and shifting her head from his shoulder to the crook of his arm.

“A couple of things, I guess,” she said, holding eye contact with him when she wanted to duck away. “The first is that I want to check on you. I know we checked in at the time and things felt right in the moment, but do you still feel good about it?”

Astarion’s eyes softened and he cupped her cheek to pull her in for a tender kiss. “Thank you,” he murmured against her lips before they parted. “I feel fine. And I feel good that I feel fine.”

Áine’s smile blossomed anew. “I’m glad. No regrets?”

“Of course not,” Astarion mumbled, almost aghast. “Let’s clear one thing completely, darling, I’ve never regretted a single thing we’ve done. Not one. I’ve just had…reactions, I suppose, at times that I haven’t felt were fair and that had nothing to do with us.” He slanted a brow at her. “Can you trust me on that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, no time lapsed for a second thought.

“Good,” he said, smoothing her hair back from her face. “Now, what else?”

Áine’s eyes fluttered closed as he ran his fingers through her hair, briefly losing her train of thought. It may have been better if that particular train of thought had stayed derailed, but she knew she needed to work on this personal insecurity she hadn’t even realized she had. She sighed and confessed, “I feel…guilty, I suppose, that last night was all about me.”

Astarion scoffed, looking confused when she opened her eyes again to peer at him. “Why would that be, my love?” he asked, experimentally stroking the line of her ear to see if it had the same effect on her that it had on him. She gave a little hum of contentment but she didn’t seem to be as sensitive there as he was.

Áine sighed again and it was a shorter, more frustrated sound. “I’m not sure I know how to put it into words in a way that doesn’t sound foolish,” she admitted.

“Just try,” Astarion suggested.

“When did our roles reverse for these sorts of conversations?” Áine wondered, leaning in to brush her nose against his.

She kept it to herself to avoid inadvertently embarrassing him, but she was immensely proud of how he was helping her navigate this. As much as he still defaulted to certain patterns while they were traveling or conversing with other people, it was clear he was actively trying to meet her in the middle when it came to handling things between them and she appreciated it more than she could properly express.

Astarion smirked. “Just now. Don’t count on it for too terribly long though, darling. I’m the hot mess of our pairing and I’m not keen to give that up yet. Far more fun, you see.”

Áine laughed, relenting when he just looked at her expectantly. “Fine,” she murmured, toying with the collar of his shirt and studying the laces as she blurted out, “I think in my limited experience with, well, having sex with men, there’s been an expectation that the man’s pleasure is more important than anything else. So I felt and still kind of feel guilty that you took care of me so diligently and I didn’t do anything for you.” She stuttered a little, quickly adding, “Even though I know you didn’t want me to and that’s completely fine! It’s just the, uh…principle, I guess. Gods, that made no sense…”

“No, it did,” Astarion murmured, wearing a thoughtful expression when she dared to meet his eyes again. He playfully pinched one of her flushed cheeks before musing, “Troubled thoughts when it comes to carnal pleasure… I believe that’s meant to be my line.”

“I’m serious, Astarion,” Áine laughed, although she did appreciate the joke.

“I know you are, sweet girl,” he mumbled into her hair as he pulled her into his chest. She wrapped her arm around his back, forgetting to not rest her hand against his covered scars. He realized he didn’t mind so much anymore. “You needn’t feel guilty for that. But I do think I understand your meaning. For whatever it’s worth, I don’t see our coupling as just a means to a climax. I think I used to think of sex in that sense, long ago, before it became painful territory, but not with you.”

Áine’s eyes were getting watery and she was just glad his face was buried in her hair and he couldn’t see. She tried to ignore the realization that even if he couldn’t see her getting teary-eyed, he could probably still smell the saline. It was hard to obscure much from his senses. “I’ll try my best to remember that,” she murmured. “Thank you for spelling it out for me. This isn’t an affirmation I expected to need.”

Astarion nodded, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs. “If it helps, my dear, I had a grand time,” he murmured, chuckling when he felt her face heat up against his cold cheek. She grumbled something barely discernable about him giggling at her expense, causing him to draw back with a dramatic gasp, which was when he finally saw that her eyes had gone glossy. “Believe it or not, love, for once I’m not exaggerating,” he insisted, unable to resist flashing her a cheeky smirk. His tone dropped to a purr as he nuzzled into her throat again and whispered, “I love all the little sounds you make for me. That the only word you can piece together as you fall apart is my name…”

“Okay, okay,” Áine stammered, beet-red. As she tried to roll away and get up, her vampire just snared her by her waist and pulled her back against him. “Astarion!”

“Just like that, darling girl,” he teased her in a sultry murmur, his tongue darting out to trace the curve of her ear. He was only further encouraged when it pulled a shiver from her smaller frame.

“You’re the worst,” Áine laughed, covering her reddened face with her hands.

“Not the worst at that, apparently,” he continued to rib her, just wriggling with her when she tried to free herself. She only ended up getting more tangled in him.

“No, you’re arguably one of the best at that and the worst part is you know it!” Áine whined. She couldn’t help but laugh when she felt his lips curve into a grin against her nape.

After he’d sobered from his teasing, Astarion traced a line up the back of her neck with the tip of his nose, kissing her hair again. “I enjoyed myself as much, if not more than I would have if we’d done more,” he informed her. “While it was difficult not to jump right in and hope for the best, I felt completely present during all of it. I’m just not quite out of the ‘motions’ with myself yet. What we did was perfect.”

Áine nodded, tilting her head to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m glad that we both enjoyed ourselves,” she murmured. “And I’m glad that you respected your boundaries. And I suppose all I can add is, well, the moment I can do something for you—”

He chuckled and kissed the rest of her statement off her lips. “I promise you will be the first to know.”

After finally making peace with rising and continuing on their way and jostling their more hungover companions from their slumbers—some of whom had eventually found their way back to their tents and some of whom had accidentally camped out on the beach—the tents were packed and the supplies secured for their short jaunt back to the circle and then for the last leg of their passage through the Underdark.

Despite knowing why they were swinging back through Spaw’s territory, Áine still picked up her rucksack as usual, flinging it open in search of her mint pouch only to shriek and drop it back to the ground.

Clutching one hand to her forehead that was somewhere between a facepalm and a way to brace herself, Áine groaned aloud at her staring friends, “Gods above, everyone, get ready to go. I need this nasty drow head out of my bag!”

Next chapter: Chapter 19, "Last Light"

End of Act 1!

Taking a hiatus to continue outlining and drafting into Act 2. Thank you for reading and for all the kind comments and feedback! x

28 notes · View notes

abeautylives · 1 year

Text

Imperfect Moments - Chapter Seven

Series Masterlist

pairing: Jakexfemale!reader

word count: just under 2.4k this chapter

series summary: You’re in love with your best friend. His twin brother hates you. Or does he?

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, a little angsty (okay so each chapter is a little angsty), language, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, masterbation (f. and m.)

Recovering from the weekend proved to be a daunting task. Jake hadn’t left your apartment until late Monday morning and by the time you’d even realized that a new week had begun, you were so unprepared for work that you decided to call out of your afternoon shift.

With an entire day’s worth of free time now on your hands, you choose to catch up on the few chores that you’d ignored while dealing with… everything. Once the dishes in the sink are clean, wine bottles in the trash and your discarded dress plucked up from the kitchen floor, you move to your bedroom to gather more laundry. But when you get there, you notice you can still smell him. Breathing deeply and stepping toward the bed, you find that the scent of him is all over your sheets, your pillowcases.

The sheets don’t make it into the washing machine.

You don’t call Josh until much later that night, snuggled into those sheets and letting the remnants of his brother’s aroma calm your nerves. He’d left you alone after your last conversation, no more texts or missed calls and you figure he must have been satisfied that you were fine and would be willing to talk, on your terms.

The phone only rings twice before he answers it.

“Darling, how are you?” The name makes your stomach turn this time. He doesn’t mean anything by it, he never did and that truth has been solidified over the last two days. “You can be honest with me now that you’re alone.”

You let your eyes roll. “I’m fine Josh, really. I just needed some time to think.”

“Yes, I’m sure you got a lot of thinking done last night.” It doesn’t sound malicious, there’s almost laughter in his tone before it turns serious. “I really am sorry… for everything.”

Not ready to let him off the hook, you press him for more. “What is everything, exactly?”

“You know…”

“I do know. But you need to say it, you owe me that.”

He stays silent and you can imagine him chewing over his bottom lip with his perfect teeth, running a hand through his fluffy curls that have grown a touch too long. You hear him draw a deep breath in through his nose and release it on a sigh.

“I’m sorry I don’t feel the same way.” That’s not what you were expecting him to say. “I need you to know that I do love you, deeply. I just… you’re my friend, Y/N. My best friend. And you’re so special to me, bright and lovely and I don’t tell you enough.”

Your eyes have welled up, but you don’t feel the sadness you’d been anticipating.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved on Saturday. All of it. Before the show… after. I can’t believe I spoke to you that way, I- it was very… jarring to find you like that. With Jake.”

Oh god. You’re not sure that you’re mentally prepared to talk to him about Jake. “Josh, I-“

“No, let me get this out. I could never understand why he didn’t like you, you’re very pleasant to be around.” He laughs dryly at that. “But he had been very concerned about you before the show. It was odd, he seemed to be mad at me when I told him you weren’t coming. Imagine my surprise when I found you in such a compromising position, in the dark. It all clicked into place.”

“What does that mean?”

“What do you think it means, darling?” You don’t have an answer, you’re more curious about how Josh’s mind interpreted the situation. When you don’t speak, he fills in the blanks.

“He’s attracted to you. Sneaky bastard, he’s been hiding it all this time. The two of you are quite similar.”

“Attracted” to you? It occurs to you that Jake hasn’t told him what actually happened in the hallway.

“Have you talked to him?” About me, did he talk about me?

“I have… What are you digging for? Wanna know if he told me about his romp in your sheets?” Your jaw drops and though he can’t see it, he’s said it for exactly that reaction. “I’m joking.”

Nervous laughter bubbles from your throat.

“He did talk to me about you. Not about that though, I promise. He assured me that you had a nice evening and that you seemed to be okay, ya know, after everything that happened. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Am I?

“Yes. I am, I swear. Are we okay Josh?”

“You tell me darling.”

“I want us to be. I miss my best friend…” You mean it with all your heart, though your feelings are shifting as you speak. It’s not possible to fall out of love with someone overnight, you think, but this particular overnight spent in the arms of his twin has changed things.

“I miss mine too. Can I see you? Soon?”

“Yeah.. um, I called out of work today so I’ll probably have to go in on my day off. Maybe this weekend?”

“Called out of work huh, that’s not like you. What did my brother do to you?”

Fucked my brains out, let me get a little drunk, made love to me in the morning… “Not funny.”

His laughter is sharp and genuine and you join him in it. “This weekend, we’ll do something. Don’t be a stranger, darling, please?”

“I won’t, I promise. Talk soon?”

“We will. Sleep well Y/N.”

“You too… goodnight Josh.”

When the call ends, a sigh of relief whooshes from your lungs. As you roll to plug your phone in, you see some missed texts.

Jake K: I hope you had a good day

Jake K: And night. Sleep well Y/N

It’s alarming how similar they are, especially when you’ve spent so long thinking they were complete opposites. You know you need to catch up on sleep, but you can’t resist unplugging it and answering him.

Me: I did, and I will. I hope you do too ☺️

The bubble indicating his incoming reply appears immediately.

Jake K: I think I’d sleep better with your ass pushed against me

You laugh aloud at the brashness, but can’t help remembering how you’d woken up this morning.

Jake K: Sorry

Jake K: It’s true though, I wish you were next to me

This is a game you’re interested in playing, so you set him up for it.

Me: That would be nice. What would you do if I was in your bed right now?

It feels ridiculous but you hit send anyway, your cheeks already warm with self-consciousness. The bubble appears and disappears a couple of times, but instead of a text in reply, he’s sent a voice memo. Another laugh bursts from your lips, you can’t imagine any one of the Kiszkas knowing how to use that feature of their phones.

As soon as you hit play, his voice comes through the speaker. It’s low and deep, you think he’s probably speaking softly so as not to be overheard but you close your eyes and picture him. You have no idea what his bedroom looks like but you picture him in a king size bed, tan skin against white sheets, dark hair spread over his pillows.

“What are you playing at sweetheart? Want me to talk dirty to you so you can do my job yourself? Play with your perfect cunt until you cum on your pretty fingers and fall asleep wishing it had been me? I can play that game… if you were in my bed, I’d have my face buried between your thighs, making you cum on my tongue and fingers over and over again until you’re crying, begging me to fuck you. Shit…”

He’d trailed off and ended the recording, sent it just like that. Another text comes through as soon as you’ve heard the end of it.

Jake K: Come over

Me: You know I can’t

You almost want to, want to throw your clothes back on and speed to their house, throw yourself at his feet and let him do whatever he wants to you. He knew he’d have that effect on you, knew you’d be throbbing and wet from his voice alone.

Jake K: That’s a shame, I’d love to have my dick sucked right about now

The crassness sets your cheeks aflame but you can feel the material between your legs getting damp. You decide to test the boundaries of this conversation as you settle into your pillows and let your free hand slide into your underwear.

Me: I guess you’ll have to call someone else ☹️

Jake K: Fuck no

Jake K: Only you

Jake K: Eager little thing, no one’s as good as you

Your fingers are already tucked inside, pumping softly and soaked in your arousal, palm rocking into your clit. You need more, more of his voice, so before you can overthink it you’re opening his contact and hitting Call.

“Y/N?” His voice is still low, only barely lifting in question, and it sounds strained. You picture him with his hand wrapped around his dick, you hope that it is. When all he can hear is your labored breathing come over the line, he continues. “Fuck sweetheart, are you touching yourself?”

“Mm hmm… are you?”

“You know I am, dirty girl. Wish it was you though.”

“Me too, mmm talk to me, tell me more about what you would do. If we were together…” Your fingers are already hovering over your clit, waiting for him to speak.

“Christ, you wanna know how I’d fuck you right now?” You whine in reply as you swirl your fingertips over yourself. “Filthy, nice and dirty, put you on your knees and bend you over. Watch your ass bounce every time I fuck into you. Do you like it like that, love?”

His voice is rough now, gravelly. You can almost feel the vibration of it as your fingers pick up speed.

“Yeah, I fucking love it.” You can hear his breaths, rapid and shallow and you picture his grip on his cock getting tighter as he works himself over. “More.”

He grunts in response. “I’d mark you up, with my teeth, my hands. Bright red prints on your ass and thighs, paint your throat purple. Everyone would know what you let me do.”

“I want them to know,” a low moan rips from your lips at the thought of it, of everyone seeing the evidence of where he’d been.

“Yeah? Want the world to know I’m yours and I’d do anything to make you cum? All the dirty things you want, anything to make you happy.”

“Fuck baby,” his breath hitches and releases on a long groan when you say it, “Are you close? Want you to cum with me…”

“So close, wish I could see you right now, watch you making a mess all over your hand, know you look absolutely sinful.”

“Jake, Jake I’m gonna- I’m cumming, fuck. Jaaaake…” The way his name squeezes its way from deep in your throat has his hips bucking to meet his fist and he’s letting go with you, his release hitting his stomach and spilling over his fingers.

You both stay quiet as you catch your breath, listen to each other draw in air and release it. Now that it’s over, you’re not sure what to say.

“That was a nice surprise sweetheart. Didn’t know I’d be into phone sex.” He chuckles warmly and you smile to yourself.

“Me either…”

“You’ve never done that before? You just called me with your hand in your panties on a whim?” The genuine surprise in his voice almost makes you feel proud of yourself. You’ve shocked him for once.

“It seemed appropriate. Your voice memo… I just thought-“

“Don’t second guess yourself now, that was so fucking hot. What am I gonna do with you?”

Whatever you want. “I dunno, I guess we’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Yeah… yeah I suppose you’re right. You going to bed now?” His voice is laced with fatigue already, and you can feel it taking over your body as well.

“I am, you should too. Get your beauty rest.”

“You calling me ugly, Y/L/N?”

“I could never…” A pleased hum hits your ear as you both recollect the night before. “Can I see you soon?”

“Whenever you want. Say the word and I’ll be there.”

“This week? I have to work but we could have dinner, or something… I’m supposed to hang out with Josh this weekend.” As soon as you say it you think it’s going to put a damper on the close of this conversation, but he smiles before replying.

“Good, that’s good. You talked to him?”

“I did, it went well. Did you… tell him anything? About us?”

He did, but left out the gritty details. He’d also ripped into Josh for how poorly he’d treated you, how he’d disrespected your request that he leave you alone. Josh had scoffed in offense, told Jake to mind his own business.

It is my fucking business now, Josh. You hurt her, and you need to make it right. She deserves better.

“I told him that you needed a friend, that I wanted to be there for you.”

“I’m sure he was confused. He thought you hated me too, ya know.”

Is that what you were doing at her place all night, giving her “better?” Is this like… a thing now?

“He had… concerns. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Seriously, I can hear you worrying about it.” When you giggle and follow it up with a yawn, he yawns in return. “Go to sleep, pretty girl. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

“Okay pretty boy, tomorrow…”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jake…”

You end the call before the silence can linger, before you let yourself cling to any last words you could stumble over.

Once you check that your alarm is set and your phone is plugged back in, you snuggle into your blanket and take a deep breath against your pillow. The pillow Jake had slept on. It still smells like him.

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf @gretasimp @objectsinspvce @writingcold @gretavangroupie

Please let me know if you'd like to be added ❤️

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet series #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fan fiction #gvf fic #gvf series #gvf smut #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf

147 notes · View notes

amatchinwater · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Warnings: explicit sexual content, fingering, oral f receiving, unprotected sex (reader on pill), cream pie,

Words: 2513

Kinktober: Food Play for @pumkinspice28

Ao3 link Masterlist

---

It’s been a little while since you and Steve were able to have some time for yourselves. After Starcourt blew up and Billy’s passing, things in town just didn’t seem like they wanted to calm down. Well, okay, that’s not entirely true. In the sense of Upside Down fuckery, things were calm. But when you find yourself best friends with a bunch of thirteen year olds who always want to do something and look up to you for companionship, you and your boyfriend become very busy very quickly.

The saving grace, surprisingly, was Nancy. Offering that she and Robin take the kids out and do something together, giving you and Steve some much needed alone time. You were shocked because despite the girl dating Jonathan, you could’ve sworn she still harbored feelings for Steve. Not that you could really blame her if she did. Steve is an amazing boyfriend, not to mention very pleasing to look at.

Pulling up to your shared apartment with Steve after closing up Family Video, you were very excited to finally spend some time with him. What you weren’t expecting was to walk through the front door and see your boyfriend in the kitchen. He’d made you guys dinner and it smelled delicious. Your mouth started to water the second you crossed the threshold and kicked off your shoes.

“It smells amazing, Stevie,” you smile, tossing your bag and vest on the couch, leaving you in a low cut top. “What’d you make?” You ask, coming up behind your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his middle while he stirs what looks like a dark gravy or some sort of sauce in a pot.

Setting the wooden spoon down, he turns in your hold, stroking his fingers along the small of your back. “Pot roast, veggies, and mashed potatoes. Everything is staying warm in the oven while I finish up the gravy.” Steve kisses your nose, “did you have a good shift?”

You sign into his contact, “yeah, it wasn’t too bad, actually. Robin let me go a little early that way the kids didn’t see me before I left. I still can’t believe we get a whole night to ourselves.”

Steve smiles brightly, excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Me either, I’m honestly surprised Dustin hasn’t called in annoyance yet. Let me finish this and then we can eat,” your boyfriend leans in, sealing your mouths together though you can’t stop smiling.

You’re far too excited as well but you set up the table so he can finish up.

Dinner, unsurprisingly, was amazing. Steve has always been a fantastic cook and it shows that he enjoys doing it too. “I hope you saved room for dessert,” he says, placing the dishes in the sink.

“Dessert?” You perk up, ever present sweet tooth all too happy. With a grin, Steve nods towards the fridge. Moving any faster and your socks would have made you slip on your way. Yanking open the door, you can’t contain your squeal. Finding chocolate covered strawberries, whipped cream, cherries, and chocolate sauce. You yank out the can of whipped cream in excitement.

Coming up behind you, Steve shakes a container of sprinkles, “there’s ice cream in the freezer too.”

You giggle and turn around, “all we need is your sailor uniform and you’re good to go, huh? Gonna make me a sundae?”

Steve’s eyes drag along your body, “I can do that.”

A blush burns your cheeks, unsure why the response caused the reaction in the first place. “I-I’ll get the scoop and some bowls,” you stammer, nervous under the intense gaze of his brown eyes. Busying yourself with the task, Steve takes all of the other items and places them on the counter beside you. While he opens everything else, you pop the cap off the whipped cream. Not wanting to wait, you hover the nozzle over your mouth and press down. Giggling when a little too much comes out, dripping down the corner of your mouth as you try to catch all of it.

Steve’s thumb quickly swipes it away, watching you with glazed eyes, he brings the digit to his mouth, sucking it clean. Good god. That’s something to fucking see. “Fuck the bowls,” Steve says, “who needs one when I have something as sweet as you?”

You choke. Trying your very best to make sure that whipped cream doesn’t make its way into your lungs from his words. Or out of your nose for that matter. “What?” You embarrassingly squeak.

Flipping open the top of the chocolate sauce, you can only watch as Steve turns the bottle, dripping some over the crook of your neck. Your boyfriend hums to himself, leaning in to lick and suck the treat from your skin. A deep moan pushes past your lips, Steve biting the flesh. “Yeah, I like that idea a lot better,” he groans, lifting you up effortlessly and laying you down on the now clean dining room table.

“S-Steve,” you pant your breaths at the hungry look in your boyfriend’s eyes.

“Yes, princess?” He asks, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down your legs.

You’re incredibly turned on and all he’s done is said some choice words and licked your neck. Okay, so maybe it’s been a little while since the two of you had a chance to have sex too. Adding in the food is a first though. But you’re so ready. “Nothing,” you reply, lifting up to yank your shirt over your head, eager to be his plate.

His hands roam every inch of your exposed body. Arching your back, allowing him to unclasp your bra and toss it who cares where. Peppering kisses down your torso, Steve curls his fingers in your lacy panties, removing those too. Now fully exposed to your boyfriend, you can’t help but notice the lack of nakedness from him. You catch the hem of his shirt when he tries to move away, a whine of protest crawling from your throat.

“Sorry, angel,” Steve chuckles, reaching behind himself to pull his shirt off. Your eyes dilate at the tan skin covered in chest hair. Not something you ever thought you’d be into, but on Steve it’s fucking intoxicating. “Now,” he leans over your face, “be my good girl and sit still for me. I’m starving,” Steve all but growls, slamming his mouth to yours.

His tongue pushes past your lips and you moan into the kiss, carding your fingers through his locks. You love being the only one who’s allowed to mess up Steve’s perfect hair. It fills you with more pride than it should.

But all too soon, Steve pulls away, going to get the ingredients from the counter and place them beside you on the table. Shaking the canister of whipped cream, smiling he outlines your nipples with the treat. After putting some above your aching pussy- because actually on it would be fun for no one- Steve points the nozzle at your mouth. Gratefully, you open your mouth, flavor bursting on your tongue.

All you can do is watch in awe as Steve makes you eat your words. Literally making you a sundae. He’s far more generous with the chocolate sauce than he was with the cream. Doing zigzags literally everywhere. Neatly over the whipped cream he left and then on your thighs and stomach. The more you watch him put on your body, the wetter you get. So badly needing him to trace the lines with his tongue already. Just like the cream, once satisfied, Steve offers you some. This time, when the chocolate hits your tongue, so does Steve’s. Swirling along yours for the most delicious taste you’ve ever had.

Your chest heaves, despite your efforts to stay still. You’d hate to ruin his masterpiece. Steve regards you as nothing less either. Little noises of approval at the designs he places along your skin. Shaking some sprinkles, you giggle when he tosses the closed container over his shoulder. Always one to throw humor into anything to make sure you’re at ease and enjoying yourself. Your pupils dilate further, watching his long fingers dig into the jar of cherries to put one on either nipple. You squirm, your cunt undoubtedly dripping onto the table. You want his fingers inside you so fucking badly.

Something Steve must realize, because after giving you a cherry, he sucks his fingers clean, reaching down to rub them along your folds. His eyes darken, “you’re so fucking wet, princess.” Steve’s lips curl into a devilish grin, “such a dirty girl,” he chuckles darkly at the loud moan from your lips when he thrusts two fingers inside you deep. “Stay still,” your boyfriend chastises, “don’t ruin my work before I’ve finished it.”

Like that’s the easiest thing to do when he pumps his fingers so deliciously. The sweetness on your tongue and the look in his eyes pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Warmth pools in your stomach and your limbs lock up, moaning wantonly, “Steve. Steve, please.”

“Are you gonna cum?” He whispers in your ear and you whine. “Good. Cum, sweet girl,” Steve rushes back, thrusting his fingers faster until you explode. Trembling, you scream through your orgasm, soaking his fingers. Steve’s tongue laps up your juices, pulling his fingers out to clean you up. “Fuck, you always taste so fucking good.” Steve kisses your thigh, licking up some of the chocolate sauce, “almost done, promise.” His brown eyes flick up to your hooded gaze, “I need to be inside you so bad, princess.”

His words alone make you moan. You’re a mess and you want his cock inside you too. Really fucking badly. Probably worse than him with one orgasm under your belt and laying out in the open like this. It’s almost a tease as much as it is fun. Your eyes widen, Steve coming up to eat the treats he’d made of your nipples. You moan when his tongue reaches the sensitive bud, swirling and sucking until they’re both clean. Eyes rolling back, you try not to squirm as he cleans the chocolate sauce from your torso.

“Steve,” you gasp, reaching up to try and pull him closer.

But your boyfriend backs off, “one last thing,” he says, grabbing a spoon and opening the chocolate ice cream. Confused, you cock your head as he puts a spoonful in his mouth and sets the container aside. Steve winks at you.

Why the fuck did he wink at- “shit,” you gasp, goosebumps pebbling your flesh. Your boyfriend trails the ice cream down your stomach towards the mound of whipped cream above your pussy. It’s so fucking cold. So why does it feel so good? Steve makes quick work of cleaning you off.

His brown eyes are intense and glassy, watching you as he trails his tongue along the ice cream. Holy shit. Compared to the coldness of the ice cream, Steve’s tongue is that much hotter. Scorching your skin as he cleans the mess he’d created. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem able to keep stopping anymore. Once your torso is slick with his spit rather than dessert, your boyfriend keeps moving down. You hear his pants unbuckle and clank against the tile floor. But the majority of your focus is on his tongue.

Dipping inside your folds, making you moan wildly, he toys with you. Steve has always loved eating you out. Doing it after literally eating off of you seems all the more fun to him. You can’t fucking breathe. His tongue swirls along your clit deliciously. Perfectly. One hand spreads your thighs apart, smearing chocolate sauce everywhere, the other slides back into your throbbing pussy. Your walls clench around the digits, hips grinding against his face while Steve moans with you. He always said your pleasure gets him off. His mouth and fingers play your body like a piano, expertly calling forth another orgasm.

You shake through it, crying out and throwing your head back.

Steve yanks his fingers out and you hiss at the abruptness of the action. Barely even getting the split second to really feel the loss, your boyfriend slams himself inside of you. A loud moan rips from your throat, hands coming up to dig your nails into his biceps. Fingers are one thing, Steve’s cock being so deep in your pussy so fast leaves you tingly all over. Pleasure coursing through your body faster than blood. He grins at you with the smallest hint of teeth as he slowly drags himself back.

“God,” you groan, head thumping against the table. You can’t handle seeing it on top of feeling it. Too much. Way too much. But it’s also really fucking good. Because Steve keeps his torturous, slow pace, raising your heartbeat higher and higher.

“Come on, angel,” Steve coos deeply, “look at me.” With a small whimper, you do as you're told, met with dark eyes, almost black, and his muscles twitching from holding himself up. “That’s my girl,” he praises, the only hint you get before he thrusts faster. Harder than before. Hitting that sweet spot until your toes curl. “So pretty. Squeeze me, sweetheart, come on.”

You babble incoherent words, probably his name. Not that you have any fucking clue if that’s true or not. So much pleasure wracks your frame, you tremble, orgasm coiling tightly in your gut. All the while those damn brown eyes stare into you, full of love and absolute bliss. The sight of him enjoying your body as much as you enjoy his is what does it for you. Your walls flutter, unable to clench around him any longer as you cum again. You’ve lost count now to be perfectly honest.

That’s quite okay with you.

Steve moans deep in his chest, watching you fall apart while literally balls deep always gets to him. “Gonna fill you up now angel,” your boyfriend’s thrusts get sloppy, but not even remotely softer. His face pinches, thrusting deep inside before you feel the warmth of his release filling you up.

God, you love the way that feels. One day you’ll get off the pill and give him his band of Harringtons. But for now, you’ll close your eyes in bliss at the way his cum feels inside your pussy.

Carefully, Steve pulls out and drops a finger between your legs, “so messy. I think you should clean yourself up,” Steve says, running it up your folds, humming to himself, before bringing the white coated digit to your face. Eyes half focused and heavy, a smile pulls at your lips and you open wide. You groan with glee at the taste, sucking his finger clean. “Always my good girl, huh?”

You nod happily, wrapping your arms around Steve to pull him close, “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you, too,” he taps your nose with a soft smile. “Let’s get you up and into the bath.” You hold on tighter, knowing he’ll carry you there himself. Steve is the master of cuddles and loving touches and you’re more than looking forward to it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #stranger things #Kinktober vol. 2 #Match Writes

331 notes · View notes

archiveikemen · 10 months

Text

'Black Wedding' Story Event: Chapter 2

Harrison's Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Harrison: Come here, Kate.

Kate: Wah…!

Harrison hugged me from behind and patted my head affectionately.

(He usually doesn’t do this in front of people.)

The cultists looked even happier at the sight.

Cultist: It is understood that the two of you are very in love with each other.

Cultist: However, we still need to observe you for a while more before we can decide whether you shall be allowed to have your wedding here.

Kate: A-Alright.

Harrison: Be our guest.

…

— In order for them to ascertain that we were genuinely in love, we were asked to do some volunteer work around the church grounds.

Our every move was being monitored by the cultists.

After confirming that we were finally alone, Harrison spoke to me.

Harrison: You’re truly a very bad liar.

Kate: Ugh… I’m sorry for getting in your way.

Harrison: That’s so like you.

Kate: So, were any of the cultists lying?

Harrison: None of them were lying. They all had good intentions.

Kate: In that case…

Harrison: Yes, it’s just as the investigations had shown. The crimes were committed by the Founder alone.

(I see…)

Kate: As expected, we need to have our marriage approved by the people here in order for that man to show himself.

The church was open for children to come visit, and we were asked to go play with them.

If we wanted to punish the Founder, we had to first make ourselves look credible. Our efforts would otherwise be pointless.

(We need to show them how deeply in love we are with each other.)

Enthusiastically, I pushed open the door to the room the children were in.

Harrison: Woah…!

A petite little girl ran and bumped into Harry.

Petite Girl: I-I’m sorry…

Harrison: No, I’m sorry. Are you hurt?

Petite Girl: N-No…

Harrison: I see, that’s a relief.

Little Children: H-He’s so cool…

(The children got all heart eyes for him almost immediately.)

Petite Girl: I want to be this big brother’s girlfriend!

Girl With Braids: No, this big brother is mine!

Harrison: Haha, thanks. However, it’s a pity.

Harry pointed his finger at me and narrowed his eyes affectionately.

Harrison: I belong to her.

(Uh…)

Harrison: She’s earnest, clumsy, and good-natured… I can never take my eyes off her.

Petite Girl: … Okay. Will I also meet someone like that someday?

Harrison: Of course, someday.

Girl With Braids: But let me know if you ever break up with that big sister!

Harrison: …

Harrison: Haha. Sorry, but that’s definitely never going to happen in my entire lifetime.

(I got worried when Harry said “are you okay with it?”.)

Even though this wedding was fake, I wondered if Harry was interested in marrying me.

However, I knew that whether or not we got married wasn't the most important.

Because—.

Harrison: Hm? You want a shoulder ride? That big sister over there is an expert at that.

Kate: …! I’m not sure if I am… but I’ll try my best!

Harrison: I’m just joking. Kate, you’ll be my support.

Kate: Okay!

…

After playing with the children until we were out of breath, the cultists led us to a room.

Kate: … That’s a lot of dresses.

The room was lined with all sorts of wedding dresses.

Cultist: This is your final test. Please choose one dress for her.

Harrison: For her? Got it.

Harrison looked at some of the dresses and pointed at one of them.

Harrison: I think the one that suits her best is—

Harrison: This one.

Cultist: Well then, will the lady please change into the dress he has chosen.

I left to go put on the dress and went back to Harry—

Kate: What do you think…?

Harrison: … Yeah, it looks good. It suits you very well.

Harry chose a beautiful black wedding dress.

Cultist: Why did you choose this one over all the other options?

Harrison: No matter what kind of darkness she finds herself surrounded by, she will never lose sight of herself.

Harrison: She’s someone who remains untainted. That’s why I think this dress suits her.

(... Is that what he thought while choosing the dress?)

Cultist: … I see. The two of you have been acknowledged as a couple truly in love.

— The wedding ceremony would be at 10 o’clock the next day.

After informing us of that information, the cultist left.

Kate: So… we’ve been acknowledged?

Harrison: Yeah, that’s right. We can take a break for now.

Kate: Thank goodness…

I heaved a sigh of relief and looked at the black wedding dress Harry had chosen for me.

Kate: … When you asked me if I was “really okay with this” before this mission started, I got kind of worried.

Kate: I thought that you might not want to get married in the future.

Harrison: …

Kate: While it’s true that marriage is something I want, I also found something that’s a lot more important than that.

Harrison: What is it?

Kate: As long as I can stay by your side forever, that would make me the happiest.

Harrison: … I see.

Kate: Anyway! Harry, let’s do our best tomorrow, yeah?

Harrison: Yeah. Stay close to me so you don't get hurt, okay?

…

— The next day, in the black wedding dress, I walked into the chapel with Harry.

Not long after, a man in glasses with a gentle demeanour showed up alone.

(... This man is the killer behind the deaths of those couples.)

Founder: Why is there no one here? Where are my believers…?

Harrison: There’s another church behind this one, right? That’s where they all are.

Harrison: I lied about the change in venue for the wedding ceremony, as well as the timing being changed to 11 o’clock.

Founder: W-What the…

Founder: … Who are you people?

Kate: … Just a couple in love.

Harrison: Yeah. Like the people you killed.

Founder: …!

Harrison: The bodies were seized last night as evidence. No more running away.

Harry pulled a gun out of his pocket and pointed it at the man—

Harrison: I have something to say to the bride.

Harrison: Therefore, I’m going to need you to die.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil story event #niki translates

64 notes · View notes

perpetualexistence · 3 months

Text

Sea Monster AU: "If you hate this so much, why is there a fire in your eyes?"

youtube

Putting a song here about becoming/being a cannibal feels about right for a duo killing people and treating them like animals to the slaughter.

Originally I was just going to call this part 'The Routine', but then the idea for an Alejandro quote struck me and I had to change it. There is no scene in this part, but if there were this quote would certainly be there.

It ended up being harder to write than I originally thought. I couldn't figure out why until I realized I was trying to force a singular scene that would serve as a face-heel turn. When I decided to scrap it and go by death by a thousand paper cuts, suddenly writing everything else flowed a lot smoother.

Who knew that was how editing worked? You learn something new ever day when it's your first time writing something long-form.

But yeah, herein lies the beginning of Noah's descent into darkness! It also includes Noah's backstory in this AU. You'll probably notice it's got some inspiration from Slippery Slopes. What can I say? I'm not immune to an angsty Noah past. I do hope it's different enough!

Content warnings: Slight mention of eating people. And of course, Alejandro being manipulative. But again, to be the norm for this AU. Also! This relationship gets toxic and codependent at times, and this is one of those times. This part shows one of the foundations for that.

I will say though, the next part does get lighter!

Enjoy!

<- Prev | First | Next ->

The problem with Noah's suggestion is that he isn't a really good actor. Alejandro's smart enough to recognize this might be a problem before he tries to trick the first ship, and asks Noah to demonstrate how he'd try to convince someone that he's helpless. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

Alejandro decides he needs to teach him acting somewhat otherwise this plan is dead in the water. There's risks in teaching him how to lie, but if he's the teacher then he can learn Noah's tells so he'll still be able to read him.

The lessons are going as okay as they can be until Noah starts recognizing a few of these techniques as things that Alejandro did during the first few days of their meeting. He can't help but ask "Oh, like how you did with me?" because his mouth runs faster than his brain sometimes. This makes Alejandro feel A Certain Way about his past actions, but he tampers that down and insists that it was true with Noah.

They blitz their way through this tension by avoiding pursuing the discussion. Eventually Alejandro feels that Noah's ready enough, and so they begin in earnest.

Alejandro and Noah develop a pretty decent routine of Noah scouting out ships for Alejandro to either eat or spare. Noah has a walkie talkie/ear piece that he's connected to a radio that sits on the ship Alejandro uses to push him. That way he can subtly announce code for 'leave this one alive' or 'take no survivors'. Noah also makes sure to break any lines of communication that Alejandro wouldn't be able to take out in time. This includes scrambling sonar that would detect something as large as Alejandro getting too close. Once Noah gives the signal to begin, he makes sure that he's above deck. Alejandro fakes eating Noah first to cover their tracks in case any of the survivors realize that Noah showed up on the ship suspiciously before a giant eel showed up.

Alejandro originally intended on making a lot more ‘mistakes’ with innocents because he assumed that Noah was probably using the vigilantism as an excuse to not let Alejandro eat any humans. But Noah’s very aware that Alejandro probably would pull some bullshit like that, so he only sparingly requests for survivors if someone was nice enough to him. Yet Alejandro’s enjoying the vigilante side of eating people who deserve it much more than he’d anticipated since he really only agreed to it to make Noah happy. He doesn't know why exactly, but he takes more pleasure than normal when he's able to kill someone who was rude or cruel to Noah.

Meanwhile Noah's finding himself taking more and more pleasure in taking people down without realizing it. Noah finds himself on the receiving end of things such as being yelled at for being a stupid tourist by someone who's from out of town, to people trying to extort him for money to get back to land, he's starting to find it particularly hard to be as guilty as he was. This is partially due to him doomscrolling the worst things about humanity to help himself feel better about what he's doing. It's also partially due to the fact that for as messed up as it is, there's a part of him that enjoys the attention that Alejandro's giving him. Mind you, he hates being treated like a possession with no autonomy. But he does like being treated as someone precious who deserves the best. Plus he's not immune to Alejandro's charm and appearance. Made even worse by the fact that Alejandro being bigger means that he can see it in more detail.

An important thing in this AU, and the reason why Noah's slipping into a path of darkness, is that Noah in this AU starts off as Season 1 Noah. There's no Owen or Team E-scope to help him see the good in humanity. He's someone more passive in that he's easily influenced by those around him. And when that person is Alejandro? It doesn't do good things for one's moral compass.

It doesn't help that Alejandro's not only encouraging Noah viewing humanity as the worst, but he's rewarding it. Even though it's not part of their deal, Alejandro starts gifting Noah treasures from the ship after he wrecks them. He saves the prettiest for himself in an underwater cave where he keeps the spoils of his accomplishments. He just gives Noah the ones that are profitable for humans. Plus a few shinies. He wants his (precioso) hunting partner to look the part of someone successful. Noah's appearance is a reflection on both of them after all.

Noah knows this is a bribe to keep going. But he's also pretty desperate for money. His dad left when he was young and took most of his money with him, leaving his mom to raise nine kids all on her own. She and the eldest sibling took as many jobs as they could, but they still had to resort to a loan shark to stay afloat. The second and third eldest siblings became pseudo-parents to their younger siblings because the family certainly couldn't afford babysitters. Noah's mother hated resorting to this, but with little help from extended family there wasn't much choice if she wanted to keep the family together.

Noah actually ended up becoming a breadwinner in the family. Once upon a time little Noah had a poetry phase. He'd read it, and he loved to write it. He'd write out his feelings about the shitty family situation to cope. It was cathartic. Over time his love for writing it faded. Not out of anything negative. That poetry was there when he needed it most, but now it was just time for him to find something else. His interests in literature just changed. The thing was, one of his siblings found out about a writing competition with prize money and decided to submit one of his works without him knowing.

He won. It was a very decent chunk of money that helped the family that month. He knew the family needed it, so he started to throw himself into more writing competitions. He started to notice a pattern real quickly. His older, angstier poems were the ones that one prizes. The newer ones, his lighter ones, didn't. He only had a limited amount of the older poems he could submit before he'd have to make newer ones. But the family still needed money. So he forced himself into writing poetry (a medium he no longer cared for) about a time in his life he hated to discuss.

That combination created a gifted kid burnout who closed himself off to force himself into a state of misery that could be profited from. His mom and siblings would try to reach out to him because they could see that he was having a terrible time with this. But the bitterness he felt towards writing extended into bitterness towards his family for putting him into this situation. It's not fair. He knows it's fair. But emotions don't often go by what's fair.

By the time he met Alejandro, he no longer had to write. Most of his siblings had left the house, or had income of their own. They'd all chip in to help their mom with paying off the loan shark. Noah no longer has to be the breadwinner. But the damage was already done, and that bitterness had never been resolved. That bitterness made it hard to keep friends, because it seeped through even in places he didn't mean it to.

So when someone new enters his life that actually cares about him for himself? Who stays even when he's bitter? He'd be a fool not to do everything in his power to keep them. Even if it means he'll have to sacrifice others to do it. At least it isn't himself this time. And if he now has a means of taking power back from other people who have wronged him? He'll use it.

Alejandro doesn't know about any of this of course. Noah has told him a little, and that little is enough for Alejandro to make some assumptions. But not the whole story. As far as Alejandro knows or cares, all is going according to Alejandro's plan of molding Noah to be just as ruthless as he is so they can properly rule this lake together.

And then the power of friendship just had to come and throw a wrench into things.

34 notes · View notes

romeulusroy · 11 months

Text

Sever (Kendall Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Kendall, Logan mention

Word Count: 1,515

Inspired By: Absence by Rio Romeo

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Nervous to post!!! I thought I might try writing like I used to with my absolute favorite trope lol. I don't know how it'll go and tbh I expect this not to go well, but what can ya do? I didn't make it as dark as I used to write, but I'm definitely up to giving it a try! Let me know what you think my loves!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Resentment sleeps between you. Like a baby, its breath is slow and deep. Peaceful. Blissfully unaware. It pushes you to the opposing edges. There is an ever growing abyss in the middle of the mattress. One wrong move, and you’ll slip. Sometimes, in moments of bravery, you’ll hold your hand out. Pebbles will crack off, falling down, and you hold your breath. You never hear the eventual plop of it hitting the bottom. It goes on forever, the only infinite you can count on. You’ll grip the side, watching the inky black as it stares back at you, and you’ll wonder where it all went wrong. When the crack, so small, so insignificant, tore itself in two, into this. He remains incurious. While he sleeps his body is unmoving, unphased by what lies between you. He remains still, content, his back turned to the cavity, to the truth. This is not a feeling of dread or fate, merely a glimpse. A recurring nightmare that you will fall in. beneath you will collapse. You’ll call for help, but he will choose not to hear you. Lately, it seems, you're going unheard. Your concerns, your fears, your feelings, your screams. You will cry out and no one will be there to grab you, pull you up, hold you. No one will be there to tell you it’s okay, you’re okay. Instead you will fall for forever. One day, however long that takes, centuries later, you will land next to those pebbles and every bone in your body will shatter. They will combust. Turn to dust. You will be a pool of yourself all because he is choosing not to see reality for what it is. Because he thinks this is okay. Because he thinks you’ll get through this. You can’t get through this. It’s too late. It’s always been too late.

It’s not only resentment. Resentment is the product. The product of ignorance, of anger, of dismissiveness and stupidity. His own ego. A perfect concoction. A deadly poison you drank with enthusiasm. Everyone in your life knew before you did. They could see that crack, that hairline fracture, but you didn’t listen. He wasn’t always like this, you’d tell yourself. Maybe, maybe not, but it’s what you have to say, over and over, until the words are carved into your skull. Part of you is still fighting for him. Making empty promises to yourself. If he comes home, if he comes home and flashes that familiar smile, you’ll give it another try. If he remembers those flowers you like from that one shop. If he brings you coffee in your mug, the only mug you drink it from. If, if, if. He never does any of this. He never will. You’re trying to resuscitate something that is already dead. Dead and buried, you throw yourself on to the casket. Begging him, it, anyone who will listen: please, this one time, this one time let him show you that you are more important than any of this. All of this. This whole world. Instead he is door slamming and muffled screaming and highs and lows that are unpredictable. He is kissing young, hot strangers and drinking into oblivion. He is exactly the man you married. He always has been. You’ve been fooling yourself the whole time.

You pretend to be asleep, pulling the covers over your head. His alarm is loud and furious, like his father. He dresses and redresses, caught in a loop. Forever burdened to live the same morning over and over. Insecure, unsure, there is a pile of dress shirts on the floor. A pile you used to pick up, rehang. A pile that used to disappear before he came home. A pile you’d like to set fire to. Forever trying to impress blood that wouldn’t care if he swam or drowned. He hums to himself, tying his tie, checking himself over. You count the minutes until he is gone. Dressed, shaved, cologne so thick you could choke on it. He picks up coffee on the way when there is a perfectly good, perfectly expensive machine, sitting in the kitchen. His phone, fully charged, is already vibrating with missed calls, missed texts, missed connections. You used to wonder if he had your number blocked or muted, every opportunity to reach out going straight to voicemail. Now you don’t wonder. Now you don’t call. Now you wait for him to leave, for the front door to carelessly bang shut before you start your day. You step over the pile of clothes in the walk in closet. You ignore the double sinks in the master bathroom. You leave the bed unmade. Instead, you make your coffee. From the machine. With your favorite mug. You linger in the kitchen, living room, what would have been the nursery. All the places untouched by his presence. This is more your home than his, but it is both your names on the paperwork. Both your names in the engraved wine glasses. Both your names in those vows. You sip and sit and picture a life much happier than this one.

Maybe in another lifetime.

When you’re done, you wash it by hand, leaving it in the sink to dry. It remains the only proof of your existence. Undisturbed the rest of the house remains. Even the cushions you curled into have resumed their correct place. This house isn’t the only thing rejecting you. Like a foreign organ, a transplant, everything and everyone knows you don’t belong. He doesn’t want you here, why should they? Back in the bedroom you dress. The clothes wait and watch, but you can’t stand to touch them, look at them. More proof of his failings. You could tell him all the ways he was important and impactful until your lips were blue. He wouldn’t listen. He needed to hear it from them, from him. Your side of the walk-in closet is pristine. You take down a few shirts, a few pairs of pants, moving mindlessly. You remember first moving in, wondering how you could fill this huge space? Now it felt cluttered, suffocating. His things were everywhere. He was everywhere. You found it in the corner, unused. He always promised a big getaway, wherever you wanted, just the two of you. How many years was that? You hoped against hope, every anniversary, every birthday. He had the means, just not the care. You wanted to stop, but you couldn’t. The dreams you had for your marriage, your life, they’re still alive. Naive, stupid, it didn’t matter. You were both. You don’t have time to fold them all, the want. You never expected it to go like this. You never wanted it to. But one more night in that bed would kill you. Your spirits, your desires, every foolish idea and notion about what love is and was and will be. One more night against that drop and you might just fall in.

Toothbrush, toothpaste, soaps and conditioners and scrubs. You live two totally separate lives. You only seem at the beginning and the end. He is the sun. Sunrise, sunset. You grab everything you can, zipping it shut. On the edge of the mattress you wonder if you should leave a note, to explain. Explain what? Haven’t you said everything you can? Haven’t you cried and asked and put it every possible way and still, still he has not done one thing to show you that he is listening, that what you say matters. Absorbed in bloodlines and successors and medieval rituals his father loves, the bloodshed. You can’t do it anymore. You can’t be second, or third, or fourth in line for his attention, his priority list. You’ve put up with it for far too long. You know your silence, the absence, will be more impactful than anything you have ever or will ever say. You gave him his ultimatum and he refused to change. Now it is your turn to act. Rolling the suitcase out, you turn off the light. If you didn’t know it, if you were a stranger looking in, you’d never even know you existed. The things you’d need were packed away. The only thing that remained of you was your mug. That he could keep, as a reminder. Next time he chose them over someone he was supposed to spend his lifetime loving, caring, hearing. Next time, when he tripped over himself to impress his father. If there was a next time, that mug would stand for everything he ruined. He messed up. He ignored. Next time, he should think twice. You leave your keys on the table, watching the crack in the mattress shrink just a bit. It can’t be fixed, this can’t be fixed, but it knows you’re doing the right thing.

So many years you spent married to Kendall. So many years you could never get back. But you’d have more after. After him. After this, you’d find real love. Whatever this was, whatever it had been, you were kidding yourself. You know this now. Will he?

#writing #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader #kendall roy oneshot #succession oneshot

64 notes · View notes

mellowswriting · 1 year

Note

Okay. I need a mando playing with kids. Like idk how it happens, but all of a sudden reader is watching din interact and entertain a group of children, making them laugh and telling them stories and it melts her heart. He’s totally enamored with them and they are with him and reader is just like what the heck where did this tenderness come from?! I would appreciate it so much please and thank you! 🥹🫶

one day

pairing || Din Djarin x Reader

word count || 1.3k

summary || Din Djarin is a natural with children.

content || pure fluff, domesticity, Din getting the happiness he deserves

a/n || y’all know I go feral for domestic!Din 🥺 also I wrote this instead of studying for my deviance final lmaooo

Din Djarin Masterlist | Main Masterlist

A warm blanket of orange sunlight settles over the little village as the sun glides her way beneath the horizon. You never truly understood why they called it the golden hour, not until now. The warm sunlight pours through the open windows and settles into the grooves of the hardwood floors. Everything feels so… calm. The soft spring breeze carries the scent of wildflowers and tranquility into the little cabin you share with your lover.

To think this all came about by complete accident.

Six months have passed since Din brought the Aurora down for an emergency landing just a few klicks outside of Hanna City. The locals in the small village nearby were more than accommodating to the two of you despite how standoffish Din was at first. A few of them helped tow your ship to their mechanic and found you some lodgings for what was intended to be a very short stay. A few days, maybe a week tops. Then setback after setback with repairs kept you grounded far longer than expected and somehow in the time that passed… the village started to feel like home.

To your surprise, Din was the one to suggest it.

“We don’t have to leave forever.” He had murmured into the darkness of the bedroom. You were half asleep, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, and could only muster a confused hum. “We could always come back. Y’know, between bounties. Have a little… home base.”

That made you perk up. Your voice was all groggy but the brightness is there. “Yeah?”

Din shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed.”

And that was that. One of the biggest decisions of your lives made in the span of a three-sentence conversation. It didn’t need to be talked to death. It all felt so right. You swear you’ve never seen Din more relaxed in all the years you have known him. This kind of life suits him. The tension held tight in his shoulders has disappeared. His smiles come easier, brighter. He’s finally getting enough sleep at night. The little routine you’ve settled into is the comfort neither of you realized you were missing out on.

The early evening has quickly become your favorite part of the day. You’ve just pulled dinner from the oven, a fantastic recipe that makes Din melt every time you make it. There’s something about a hearty, home-cooked meal that turns him into an even bigger sweetheart; he shows his appreciation by cleaning the kitchen, giving you a massage, and murmuring sweet words in your ear. Anything you want is yours. The peace you know to come is well deserved.

A bright chorus of laughter breaks through the quiet reverie and you can’t help but smile at the sound. The children have taken quite a fascination with your husband. They hang around your cabin just to catch a glimpse of the things that amaze them - Din’s armor, his weapons, the mere intensity of his presence. Din likes to pretend he’s stoic, unmoved by their curiosity, but you see the brightness in his eyes when he tells you about their endless barrage of questions. The angel-faced children have worn at his stoney exterior with their wide-eyed amazement, slowly exposing the softness that hides beneath - the softness that was once reserved solely for you. Laying himself bare in such a way isn’t easy. You couldn’t be more proud of him, even if you tried.

You push open the front door, intent on urging the children to get home for dinner rather than lingering around waiting for Din to appear. As adorable as they may be, you won’t be responsible for the chastising from their parents for being late. Just before you call out, the glint of sunlight reflecting against metal catches your eye. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the brightness of the setting sun but when they finally do, you’re greeted with the sweetest sight you have ever seen.

Din is crouched in the grass, half a dozen children surrounding him with eyes full of wonder. He’s telling them all about his daring defeat of the Krayt Dragon, a story for the ages that has them fully captivated. It’s a little amazing. Well, more than a little if you’re honest. He lets the drama of the story play out in his expressions, his eyes going narrow as he describes how gigantic and gross the beast truly was. Din talks with his hands, tracing the curves and twists of the stories through the air with his fingers. He’s so expressive in his retelling that even you are captivated. The battle with the Krayt Dragon is a feat you’re well versed in. You were there that day, by his side in the face of certain death, but Din’s storytelling is so ensnaring that you find yourself listening intently anyway.

A million questions fly his way, not all about his trysts in Mos Eisley. They ask about his past, about the Mandalorians, about the armor he wears. Everything under the sun is up for question and Din doesn’t hesitate to answer. Of course, it doesn’t take much for the entire thing to devolve into an all-out brawl of play-fighting. One of the boys asks which of them is the strongest and it all goes down from there.

You watch in amusement as Din doesn’t even budge under their three-person attack, handling their antics with ease. The air is filled with squeals of delight as he ‘fights’ back, knocking them into the soft grass with deceptively gentle pushes. It really is quite the sight: a towering Mandalorian, the very image of intimidation, easily slinging a kid over each shoulder and jostling them around until they’re dizzy and fitful with giggles. The smile on his face is so bright and real that it makes your heart ache. You find yourself overcome with a realization that consumes you entirely.

Din is going to be an amazing father.

You’ve always known, of course, but this little scene only makes it more real. You can already imagine it. Din’s huge hands cradling a tiny baby, a little one with his deep brown eyes. The sound of his voice whispering promises of love and protection. Din asking you to teach him how to properly do their hair and being so proud when he does it well. The image of him with a toddler on his hip, the both of them messy from sleep and barely awake. Waking up to the sounds of them roughhousing in the living room. Your heart swells and bursts at the very thought that one day, this is what your life will look like - only the kids will be yours.

“Alright, alright, you little womp rats. It’s getting late.” Din grouses, eliciting a chorus of whines that beg him not to send them home. “Hey, the only way you all will be strong enough to fight a Krayt Dragon someday is if you eat your dinner and get a good night’s rest.”

That seems to quell most of their complaints. He’s a natural and it takes your damn breath away. Din drags himself to his feet and watches as the group disperses, their little feet kicking up dust as they rush home. It isn’t until the last of the children disappear from his sight that he turns to find you leaning against the porch railing, watching him fondly. He just shoots you that smile, the lopsided grin that sends your heart aflutter. Combined with his messy curls and the undeniable happiness in his bright eyes, and you’re ready to marry the man all over again. He leans against the opposite side of the porch, his hands brushing yours as he looks up at you.

“Everything okay, cyare?” He asks.

“Everything is perfect.” You reassure him and bend over the railing to kiss him softly.

One day.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you

198 notes · View notes

jojolymes · 1 year

Text

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐒; three

࿔*:･ﾟ iii.

next: ࿔*:･ﾟ iv. | table of contents

THE AIR was unbearably tense as you swallowed hard, hands fiddling with the other beneath the table. In your defense, after almost a year and a half of isolation, talking only to your drugged-up parents, it was pretty hard to talk to someone. Especially someone who was still only an acquaintance. What were you supposed to say anyway?

"Hey, thanks for saving me from the Needle Devil. Sorry I pissed myself I kind of thought I was going to die. But like you're a pretty cool guy and you're actually really good-looking and if you weren't obviously in love with your boss— or our boss now I guess— I would probably ask you out on a date. I get it though, since, y'know, being a devil hunter is pretty hard..."

You swept the thought away and instead coughed into your fist, looking over at the wall beside you stiffly. Yeah, there was no way you were going to say anything remotely close to that. Maybe if you were lucky, the waitress would come over and say something that would let you jump into easy conversation.

"Spit it out."

"Okay, sorry."

Your cheeks flared with embarrassment as you looked back over at Aki, chewing your lip nervously. He looked (understandably) pissed off— arms crossed tightly across his chest as he waited for you to finally say something that wasn't completely stupid. It was almost condescending. A sharp puff of air left your lips and you practically deflated into your seat, looking at Aki from beneath your eyelashes.

"So, uh," you hesitated as your brow furrowed. Might as well get the hardest questions out of the way first, "my parents... they're dead right?" Aki looked slightly taken aback, almost as if he was surprised that you had jumped to such a topic. At the same time, he had this look in his eyes, one you were sure you had spotted at some point within the span of your sticking around him.

"...yes," Aki replied, leaving a breath of stillness between his words, "we found your parents in the kitchen after the Needle Devil appeared that second time. They were... far beyond saving." You clenched your jaw, fingers wrapping tightly around the fabric of your pants. You really shouldn't have expected any better.

"Oh... okay." You weren't sure if you could say much else on the topic. But one thing you needed to know for sure was why the Needle Devil had chosen you in the first place.

"The Needle Devil," you swallowed thickly, hands trembling at the mere thought of it, "Miss Makima said I made a contract with it but that makes no sense. I'm afraid of needles. Why did it choose me to make a contract with?"

"That's what we were hoping to find out," Aki stated simply, "see, just as Miss Makima said, the Needle Devil is incredibly powerful. On top of that, for almost three decades now, the Needle Devil has had an exclusive contract with one of the strongest devil hunters in the precinct." You tilted your head— if it had a contract with such a strong person, then why choose you?

"I..." You wracked your memory to come up with an explanation, anything to rationalize it all. But you could remember nothing but the terrifying words that slipped from the devil's mouth before everything went dark. "I don't remember much," you began slowly, "I don't even remember walking into my house. Just that there was blood and my parents said we had a guest... but they weren't my parents- they were..."

Your stomach lurched and you bit back the urge to vomit, bringing the back of your hand to your lips. You didn't dare look at Aki, ashamed of your fear. Your friends had always called it irrational after all. Despite it all, you swallowed harshly and continued your sentence.

"Their heads- their heads were like syringes. But they acted just like they used to back when I was younger... so it had to be them, right? A-Anyways, after that, I asked what it wanted and it said it wanted to make a contract. Next thing I knew, you and Miss Himeno showed up."

There was a beat of silence and you forced yourself to look at Aki just as the waitress appeared, placing your food down. You gave the waitress a quick smile and she did the same before walking away, leaving you both in awkward silence once more. With nothing else to do, you grabbed your fork, going to dig in when you stopped yourself.

What if there was something in it? It wouldn't be hard to put some sort of drugs in your food without you knowing. Things like edibles existed for a reason. You grew queasy at the sight and pushed your plate away, turning to instead take a sip of your drink. What if there was stuff in there too? Your hand retracted back to its place on your lap and you furrowed your brow, looking at the floor beside your table.

"Are you not going to eat?" Aki asked bluntly as your cheeks burned, forcing yourself to grab your fork once more. Your food would be fine. There was nothing wrong with it. You didn't register how your hand shook when you stabbed through a piece of food and brought it toward yourself. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn't open your mouth. Aki raised a brow and you simply laughed.

It was a burst of laughter that sounded almost unnatural as you let your fork drop down to your plate, ignoring the way your hunger clawed at your stomach, begging for something to satiate it. How long had it been since you ate a proper meal? The last thing you remembered eating was something from the convenience store that you had made sure was sealed. Even then you had only taken a few bites before rushing to your graduation ceremony.

"Sorry, I must have lost my appetite," you muttered just as your stomach growled loudly, making you grimace. Aki stared, almost studying you, as you fidgeted in your seat, ears on fire. Of course, your stomach had to growl. The clatter of silverware across from you made you flinch and you cursed your pathetic nature. He had gone through the trouble of bringing you here and you ended up looking ungrateful.

"Here, let's switch," Aki began, making you straighten up. He gave you no time to react and grabbed your food, replacing it with his. You noticed there were pieces of pancake missing and you deducted he had eaten some. If he had eaten it— you paused to look at him, not noticing any particularly bizarre behavior— then his food was safe. You took your fork this time, stabbed through a piece of pancake, and ate it.

It was fluffy and not overbearingly sweet, save for the smallest bit of syrup on the piece you had eaten. You could feel a smile tugging at your cheeks— it was good. It was really good. You couldn't stop yourself once you started, chowing down on the pancakes like they were your last meal. The food was so good that you had almost forgotten what you had initially planned to do. You forced yourself to put the fork down and looked at Aki who was taking a sip from his coffee.

"Um, so..." you brushed some hair behind your ear and set your hands down in your lap, "Miss Makima said I'll be working as a Devil Hunter. Is that really true?" It wasn't like you were doubting Makima, but you were really hoping it wasn't the truth. Maybe she had messed up. Though a woman like that couldn't have possibly made mistakes, ever.

"Yes. Makima has also requested that you stay with me. People with illegal contracts such as yours usually get some sort of jail time but it seems there's something about you that interests her," Aki stated with a hint of what you could only assume was jealousy. Regardless, you could really only focus on one thing he said: that you would be staying with him.

"Oh..." Your voice cracked and you cringed internally— well, now it made sense why you had been in his apartment instead of Himeno's or literally anywhere else. Still, if anything, didn't it make more sense for you to stay with her? "Is there any reason why Miss Makima chose you for me to stay with?" Aki's face flushed and he coughed into his fist before taking another sip of his coffee, averting his gaze to outside the window.

"I'm... not sure," Aki said, almost as if he wasn't telling you something (what you didn't know was that Aki had gotten a call from Makima, telling him that he was one of the few people she could trust and that she knew that he would ensure that you didn't get out of line. When Himeno asked if he had extra clothes for you to wear, Aki had been staring at the ceiling in a daze while still thinking of what Makima said).

"Well, in that case, I look forward to...um... living with you," you faltered, rubbing the crook of your neck. You scoured your mind for another question to ask so as to move past the fact that you would be staying with Aki. "So... what will I be doing? As a devil hunter that is..." You hadn't joined the devil hunting club back in your high school, too focused on keeping your failing family afloat to know what being a devil hunter entailed.

"The main goal as of right now is to gather the pieces of the Gun Devil," Aki began, brows furrowing as his hand curled tightly around his fork, "most devils have a piece or two inside of them, especially the strong ones. We need these pieces so we can find the Gun Devil and defeat it."

The Gun Devil— you had been nine when it struck, leaving waves of destruction in its path. It had completely obliterated the company your parents worked at. It had been their day off, thankfully, but the devil's attack had been too close for comfort. You could still remember how your parents stood in front of the tv for hours. You were supposed to go visit a family friend that day but it had ended with you staring out the window, listening to the endless sirens from the city.

Now that you really thought about it, the Gun Devil's attack may have been the catalyst for your parents' addiction. In the months after the attack, they had been frantic to find a job. At some point, they had been hired, but the lack of workers made sure they didn't have much time to relax. So technically, this had all been the Gun Devil's fault. Yet, despite the realization, you didn't feel the urge to seek revenge. Maybe you had come to terms with your parents' addiction.

"Is there a way you can find the devils that have the pieces? I know that the power devils have stems off of fear so-" You froze— fear. Fear. You looked at Aki with wide eyes, hoping he too had made the connection. You were afraid of needles, so afraid that you were petrified at the mere sight of them. The thought of one on the end of a syringe made you sick to your stomach until you could distract yourself with something else.

"Your fear..."

"My fear of needles makes it stronger."

Aki was too stunned when you made the connection. Too stunned to say a word when the glass behind you shattered, an amalgamation of limbs and teeth reaching for you. It seemed that you hadn't noticed either, frozen in fear at what you had discovered. Aki didn't realize how he had brought his hand up, palm covering your face while his two fingers circled the indiscernible mass behind you.

As the unknown devil writhed and screeched and slobbered toward you, Aki could vaguely make out the sound of screaming. There were civilians in the street and in the cafe that were begging for help, praying to whatever god they believed in. Aki couldn't remember a time when he did such a thing, save for the times when his parents dragged him to the temple for New Year.

Aki's index finger and pinky curled up as his middle and ring fingers touched his thumb— he closed one eye and made sure that the thing heading straight for the both of you was within the Fox Devil's range. As his lips began to move, Aki wondered if you had noticed the devil behind you yet or the minuscule shards of glass that flew past you. It was odd; he had never really cared for many people besides Himeno or Makima.

Aki figured that as much as he resisted, at some point you would join the tiny list.

"Kon."

It didn't faze Aki one bit as the Fox Devil broke through the ground behind you, biting through the devil in one fell swoop. Aki had reached over the table and pulled you forward so that you were right next to him, stumbling past the table. What he hadn't expected, however, was for the mass to shrink back into the street, still alive and kicking.

While the Fox Devil evaporated into mist, Aki heard its voice ringing in his ears. You were absolutely petrified in Aki's grasp, mouth open as if ready to scream. But there was no sound. The people in the street made up for it, screaming in a cacophony of terror. Aki had to call backup, he knew that much. But as the people yelled and died all around you both, there was no time to do such a thing.

"THE CROWD DEVIL HAS APPEARED."

#underourveinscsm #chainsaw man #csm #chainsaw man x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #denji x reader #power x reader #higashiyama kobeni x reader #angel devil x reader #beam x reader

180 notes · View notes