#and what spurred me to listen to it is i was spending time with my gf yesterday because i got the Rare Saturday Day Off

[indigo6f00ff]

ok i finally got around to listening to the Catch 22 version of Keasbey Nights and it's . it is better.

[sceletaflores]

he’s a good time, cowboy casanova!

pair: cowboy!logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 9.4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, alternate universe/no powers, swearing, drinking, smoking, probably some inaccuracies about ranch life idk i haven't been around a horse in like two years, logan working a lasso yes god, age gap (early 40s/mid 20s), THE COWBOY HAT RULE RAAAHHH, nasty dirty talk, i was so horny for kissing when i was writing this jesus, p in v, unprotected sex (do as sex ed tells you, not as i write), semi-public sex, riding, creampie, some emotional constipation cause it’s me, porn with a little too much plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: another purely self indulgent work...i just fucking love cowboys what can i say. it's practically ingrained in me by this point. logan would never dance but like who cares he's my barbie i can make him do whatever i want! kisses <3

dividers by angel @saradika-graphics!

a cowboy and the governor’s daughter walk into a barn...

The ranch is alive like you've never seen before, almost every acre lit up in celebration of your father's recent inauguration.

Twinkling lights strung around the barn's ceiling cast a warm orange glow all around you, flickering like fireflies on a summer night.

People are everywhere—laughing, mingling, drinking. Their faces both familiar and new, dressed in everything from head-to-toe denim to their Sunday best.

The lively music from the band floats through the space, couples on the makeshift dance floor twirling to the familiar twang of an acoustic guitar.

You take it all in from your spot against the wall, drink in hand as your eyes scan the room.

You did your share of mingling earlier in the evening, greeting the higher-up’s in your city with hugs and thanks.

You posed for pictures that’ll be splashed across the front pages of Monday’s paper, listened to your father’s speech as you stood by his side with a smile.

This is the first moment you've gotten to yourself since the ball started, one you've spent in content silence while enjoying the perks of an open bar.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing all by your lonesome?"

The honeyed rasp of a voice filtering in from your left paired with the jingling sound of spurs against the soft ground grabs your attention.

At first, you turn ready to greet a stray boutique or feedstore owner you may have missed earlier. You’re pleasantly surprised to see Marie sauntering towards you instead, a bright grin on her face that makes you smile right back.

Marie was one of the first people you met after moving to Texas at the beginning of your father's campaign, and you've only gotten closer since she started as a ranch hand down at Blackbird.

Her unruly red curls spill out from under her Stetson, the bouncy strands swinging in time with the white fringe of her show-shirt as she opens her arms.

"Thought you might have gotten lost in all the fancy folk," she teases, nearly crushing you with the strength of her hug.

You laugh as you hug her back, the warmth of her embrace a welcome interruption to your moment of peace and quiet. Her scent wraps around you, the familiar dust and lavender that's seeped into her clothes.

"Definitely not lost," you say, stepping back to meet her gaze. "Just taking it all in."

Marie smirks, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside you, crossing her arms as she watches the crowd.

"Sure is a good night for it," she says, glancing over at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Lookin' for anyone in particular? A nice night cap?"

You snort, taking another sip of your drink. Marie has always been more invested in your love life than you, hand picking guys from around town she deems worthy enough of your attention.

You know she means well, and it's almost as endearing as it is pesky, so you let her play matchmaker from time to time.

“I don’t need a night cap,” you laugh, shaking your head sluggishly. "I’m perfectly fine spending tonight alone."

Before Marie can respond, a stir from outside filters in. Loud cheers and hollers, hooves beating against dirt, the distinct whistle of a lasso slicing through the air.

Marie practically squeals, excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet as she peers through the barn doors. “It’s starting!”

You don’t have time to ask what ‘it’ is before she’s snatching up your wrist and turning to haul you outside.

"Marie! Where the hell are we going?" You practically trip over your own feet trying to keep up with her, your drink splashing up against the rim of your glass precariously.

Marie laughs as she pulls you out into the cool evening air, her boots crunching on the gravel as she drags you toward the commotion. “You’ll see!”

You weave through the crowd forming around the training ring, Marie’s grip still tight around your wrist as she pushes toward the front until you’re right up against the railing. 

You peer over it, eyes adjusting to the floodlights surrounding the ring, illuminating the clouds of dust kicked up by the different ranch hands perched on horses.

A few riders take turns showing off their skills, each of them in the same show-shirt as Marie, expertly swinging lassos and wrangling cattle with practiced ease.

The energy is contagious, and you find yourself smiling, soaking in the excitement pulsing through the crowd.

Marie leans closer, her voice low and laced with something knowing. “Just wait for it, honey. It’s about to get good.”

You give her a puzzled look, but she’s already grinning ear to ear, her attention fully focused on a new rider that chargers into the ring.

You follow her gaze, and your breath catches in your throat.

He rides in like he owns the place, his coal black horse cutting through the fog of dirt like a shadow, sleek and powerful beneath him.

A black Stetson sits low over his face, casting shadows that only add to the rugged allure of his jawline, a jawline that could cut glass. 

As he leans forward to grab the rope tossed at him by one of the other riders, his muscles flex, a kind of strength that isn’t there for show, but for real work.

His show-shirt is stretched over the width of his chest, over broad shoulders that look like they were carved from stone, made for lifting hay bales and hundred pound feed bags.

The sleeves rolled up to expose forearms dusted with dark hair and more than a few scars. His gloved hands rest on the reins with an ease that tells you he’s more than familiar on a saddle.

He’s not the flashiest rider, but there’s something commanding in his presence as he races his horse towards the steer, lasso circling high above his head.

He doesn’t even look like he’s trying to put on a show—he is the show.

Marie’s grip on your wrist tightens, and she leans in again, her voice loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

“That’s Logan,” she says, practically glowing with pride. ”He’s the foreman down at Blackbird, might just be the best damn cowboy in the whole state.”

You blink, hardly able to tear your gaze away from Logan, who’s riding like he’s part of the horse, one seamless, commanding figure cutting through the chaos in the ring. 

His focus is sharp, and as his lasso snaps through the air, catching the steers back leg in a clean loop, the crowd erupts in applause.

A satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, a glimmer of amusement flashing beneath the shadow of his hat.

Marie nudges you, her grin widening as she catches the look on your face. “Told you he was worth watching,” she teases, winking. “And he’s got a bit of a reputation for bein’ hard to impress—one of those strong, silent types, y’know?”

You roll your eyes, but your heart beats a little faster as Logan turns his horse, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before it lands on you.

Your cheeks warm under his stare, trying to subtly make out the different features of his face from this far. His head tilts just slightly, as if he’s sizing you up from across the ring.

For a second, it feels like the two of you are the only ones there. The cheers from the audience dulling into white noise all around you, everything in your peripheral blurring together—everything but him.

“He’s good…” Your voice has gone light, airy as you watch Logan turn his horse back to lead the steer into the ring's stall with all the others. 

Marie's grin only widens as she leans against the post, clever eyes trained on the side of your face. "You still 'perfectly find spendin' the night alone'?"

You don't respond, too busy watching the strong muscle of Logan's back ripple under his shirt as he rides out of the ring—to your complete dismay—almost as fast as he rode in.

You're only snapped out of your trance when you can't make out his silhouette any longer. The crowd around you dissipates, filtering back into the barn while you're stuck to the fence straining your eyes for broad shoulders and a black cowboy hat.

“Show’s over, sugar.” Marie says with a snort, gently tugging you away from the post. “Come on, let’s get you another drink.”

You lost your company ten minutes ago, but you knew you didn’t stand a chance when Remy found the two of you huddled at the bar.

Sheepishly coming up to Marie with his hat in his hand, pressing it to his chest as he asked her for a dance.

You waved them off with a smile, assuring Marie you'd be fine on your own for a couple songs.

It gave you a chance to step out for some fresh air, to lean against the side of the barn and sneak a cigarette while your father was busy dancing with the town's best real estate agent money can buy.

You take a slow drag, eyes peering up at the stars so you can trace the constellations. You think that this might just be your favorite part of the move. 

Nevada has never been known for its clear skies, you can count the times you’d been able to see the stars on one hand.

You still remember the first night after you settled into your new house, the stress of the move and your fathers inauguration weighed on you enough that sleep was hard to come by. 

You finally crept out of bed around three, climbing over your balcony to perch yourself on the roof, carton of cigarettes and a lighter shoved in the waistband of your shorts.

The first time you looked out over the horizon was like stepping into a whole new world.

The stars had never felt so close, hung through the air like diamonds. So bright against the vast nothingness that stretched out beyond the too-big ranch house on the too-many acres the state appointed you and your father. 

It was like you could almost reach out and touch them, pluck them from the sky like fruit off a tree.

You’d been used to the city lights, the constant hum of noise that swallowed up the stars, but here? It was different. 

The air smelled of dust and rainwater, and the silence was louder than anything you’d ever known.

You remember the deep, quiet hum of the night, almost like it was waiting for you to catch up, to adjust to the new rhythm of the world you were suddenly a part of.

It was a moment of peace, a brief stillness from the mess crowding your head, and you found comfort in that isolation.

You take another long drag, letting the smoke curl around your fingers, the orange embers glowing bright against the darkness.

As the faint scent of tobacco mixes with the cool air, you find that same sense of peace returning, the same stillness settling over your chest.

You tilt your head back to rest on the barn, eyes fluttering shut as you let the crisp breeze lull you into its serenity.

"Those'll kill you, y'know."

A voice comes from just over your shoulder, warm and low. A smooth drawl ringing out from the shadows.

You slip your eyes open, expecting to see one of the older ranch hands or maybe even a city official looking to lecture the governor's kid. 

It takes you a second, but the black Stetson and squared shoulders register quickly enough—Logan. 

You nearly swallow your tongue, eyes widening as you take in the way he leans against the barn a few feet away from you. You don’t know how long he’s been standing there, watching you. 

The moonlight dances across his face, highlighting the rough line of his jaw and the confident tilt of his smirk.

“I didn’t think cowboys were one’s for giving lectures.” You’re shocked at the stillness of your voice, the beat of your heart picking up the tiniest bit.

Logan’s smirk only widens as he pushes off the wall, gravel crunching under his boots as he makes his way over to you, slow and deliberate. He’s still dressed in the same outfit from before, a lasso still coiled in one hand.

He comes to a stop next to you, leaning his shoulder just inches from yours. "Not usually. But when I see a pretty girl puffin' away on somethin' that's bound to ruin her, I make an exception."

You smirk, lifting the cigarette to your lips again just to make a point, even as your pulse jumps a little under his gaze. "Guess we all have our vices.” You say, blowing out the smoke slowly, watching the way his gaze tracks its lazy drift.

Logan’s eyes trail back to yours, and you can see the color of them now that he’s closer. A mix of different greens and browns fading together, like a forest in the thick of summer.

The lightest dusting of freckles decorate the bridge of his nose, trailing along his cheeks until they disappear under his beard, a product of being out in the sun so often.

You’re struck by how pretty he is, all long lashes and red lips.

Well, pretty for a cowboy anyway.

“You plan on sharin’?”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles from your chest, brow raising skeptically. “That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Logan just shrugs, a lazy half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I reckon’ it’s rude to let a lady smoke alone.”

You huff lightly, reaching into the pocket of your dress. You flick the top of your Marlboros open, slipping a cigarette out and offering it to Logan silently. 

He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours enough to send a spark through you. It travels up your arm and all around your shoulders to seep down through your entire body, resting in your stomach to swirl through the heat simmering there.

“Got a light?” He asks, words muffled around the filter.

You roll your eyes, but reach back into your pocket regardless. Logan leans closer as you flip your zippo open, taking his hat off to cover the side of his face, blocking the flame from the lazy breeze.

Your heart stutters in your chest as he nears closer. You didn’t expect he’d want you to light it for him. You will your hand to steady as you raise the flame to the tip, holding it close enough that the small light illuminates his face.

The intoxicating mix of leather and musk invades your senses. You fight the urge to lean into it entirely, to close the gap.

When the flame flickers and catches the end of his cigarette, Logan pulls back, taking a languid drag, the embers glowing between his lips.

His eyes don't leave yours as he exhales deeply, the smoke curling from his lips in slow tendrils. You can’t tell if it’s the nicotine or the way he’s looking at you that’s making your head spin.

You break eye contact, feeling the flush creeping up your neck, and lean back against the barn to cool yourself off. Logan leans beside you, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you, just the soft crackling of cigarettes and distant music filling the space between.

Logan puts his hat back on, his voice breaking through the quiet as he does. “You’re Governor Wright’s daughter, ain't you?”

You nod slowly, exhaling another long plume of smoke. It’s still weird hearing it out loud. “I am.”

Logan hums, turning his head to face you again. The silver moonlight catching the glint in his eye.

“Saw your picture in the paper.” His gaze rakes from the top of your head, all the way down to the tips of your boots. “Looked real nice.”

The air feels heavier as Logan’s eyes travel over you, lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle, before meeting your gaze again. His eyes hold a hint of amusement, the green of them darker than before. The heat swims through you faster, stronger.

“Congratulations.” He adds, almost like an afterthought. A quick pivot to take some attention away from how his eyes swept over your body so shamelessly.

You snort before you can stop yourself. If you had a dollar for every time you’ve heard that over the past few weeks. “Yeah,” you say, kicking at some rocks near your feet. “Thank you.”

You can see the way Logan’s brow raises out of the corner of your eye, his gaze burning a hole along your profile.

“Don’t sound too excited,” he comments, exhaling lazily. “That why you’re hidin’ out here?”

You shrug, leaning back against the barn and tapping your cigarette to shake off some ash. “Maybe I just like the quiet,” you say. “Or maybe I’m avoiding another round of ‘how proud are you of your daddy’ small talk.”

Logan stays quiet, and you feel the overwhelming need to explain yourself. A need to fill the silence, like he’s some kind of magnet that soothes the truth from people.

You sigh, turning your eyes to the dark sky again. “I’m happy for my dad, of course I am but…” You trail off, searching for the right words. “It’s just a lot.”

He chuckles lightly, a low rumble that feels more real than the sounds of laughter from inside the barn. “Hell, I don’t blame you,” he says, his eyes flicking up to the stars too. “Nothin’ wrong with takin' a breather now and then.”

You both stand there in comfortable silence, the night stretching out around you, as vast and open as the sky above. You let yourself study Logan out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way he seems at ease, like he’s as much a part of this land as the grass and stars.

Finally, he looks over, and you feel that sharp gaze settle on you again. “You keep starin’ like that,” he says, a teasing note creeping into his voice, “I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re more interested in somethin' other than the stars.”

Your mouth drops open slightly, heat rushing to your ears as you search for something to say.

Logan’s smirk widens as he catches the way your breath stutters, and for a moment, the silence is thick, the air between you charged. 

You force a laugh, trying to play it off, but it’s weak, and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck again. "I—"

Back inside the barn, the band switches songs, saving you from your embarrassment. A softer melody floats through the air, slow and sweet as molasses. It’s muffled enough that it sounds almost hazy, like a soundtrack to the most wonderful dreams.

Logan turns to watch the shadows move in the light spilling through the open doors. Couples pairing off, taking to the dancefloor. All warm embraces and slow moving circles, swaying to the gentle beat.

He turns back to you, running his thumb over the coarse lasso in his hand. “Care for a dance?”

You raise your brow, skepticism written all over your face. “I don’t really do that.”

Logan doesn’t back down, tilting his head with an easy grin. “Seems like a waste not dancin’ in a dress like that.”

You can’t fight the smile that tugs your lips up, shaking your head with a quiet laugh as you peer down at the nice floral fabric of your sundress. The wind makes it swish along your sides, the flowy fabric swaying over the knee of your boots.

“Maybe another time, Logan.” You try to ignore how good his name feels rolling off your tongue.

He takes one last drag off his cigarette before he’s stubbing it out on the worn leather of his belt and slipping the butt in his jean pocket. It’s both the strangest and most endearing thing you’ve ever seen—a cowboy that refuses to litter.

“Well I’m gonna have to insist.” He crosses his arms over his chest, straining the fabric around his biceps. There’s a challenge in his eyes now, a dare.

“Oh, you’re insisting, are you?” You repeat doubtfully, lolling your head to the side languidly, your hair flowing with it. ”And how are you gonna do that?”

Logan doesn’t answer with words, just raises his arm to start twirling his lasso through the air with a smug grin. He circles once, twice, three times before a deft flick of his wrist sends the rope across the way to you. 

It slips over your shoulders, sliding down to catch on the curve of your hips.

You raise a brow, reluctant smile still playing on your lips. “Do you carry this thing with you everywhere you go?”

Logan cocks a brow, tugging on his end of the rope so it tightens around you, forcing you a step closer.

You stumble forward with a soft laugh, eyes darting up to meet Logan's. The lasso feels snug, but not tight enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he’s in control, and the thought sends a spark straight down to your core.

“You sure you don’t dance?” He tugs you a few steps closer, his smirk only deepening as he effortlessly reels you in.

You bite your lip to stifle a smile, shaking your head. “You sure are persistent, I’ll give you that.”

Logan doesn’t wait for you to say anything else, instead taking that final step forward. His grip tightens slightly on the lasso, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between you. 

You can feel the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of your dress, his chest rising and falling with each slow, deliberate breath.

“Some would say it’s my best quality,” he teases quietly, voice dropping to something lower, like gravel and velvet. “Now, you gonna fight me the whole way through, or are we gonna dance?”

You glance up at him, your chest fluttering in spite of yourself. A thousand lame excuses run through your mind, but all you can manage is a breathless laugh, the sound caught somewhere between amusement and nerves.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” you murmur, hands tentatively coming to rest on his shoulders. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Logan’s smile softens, his hand slinking around your hips to loosen the lasso, letting it slip down your legs so you can step out of it.

Big hands settle on your waist, brushing the soft fabric of your dress, sending a fresh wave of warmth through you. His touch is firm and gentle all at once, guiding you effortlessly into an easy sway.

The moment you fall into the rhythm of the music, your body moves naturally against Logan’s, and you can feel the charge between you intensify with each step.

His boots scrape against the dirt as he leads you in a slow, almost languid circle. Your feet match his without thinking, the sound of your boots in sync with the soft country tune playing from the barn.

“See? Not so bad, huh?” His voice is low, a soft whisper against the backdrop of the music.

You nod slowly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. The rough scrape of his jeans against your bare legs sends a delicious shiver skittering up your spine.

“Not so bad,” you agree, your voice quieter now, the playful edge slipping away as something deeper stirs between you.

You tilt your head up, breath catching in your chest when you find him already looking down at you. His lips quirk up slightly, but there’s a new intensity there now, something sharper than the teasing glimmer from before.

"Logan," you murmur, but your voice is barely a whisper, lost to the night air.

His free hand slides up the length of your spine, trailing along your neck until he’s cupping the side of your face. His thumb grazes your cheekbone with a gentleness you never thought men like him to be capable of.

The space between you shrinks even more as Logan dips his head, his nose brushing against yours in a featherlight touch that sends a shiver down your spine

“You gonna tell me to stop?” He murmurs, his lips so close now you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin.

Your throat works to form words, but they’re gone, stolen by the way his hands slide a fraction lower on your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

Your breath hitches again, and without thinking, you close the space, lips pressing against his, soft at first, unsure. Logan deepens it almost immediately, tugging you impossibly closer.

It’s tender–achingly so. Logan’s lips are surprisingly soft, he tastes like top-shelf whiskey and your Marlboro Golds. They mold to yours with a gentle pressure, warm and inviting. His hand on your face tilts your head slightly, angling you just right as his thumb continues to trace soft circles over your cheek.

The warmth of it spreads through you, settling low in your stomach, and you think you could stay like this the whole night, wrapped in the quiet safety of him.

All too soon, Logan’s pulling away. You whine pathetically, lips chasing his own. You’d be embarrassed if it wasn't for the pure need coursing through you.

“You were right,” he mutters lowly, running his thumb along the slick expanse of your bottom lip. “This is a hell of a lot better than dancin’.”

“Shut up.” You drag him back down by the fistfuls of his shirt, your own lips hungrily seeking out his again.

This kiss is different, something filthier, something messier. It’s like a dam breaking to let a rush of water break free, all the tension unraveling itself as you meet again.

The gentle tilt of Logan’s head changes, and when his teeth catch your bottom lip with just enough pressure, your knees feel dangerously close to buckling.

His hand slides down from your cheek, skimming your jawline before tangling into the hair at the nape of your neck. His tongue sweeps past your lips, and the taste of whiskey and smoke is heady, stronger, dizzying.

Logan’s mouth moves against yours with a confidence that makes your head spin, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You let out a soft, involuntary sound, and that only spurs him on, the hand in your hair tightening as he presses you back against the rough wood of the barn.

It digs into your body harshly, scratching at the bare skin of your shoulders and backs of your thighs. You hardly care.

Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, knocking his hat off so you can tug him closer as your tongues slide together lewdly. Logan groans into your mouth at the sting of his scalp, you can feel the rumble of it in your bones. 

His beard scratches against your chin and cheeks so deliciously that you can’t help but imagine where else it might rub your skin red and raw. The thought alone has a shudder running through you, your hips arching off the barn unconsciously.

The subtle grind when your hips slot together is enough to have Logan’s grip tightening around your hips. His fingers flexing where they’re still tangled in your hair. You moan softly at the hard length tenting his jeans, pressing insistently against your lower stomach, big even trapped in the rough denim.

Your body reacts to the thick plane of heat almost viscerally, your pussy aching with the need to be filled.

When you finally break apart, it’s only because neither of you can breathe.

Logan pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths that match your own. His pupils are blown wide, dark and intense. You dazedly think back to the sleek coat of his horse, black as ink and shining under the rings lights. 

His lips are an angry red and slightly swollen, glistening in the pale moonlight, and the sight of him—disheveled and wanting—sends another wave of heat blooming through your core to leak wet and sticky in your panties.

“Your daddy would shoot me between the eyes if he caught us like this, darlin’.”

You hide your pleased smile in the crook of his neck, trailing soft kisses from his jaw to his ear. “Then we should find somewhere a little more private, shouldn’t we?”

Logan groans, hands bunching the fabric of your dress in tight fists as your lips brush against the lobe of his ear with every word, teasing. “I reckon’ we should.”

You step back, fingers trailing down to toy with the shiny belt buckle sitting pretty on his waist. “Lead the way.”

Logan smirks, tongue swiping along his bottom lip. “Yes ma’am.”

He bends to grab his hat from where it lays at his feet, pushing his hair away from his eyes before dropping it back on his head. His hand finds the small of your back, turning to lead you away from the barn.

You try not to notice how well it fits. 

Turns out, ‘somewhere a little more private’ is just another barn. This one filled with stray mountains of hay and empty horse stalls instead of the watchful eyes of partygoers.

You can’t bring yourself to care, not when Logan’s got you pressed to the closed door, his hands roaming down your body like he’s memorizing every curve, every dip. 

“Christ, you’re somethin’ else,” Logan mutters, his voice thick with want as his lips ghost along the side of your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that make your knees shake.

His breath is hot against your ear when he adds, “Bet you’re soaked for me already, aren’t you, darlin’?”

The rough pads of his fingers drag along your bare thighs as he hikes your dress higher, the fabric bunching at your waist. The cool air kisses your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat between your legs as his palms knead the soft flesh. 

You bite your lip to stifle the embarrassing moan that threatens to escape, but he catches the sound anyway, pressing a cocky grin to the side of your cheek.

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me now.” His hand slides between your thighs, calloused fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. 

The low groan that escapes him when he feels how wet you are is pure sin, vibrating against your neck as his fingers trace over the damp cotton. “Fuck, barely touched you and you’re already drippin’ for me.”

“Logan—” You start, but your words dissolve into a sharp gasp as he hooks a finger beneath the fabric, pulling it to the side.

The first drag of his finger through your slick folds has your head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. A high moan falls from your parted lips, embarrassing and needy as your thighs clench around his wrist.

Logan just hums, pressing a kiss to the corner of your slack mouth. “Is she hurtin’ real bad, baby?” he asks softly, his thumb pressed over your pulsing clit. “Just gotta give you some sweet kisses and she gets all worked up, huh?”

Your only response is a breathless whimper, your fingers clutching at his shoulders for stability as he teases you with slow, torturous circles around your clit.

His thick pointer finger slides through the slick seam of your pussy, catching on your dripping entrance before it’s sinking to the knuckle in one slow thrust. 

You arch into him, your hips rocking instinctively to take him deeper, desperate for more. His other hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek as his gaze locks onto yours. 

The intensity in his eyes makes your stomach flip, your breath hitching as he watches every little expression cross your face.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he coaxes, sliding his finger in and out at a maddeningly slow pace. “Look at you, so fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ my fingers so good, baby.”

“Please,” you gasp, the need in your voice making his smirk widen.

“Please what?” he teases, curling his finger inside you and grinning when you nearly sob at the sensation. “Gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

You whimper, thighs trembling as you manage to stutter out, “Kiss…kiss me.”

Logan groans, brows twitching up like that wasn’t what he was expecting to fall from your slick, kiss bitten lips. He doesn’t waste a second, leaning in to capture your mouth with his in a kiss that’s equal parts desperate and bruising. 

His lips part against yours, tongue sliding in to meet yours, hot and eager, as he sinks a second finger inside your clenching hole. 

The kiss deepens, becoming a rhythm of its own, each stroke of his tongue matching the languid thrust of his fingers.

Logan's lips move hungrily against yours, his pace never faltering even as his fingers curl inside you, searching, teasing, until—there.

The moment he brushes against that spot, your back arches off the barn wall, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat. He grins against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to murmur, “There she is.”

The slick sound of his fingers pumping into you fills the quiet barn, mingling with your soft, breathy whimpers. His thumb circles your clit with devastating precision, each pass of his fingers inside you coaxing your body closer to the edge.

“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, honey,” he groans, his voice rough and dripping with praise. “Can feel how close you are. Bet you’re gonna fall apart for me so pretty, aren’t ya?”

You shake your head, your breath coming in soft pants. “No.” Your hand snakes down to his wrist, halting his movements. “Wanna finish with you inside me.”

Logan stills, his breath catching as your words hang heavy in the air. His fingers stay buried inside you, the slight curl of them making your thighs quake as his eyes search yours.

The fire there burns hotter now, feral and barely restrained. 

“Yeah?” The raw hunger in his voice makes your pulse spike. “You want me inside you, huh? Wanna feel me stretch you open, baby?”

You nod eagerly, your chest heaving as his words fan the flames of your desire. 

“Alright,” he mutters darkly, voice gone low and smoky. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Logan slips his fingers from the warm grip of your pussy, the sudden emptiness stealing all the air from your lungs. You miss the stretch almost immediately, clenching around nothing with a soft moan.

He lifts his hand between you, his fingers glistening with your wetness in the dim light. “Look at that,” he says softly, almost in awe, before slipping his fingers into his mouth and groaning at the taste.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your cheeks burning at the sight. 

Logan catches your gaze, a wicked smirk spreading across his face as he leans in close. “C’mon,” he whispers softly against the skin of your neck, hands slipping around the backs of your thighs and squeezing gently. “Up.”

You hitch your legs up around his waist, a soft breath escaping you at the way he lifts you with ease, like you weigh nothing.

You can’t help but run your hands over the thick muscle of his biceps as he walks you further into the barn, lips trailing wet kisses along where his shirt’s top button popped open, exposing more of his tan skin to your greedy eyes.

Logan falls back against a knocked over bale of hay, you feel the hot length of his hard cock grinding over the slick fabric of your panties as he positions you over his lap.

You waste no time, stray pieces of hay digging into your knees as your trembling hands reach for his buckle. Your fingers brush over the cool metal as you fumble sliding the worn leather through his belt loops.

Logan just watches you, leaning back on his forearms with a smirk—cool as ever.

Once his belt is undone and his zipper dragged down, you shove at his jeans, watching with a mix of anticipation and desire as his cock springs free, thick and heavy and already leaking for you. 

You’ve heard the expression ‘hung like a horse’ countless times. You always thought it was a gross exaggeration, until now.

Logan’s hand glides down his stomach to start stroking himself lazily, his eyes never leaving yours. “Been hard since the second I laid eyes on you tonight. Could barely keep my hands to myself, watchin’ you all dolled up like that. Drove me fuckin’ crazy.”

Your mouth waters with the need to taste, eyes tracking the thick line of pre-come leaking from his flushed tip. 

The phantom ache in your jaw almost has you dropping to your stomach right there, but you know that your time here is limited, and you need Logan inside of you more than anything.

You lean back, lifting your legs so you can shimmy your soaked panties down and off, tossing them behind you haphazardly the same way you tossed his belt.

His eyes are locked onto yours as you crawl back towards him, situating yourself over his lap all over again. You take a steadying breath as you reach for his cock, nearly moaning at the heft of it in your hand, at the near scalding touch of his silky skin against your palm.

“Hang on, baby.” Logan’s hands fall to your hips, stopping you just as the tip of his cock brushes against your dripping pussy. “You wanna ride, you gotta look the part.”

He drags his hands lower, calloused palms rough against the soft skin of your thighs. It’s enough to make you shiver, hips twitching down with the desperate need to be filled.

“Got the boots,” he murmurs idly, thumbs sliding along the back of your thighs. “Just need the hat.”

Logan reaches up to grab his hat by the crown, pulling it off his head to drop it on yours.

You left out a soft breath, feeling the worn felt settle on the top of your head, still warm from his own.

It’s too big, slipping down to shadow your eyes. Logan’s gaze darkens as he adjusts it, tipping it back just enough to frame your face.

“Much better,” he says, flicking the brim once before his hands fall back to your hips. “Alright cowgirl, give it to me good.”

The words shoot straight to your core, igniting something wild and reckless inside you.

You bite your lip, spurred on by the way his hands knead the meat of your hips. Not forcing or pushing, just two steady weights as you slowly start to sink down.

It's nearly torturous, but in the best way possible. The stretch of each inch a pleasant burn as your hips slot against his after what feels like an eternity.

“Fuck.” Logan grits out, his hands tightening on your hips as you settle, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the overwhelming fullness. 

Your body trembles, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you slowly begin to move, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles.

Logan’s eyes track every movement, darkened with need, a quiet groan slipping from him as his hands slide lower, gripping your ass, urging you to pick up the pace.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “Takin’ it all so good.”

His praise only encourages you, and you lift yourself up before sinking back down, your hands gripping the scratchy fabric of his shirt for leverage.

The feeling of him filling you up, stretching you with every downward movement, makes your head swim, the pressure building in your core.

The barn is filled with the sounds of skin slapping together lewdly, with the wet gush of your pussy leaking around the base of his cock messily. It has your ears burning, shame and arousal a heady mix in your lower belly.

Logan’s hips start to rise from the barn floor, snapping up to meet yours with every bounce. You can feel him deeper like this, brushing against places that make your legs shake with pleasure. 

You’re dangerously close to the edge already, a mess from all the teasing earlier. But from the way Logan’s muscles flex and tense beneath you, you can tell he is too.

“Goddamn,” he growls, his hands moving to grip your thighs, helping you bounce on top of him impossibly faster. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby, so fucking perfect. Don’t stop.”

His words make your head spin, the filthy praise sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. You can’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

Your hands scramble for the front of his shirt, tugging and pulling until it’s loose enough to show off the toned muscle of his chest.

You rake your nails through the dark hair decorating his skin, hardly paying any attention to the brand burned into the skin across his left pec.

"Tell me how it feels," he groans, his voice dark and commanding. "Tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel."

"So good," you manage to gasp, your voice breaking as he grinds against that perfect spot inside you. "Logan, I—"

“You’re close,” he rasps, his grip on your hip tightening as he drives into you harder. “I can feel you, baby. So fuckin’ close. Gonna come for me, aren’t ya? Gonna milk my cock like a good girl?”

You’re too far gone to answer, your body trembling as the coil in your stomach clenches, tighter and tighter. Your head lolls back to the ceiling, eyes fluttering shut as you near the edge.

"C’mon honey," Logan groans, his thumb finding your clit again, circling it in time with his thrusts. “Come for me, let it all fuckin’ out.”

You're helpless to deny him, the thick stretch of his cock paired with the gentle pressure of his thumb on your clit tightening your body like a bowstring threatening to snap.

 “Logan—oh God—Logan!” Your orgasm crashes over you, leaving you trembling and gasping as your walls shake around him.

Logan’s hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as he groans low in his throat. “Goddamn,” he growls, his voice wrecked. “So fuckin’ perfect, squeezin’ me so tight—fuck—”

With a few more rough thrusts, he buries himself as deep as he can go, his body going rigid against yours as he finds his own release, groaning your name like it’s the only word he knows.

You slump onto him gracelessly, your body spent and trembling as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His cock jumps and pulses inside you, sending little aftershocks through your sensitive core as you feel the slick spray of his come painting your walls.

The rough fabric of his shirt feels oddly comforting on the overheated skin of your cheek as you rest your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath.

The brand catches your eye again, more pronounced now that the wiry hair dusted along his chest lays flush, slick with a thin sheen of sweat.

You raise your hand, gently tracing over the raised skin, feeling the rough texture under your fingertips. A curved ‘X’ scarred right over his heart. 

The same ‘X’ that was embroidered on the front of Marie’s shirt, that hangs above the doors of the very barn you lay in, that’s scattered all throughout the property.

You read once that not all cowboys choose the brand, only the most loyal to the ranch. A kind of fierce loyalty that knows no bounds, that has no limits—it may be the only loyalty most will ever know.

You think back to your grandmother sitting you down at her weathered kitchen table a few days before your father and you made the move. The stern talking to she gave you felt silly at the time, useless information that you’d never actually need.

Now that you're here, her words ring in your ears for the first time in months, blaring and unavoidable.

“Don’t go and get mixed up in any cowboy business, honey. They’ll never love you more than the life, you’ll always be in the rearview mirror.”

Logan takes your hand in his, bringing it from his chest to his lips for a quick kiss before pointedly lowering it to his jean clad thigh. You can feel the way his fingers flex around your wrist, telling.

You swallow hard, the air in the barn suddenly feeling thick and heavy.

You're pushing yourself to your feet before you even realize what you're doing, ignoring the dull ache as his spent cock slips from inside you.

Logan hisses at the sensation, but he's pushing himself to his feet all the same. You're dying to sneak a peek at the look on his face, but you refuse to turn to him.

Maybe out of shame, maybe out of fear for what you might find if you do.

You straighten the wrinkled fabric of your dress, trying in vain to make yourself look as half as presentable as you did before walking into this barn.

The distant sound of a zipper being tugged up and the whisper of denim against denim catches your attention. Your eyes flick to the doors, your brain going a million miles a minute as you consider your options.

You could always beat him to it. You could walk out right now and pretend this never happened, avoid Blackbird like the plague for the rest of your fathers political career.

You doubt you'd ever see Logan outside these fences, it would be so easy to forget.

You shift on your feet, lip caught between your teeth. The sweet ache between your legs only matches the one in growing your chest, all those good feelings sour at the thought of walking away.

Against your better judgment, you turn back to him. 

Logan’s already looking at you, hands busy with slipping his belt back into place.

You’ve always been good at reading people, at gauging what they might be feeling, but as your eyes scan along the flushed skin of his face, you find yourself unable to describe what you see swirling in his eyes.

“When will I see you again?” It’s weak, barely a whisper. You want to kick yourself for sounding so small, for getting so caught up in a man you hardly know.

Logan lets out a soft breath, hands coming to rest on his hips as he searches for something to say. “Whenever you have a reason to I reckon'.”

The words hang heavy in the air between you.

His answer is honest, unpolished—just like him. Something about it hits you deeper than you expect, a bittersweet sting that tightens your chest.

It’s not a perfect answer, but it’s something. 

You try to stomp down all the feelings of hope filling your mind, pointedly ignoring the eruption of butterflies in your stomach.

“Well if that’s the case,” you say slowly, eyes never leaving Logan’s as you step closer. “Then I guess you better keep these.”

You reach around his waist to slip your panties in the back pocket of his jeans, patting the denim a few times for good measure before you step away again.

“Gives you a reason to come see me again, cowboy.”

Logan chuckles, soft and sweet as he shakes his head bemusedly. He raises his hand, gently taking his hat from your head to drop it back on his own.

“You’re really somethin’ else,” he mutters, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, the gesture tender in its unexpectedness.

You let out a shaky breath, heart pounding in your chest, and for a moment, everything feels raw.

Too raw. Like you're teetering on the edge of something dangerous and intoxicating, something you’re not sure you’re ready to handle.

You let your gaze drop to the floor, biting the inside of your cheek as you resist the urge to say something else, to push the moment further.

Instead, you turn, taking a slow step toward the barn doors.

Just before you reach them, you hear him again, his voice steady, but there’s something in it that makes you pause, hands lingering on the doorframe.

"Don’t be a stranger, alright?" he calls after you.

You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes one last time. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: lowkey want to make this a series...like this was so fun to write and i have a few more ideas...let me know chickens <3

[btsvt-bar]

Fuckboy!Wonwoo going for shy!reader since he assumes they’re a virgin, just to find out reader is an absolute freak and rides him until he passes out

wonwoo bias wrecked me so much after the follow again concerts that this just came to life on it’s own. i wrote the freshman experience based off of how it is on my country and i loved writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too! ♡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

fuckboy!wonwoo who’s your game design course sunbaenim. he contradicts all paradigms about nerds, because he’s hot as fuck.

fuckboy!wonwoo who spots you on the first day of classes. he sees you walking past him in your tiny skirt and "I ♡ games" tshirt and finds you adorable.

fuckboy!wonwoo who fights with other veterans to keep you as his freshman. he loses the argument to Nayeon, the course’s students’ president, and sulks for the rest of the day.

fuckboy!wonwoo who hits on you at the bar that night. everyone’s whispering about the two of you.

since Nayeon’s done her job and warned you before hand about Wonwoo’s reputation, you turn him down nicely because you hate the attention. of course, it only spurs him on.

fuckboy!wonwoo who tried to befriend you as a way of getting into your pants (well, he’s a fuckboy after all!).

a couple months after, once he realizes you’re actually really funny and outgoing when you feel comfortable enough, he finds himself enjoying the time you two spend together.

fuckboy!wonwoo who becomes obsessed with you. he convinces himself it’ll fade away once he fucks you. but then he finds himself getting so fucking jealous when he hears you calling Seungcheol your “oppa”. he knows Cheol has a thing for you — your innocent, virgin like persona is driving every male student wild. so he feels his blood boiling when you touch his hyung’s bicep as you smile sweetly and bat your eyelashes.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really annoyed when his friends mock him, claiming he lost his charms and won’t get to fuck you like he would do to any other girl.

"it’s up to Coups Hyung to pop her cherry." Jeonghan holds back a laugh as Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

Like hell we will! he thinks.

fuckboy!wonwoo who tries to sleep with someone else to get off and forget about you. but it doesn’t work and he gets more frustrated than before.

fuckboy!wonwoo who offers to help you with your class project and goes to your shared dorm room on a Saturday night. you open the door and he holds his breath when he sees your super princess peach cropped shirt.

"what? it’s my favorite game" you state, with a pout on your lips, when he stares for too long.

"oh, nothing. it’s a good one." he babbles, averting his eyes from your chest. your shirt was probably old, since he could see the outline of your nipples through the white fabric. he swallows nervously, trying to shake the image of your pebbled nipples off of his head.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets distracted by your short sleeping shorts, since they do the bare minimum to cover you up.

"Nonu, are you listening?" you complain as you shake him. his eyes are out of focus when he meets your gaze. "earth to Nonu! what are you thinking about?"

fuckboy!wonwoo who bites his lower lip and stares at you.

"i’m thinking about you, cutie." he flirts. usually, you would blush and avert your eyes. so it’s a shocker for him when your Bambi eyes transform into a siren gaze.

“what about me?" you whisper, inching closer to his face. "is it about the ways you’d like to fuck me?" that’s all it takes for Wonwoo to take off his glasses and crash his lips into yours.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really excited and surprised when he finds out you’re not a virgin. in fact, you’re a total freak in bed. he feels a bit fooled since you got everyone believing you’re a pure angel, but he isn’t about to complain.

not when you’re jumping up and down on his dick with your pretty boobs on full display for him.

fuckboy!wonwoo who fucks up into you with all his might, thinking that he could die happy buried in your heat like that.

you’re riding him so good, your hips grinding against his and your hands clawing at his chest. your lips are red and swollen from kissing, your head’s thrown back in pleasure. you let out quiet ah-ah-ahs that enter Wonwoo’s ears and spin down his body directly to his dick.

fuckboy!wonwoo who nearly blows his load when you ask him to choke you.

his big hand presses on your throat with minimum force, but you demand more pressure and he complies.

fuckboy!wonwoo who circles your clit and sucks your nipples to help you cum. and when you do, he follows shortly after, emptying three months worth of blue balls in the condom and nearly passes out.

fuckboy!wonwoo who cuddles you and realizes he’s been tricked.

"i’m not complaining, but i thought you were a virgin."

you laugh, turning around to face him. "and the resident fuckboy gets played." pride bubbles in your chest. Wonwoo smiles at you, his brown eyes still a bit glazed over from his high.

"i liked being played" he admits with a shy smile.

fuckboy!wonwoo who refuses to go back to his own room. thank goodness your roommate is not coming back for the night.

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© btsvt-bar, 2024

m.list ♡

[pathologicalreid]

wake me from this dream | s.r.

in which you're struggling to come to terms with the kiss between Spencer and Cat, and you've finally reached your breaking point

margotober

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: cat adams, spoilers for 15x6 "date night", cheating word count: 1.44k a/n: rah rah rah not really sure how i feel about this one tbh!! let me know what you think because i'm my own worst enemy. this was a request so i hope i can at least appease the requester!!

Everything felt different. You had never felt so out of place somewhere you should fit in like a piece of a puzzle, but you had lost so many pieces of this puzzle that you didn’t think it would ever be put together again.

The sheets on Spencer’s bed – that you had picked out – were so rough that they grated against your skin, but they didn’t always feel that way. You tried so hard, tried to fall back into the rhythm that you felt with Spencer before his date, but there were so many befores with Spencer that you were starting to lose track of them all.

Maybe you just didn’t get it. You didn’t get it the way the members of the BAU did. You closed your eyes and you saw your boyfriend kissing Cat Adams – someone you thought was in the past. 

So, you went back to routine, spending most of your time at Spencer’s apartment, you slept next to him at night, and everything looked the same, but it all felt wrong. Your relationship had once again been spurred into a state of limbo and you were beginning to think this was the one that you couldn’t come back from.

Eyeing your clothing on the floor where it had been haphazardly discarded upon your return from Rossi’s party, you sighed, listening to the running water in the shower as Spencer cleansed the day away. He had offered for you to join him, but you opted for a later shower, not interested in sharing the warmth of the water. Looking at the bathroom door, cracked open to let steam out, you slipped out of bed and crouched to pull your clothes off the floor before opening the drawer of the things you kept here and putting on something more comfortable than the dress you had worn to dinner.

You took the inside of your cheek between your molars before taking another glance back at the bathroom door and pulling on an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt. In your haste to get ready for tonight, you had forgotten to bring different shoes, so you looked more than a little disheveled as you slipped on your heels. Then again, maybe passersby would just assume it was another night in the District of Columbia.

Quietly, you closed the door to Spencer’s apartment, locking the door behind you and allowing your fingertips to linger on the handle. Finally convincing yourself to head out, you raked a hand through your hair and made your way out to your car. When would he notice you had gone? Would he mind? Would he call?

Turning the key in the ignition, you sighed as the cool air blew through the vents of your car, and without another thought, you checked your rearview mirror and drove home.

It felt like a rather unceremonious end to your relationship with Spencer, the person who everyone was expecting you to be with forever. You just never expected forever to have an expiration date.

This couldn’t be the end, though. You didn’t want yourself to be another victim at the hands of a hitwoman, but that was just what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

Your fears all came to mind while you dragged yourself through your shower routine, scrubbing every inch of your body as you considered your options. Without the presence of your boyfriend, you thought about what you really wanted.

You didn’t even hear the knocking until you got out of the shower. At first, you thought it was one of your neighbors, but as you pulled on clean pajamas, you realized it was your door. You checked out the peephole to see Spencer, hair still wet, looking agitated. You had done that to him.

Opening the door, your stomach flipped as he looked at you with an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes, “You just left.” He shrugged, the misery in his voice was made plain and it hurt you like a knife to the chest.

“I-“ you started, quickly snapping your mouth shut. What were you going to say? I didn’t mean to hurt you – but, hadn’t you? Hadn’t you intended on walking away?

Spencer held his hand up, signaling for you to stop, “I had been starting to wonder if you resented me.”

His words hit you like a strike across the face, “What?” Your question came out as light as a breath, there was a litany of emotions that you felt for Spencer, but resentment was far from any of them. He must have come right away, droplets of water still fell from his hair with every slight movement.

“I put your family in danger,” he answered as if that completely answered your question.

You frowned, “Cat and Juliet put my family in danger,” you corrected.

Spencer shook his head dismissively, “And neither of them would even know who you are if it wasn’t for me.”

Your lips parted, looking for the right words to put him at ease, “I don’t care about that.”

He furrowed his brows, obviously confused at your statement, “You don’t?”

“No,” you informed him, “I mean, I cared at the time because my family was in danger.”

Taking a deep breath, Spencer dragged a hand down his face, “Please, Y/N… I just…” his voice trailed off for a moment before coming back, “Just spell it out for me, baby. I can’t guess. I can’t.”

You mouth felt dry as you leaned your head against the doorframe, looking up at him with sorrow-filled eyes, “You kissed her, Spence.” Your voice was soft, “You kissed her and we never spoke about it again.”

Each stage of grief crossed over your boyfriend’s face as he took in the full weight of what you just told him, “I thought you wouldn’t want to talk about it. I have been trying so hard to put everything back to the way it was before any of… this happened.”

Shaking your head, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “You can’t!” You told him earnestly, “It’s just… you can’t!” You said recognizing that you were beginning to raise your voice in the heat of the moment, and the last thing you needed tonight was a noise complaint. You opened your door for Spencer to come in, and he barreled through the doorway like he was on a mission. You took a deep breath, “Things are too different now, Spencer. It can’t go back to the way that it was. We aren’t machinery, there’s no reset button for this.”

The hurt in his expression was so palpable that you nearly excused yourself to sit down, but you stood your ground and met him stare for stare. “What are you saying?” He asked, his voice gentle, like he was waiting for a fatal blow.

“I’m saying that we can’t keep going on like this,” you said helplessly, “I can’t keep going on like this.” Don’t let this be the end. Don’t let this end. Spencer, please.

Spencer shook his head, frowning for a moment before looking around your apartment, “Move in with me.”

Your jaw dropped, “Pardon?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated. “Move in with me and we can make it different. We can move somewhere else if you don’t want to move to my place, but I can’t… I can’t lose you, so let’s do something different.”

Now you really did need to sit down, “I can’t…” you swallowed your tears before they had a chance to emerge, “I can’t move in with you if this is just you looking at losing me and making an extreme decision to stop that from happening.”

Kneeling in front of you, Spencer took both of your hands and clasped them in his, “I am asking you to move in with me, unhindered and uninfluenced, because I love you. You want to see change, right? This is change. This is different and new and it’s nothing like before, so we won’t have to compare it to anything.”

You studied his eyes as they bore into your own, “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I’ll beg,” he insisted, “I’m already on my knees, just say the word, baby.”

It was impossible to resist the smile that grew on your face, “When did you get so dramatic?”

He sighed, his shoulders slouching forward as he set his forehead on your conjoined hands, “So, we should start apartment hunting? Or we could buy a house?”

You reclaimed one of your hands, wiping tears from your face before playing with his messy, damp hair, “Yeah,” you whispered, “but I’m not moving any of your books.”

[nerdallwritey]

Just to Ruin Me

Summary: “You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” OR The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 12.5k CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, vaginal fingering, dry humping, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, but don't piss of Shadowheart Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 2 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here. Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Thanks to everyone who read Part 1!!! Your kind comments and encouragement spurred me to write Part 2 and I hope it's a sequel that lives up to expectations!! I know the summary is a little angsty, but I promise there's more banter to be had. Everyone is still a goof, after all. Please enjoy :) (Thank you to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder, the last part ended with the following few lines: “For now, you were content to sleep under the stars in Astarion’s arms. It was the best sleep you’d ever had.”

Taglist: @a66-1 @khaleesiofthewolves @khywren @lollipopsandlandmines @minestrones

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best sleep you’d ever had.

Though you’d grown accustomed to roughing it in the last few weeks since the nautiloid crash, waking up in the forest was still a shock. It had its charms, sure, like the fresh air and the breeze blowing in off the mountains, but the appeal was starting to wane. Especially after one too many nights of having to take a dip in the frigid lake next to camp to rid yourself of gnoll blood. 

This morning however, you found yourself surrounded by blankets and pillows from your camp in the middle of a clearing surrounded by large pine trees, all of which had been thoughtfully arranged by the figure trancing beside you. Your own sleeping figure sighed comfortably, unbothered by the lack of a mattress or a hot bath, just a nice deep sleep-

Astarion whacked you in the face.

Your eyes shot open.

“OW?” You scrunched your nose and blinked a few times to get your bearings. 

It was still dark. The forest around you was painted a delicate shade of periwinkle. You’d hazard a guess that it was just a little before dawn. 

At some point in the night, you’d rolled onto your back, away from Astarion, who was now curled to your right, his back facing you. He must have just rolled over, explaining the harsh wake up from his forearm. You smiled softly and instinctively brought your hand to rub your forehead where he’d made the unfortunate contact. 

Blinking a little more, your eyes were beginning to adjust. From this angle, you had a clear line of sight to the large scar that overran a majority of his back. You squinted in the dark to try and get a clearer view of the terrible thing, but came up short due to the shadows of tree branches being cast from above. Still just a mandala of jagged lines and brutal curves. When you got your hands on Cazador, you’d…

No.

No, that wasn’t your fight. 

But you’d be gods damned if you wouldn’t be there for every bloody moment Astarion faced him, giving support however you could. Though you had to admit that it would be so gratifying to corner the bastard and cast a quick little Otto’s Irresistible Dance… Assuming you’d be strong enough to cast it by then… Gods, he’d look so fucking stupid just before Astarion plunged a knife through his heart-

Enough. Battle strategies and sick, twisted (but satisfying) revenge fantasies later. Right now you noticed that the shifting of the shadows on his back wasn’t from a breeze shaking the branches above you, but because Astarion himself was trembling. 

Your first instinct was to reach out and touch him, but you quickly retracted your hand. Based on the short whimpers he was letting out, it seemed like he was having a nightmare.

How was one supposed to wake someone from a nightmare again? With Astarion you’d have to be extra careful; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d stowed a knife somewhere within these blankets that he might reach for in a surge of waking fear. 

That… would not be pleasant. 

You shifted to sit up and look around.

Ow.

A dull throbbing made itself known between your legs.

No, that was great. Spectacular, in fact. You’d have to stop and assess later.

Gingerly, you got onto your knees and peered around at your surroundings. Astarion had done a decent job of cleaning up the clearing to make room for this blanket nest, so there wasn’t a poking stick to be seen within reaching distance.

Not that you were going to poke him with a stick… but the thought had crossed your mind. You were still tired! You’d been fucked for the first time last night! There was a lot going on! 

You shook your head to clear the stupid overlapping thoughts and set to looking around for a wayward pillow. You spotted one in the far corner and made your way over to it carefully but with some haste to end Astarion’s unconscious suffering. 

You crawled back over to him. And then backed up a little. Just in case.

“Astarion,” you sang quietly. 

Astarion continued trembling, but you heard him inhale sharply. A good sign?

You raised your voice a little, but kept the same musical cadence. “Astaaaarioooon.”

Nothing.

Okay fine. 

“Sorry,” you said quietly, then threw the pillow at Astarion, hitting him squarely on the back of the head. You leaned forward to grab your own pillow as a protective shield as he gasped and shot up.

“What the hells? What’s happening?” Astarion rolled onto his back and frantically looked around until his eyes landed on you. 

You smiled sheepishly and waved at him lamely from behind your pillow. “Hi.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, confused. He shook his head, then lifted a hand to the back of his head where the pillow had hit him. “What did you do?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh, I know what I was doing,” his tone was sarcastic. “What were you doing?”

You looked down at your lap, guilty. “I couldn’t remember how to wake someone up from a nightmare.”

“So you assaulted me?”

“I didn’t know if you had a knife!”

“Why would I have a knife? What is happening?!” He sat up fully and brought a hand to his forehead as if he were in pain. 

“Are you okay?”

“Thankfully, I’ll live,” he opened his eyes and looked at you, his hand still on his forehead. 

You huffed. “I meant with the nightmare.”

Astarion sighed and closed his eyes again. “It’s far too early to discuss this.” He tilted his head up towards the sky, which was getting brighter with every passing moment. A practiced smirk appeared on his face and he looked at you once more. “I’d much rather know if you’re okay, darling.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“We had a lot of fun last night, didn’t we?”

“Seeing as how I’m always a lot of fun, I don’t understand why you’re posing this question.” You looked down your nose at him. 

He hung his head and sighed exasperatedly. “Will you simply allow me to work my charms on you?”

You tutted. “Is that what you were trying to do just now?”

“Attempting to, yes.” Astarion crossed his arms. “I’m usually irresistible.”

You snorted. “Okay,” you said, a small smile appearing on your face. “I’m going to ignore your lack of an answer about your nightmare and will elect to wait until you’re ready to tell me about it yourself.”

Astarion pursed his lips.

“But go ahead,” you rearranged your legs, wincing mildly as you moved to sit cross legged, “charm me.”

A look of worry flashed over Astarion’s face when he saw you wince, but the concern was quickly overtaken by an all too self-satisfied grin. “Feeling it this morning, are we?”

You rolled your eyes. “I knew you’d be happy about this.”

“Positively delighted, my sweet.” He leaned forward and kissed you gently, bringing a hand up to your cheek. You brought your own hand up to lay against his. He pulled away and appraised your face smugly. “I was completely enamored by your performance last night.” You were about to open your mouth to say something, but Astarion interrupted. “Don’t even think about mentioning that you’re a bard and that of course you’re good at performing, or something like that.”

You closed your mouth. You were going to say something like that. Instead you said, “You were pretty good yourself.”

He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “I’ve ‘ruined you,’ from what I recall.”

You groaned. “I just said that to make you cum.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, my dear.” His face was still smug, but he motioned for you to come closer. You scooted forward and he lifted you slightly to sit on his lap. 

He leaned up and kissed you deeply, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for entrance. You moaned in response and opened your mouth for him. Though the rest of his body was cold, his mouth was warm and inviting, and you leaned in further to try and get closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tilted your head slightly to get a better angle. You’d been mildly distracted last night; had he always smelled this good?

When Astarion pulled back suddenly, you couldn’t help the whine that escaped at the loss. He hummed in satisfaction, and his voice was low and seductive when he spoke.

“Every part of your perfect body whispers temptations-”

You giggled. “What?”

“Shush dear, I’m charming you.” He cleared his throat, “-it’s as if the gods made you just to ruin me.”

“So now I’ve ruined you?” You raised your eyebrows teasingly.

“Wait, no-”

You leaned your forehead onto his and laughed. “And that one usually works?”

He blew out a puff of air. “You’re an unusual one, I’ll give you that.” 

You shrugged, pleased with yourself.

“But yes,” Astarion continued, “I’ve made plenty of previous lovers swoon with that particular line.”

“Show me what else you’ve got, then,” you challenged.

Astarion tilted his head in thought. “Let’s see… I can’t use the ‘cried from your lips’ line because I used that one last night…” You scoffed joyfully, mockingly scandalized that he’d already used a line on you. He met your eye and smirked. “How about this one: When I’m with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again, with you.”

The sultry tone of his voice did send a pang of want through your body, reminding you that you were only wearing Astarion’s shirt and nothing else. You shifted uncomfortably. 

“How romantic,” you said, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. “I didn’t think you liked dying the first time.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, sensing your deflection and smirked, looking down at where you sat on his lap. He rolled his hips, which made you inhale sharply. “I see that one did do something for you,” he leaned forward and kissed your neck. 

You exhaled slowly, “I blame that stupid sexy voice of yours.”

Astarion growled against your throat and you shivered, bringing your hands up to his back. 

“Astarion,” you sighed and he hummed in response, licking over the twin wounds he’d left the night before. You sat up a little straighter. “Wait.”

He immediately pulled back and looked at you with concern. “What is it?”

“I just thought of something,” you said.

Astarion raised his eyebrows and nodded, wanting you to continue.

“Can I borrow your fangs?”

“My-?” His tongue instinctively flicked over his teeth.

“Because I want to leave a lasting impression on you,” you tilted your head at him to show off the marks he’d left on your throat. You shimmied your shoulders a little for good measure. 

“I’m leaving,” Astarion made to get up with you still on his lap and you laughed loudly.

“No! No! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wanted to try a dumb line on you, too!” You threw your arms around his neck and hid your face in his shoulder. You felt him kiss your hair.

“You’re lucky I don’t travel with you for your personality,” he joked. 

“I’d say ‘I’m a lot of fun’ again but I think you’d actually stop talking to me.” You pulled back to look at him.

“And you’d be right.” He kissed you chastely and then adjusted you on his lap. You winced a little again and he looked genuinely sympathetic. “I might have a way to ease the pain from last night,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

You smiled at him. “Yes.”

He smiled back. “Good.” He positioned your arms over his shoulders. “Hang on, my love.” You crossed your arms where they hung behind him and waited to see what he would do. 

Without warning, you felt one of his cold fingers slide through your folds. You hissed at the sensation and looked at Astarion. 

“Supposedly, massaging the area can help,” he was trying to sound knowledgeable, but the look in his eyes was one full of lust. Then he tutted, looking down. “You could be wetter, darling.” His thumb began to circle your clit.

Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, and you leaned forward again to rest your forehead on his shoulder. 

“Do you want my cock again, love? You took me so well last night, I was so proud of you,” he’d moved his mouth next to your ear and was speaking with the same sultry tone that he had a minute ago. You whimpered at his praise and rolled your hips to get his thumb to press you harder. Astarion let out a low groan. “That’s it, you’re getting so wet for me, you’re so good.”

After a few more tight circles, you practically sobbed when you felt him take his thumb away from your clit.

“Shh, shh, I know,” he cooed, “but we want you to feel better, remember?”

You let out a frustrated sound. “I already was feeling better.”

Astarion chuckled. “Trust me, would you? Impatient.” His tone was nothing but fond.

His other fingers began massaging the area around your entrance. You winced and bit your lip. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you confirmed. “I assume this will get better?”

“That’s the idea,” he kissed your ear and you nodded against his shoulder. 

You rolled your hips, attempting to get friction where you needed it. 

“Just a little longer,” Astarion said, moving his fingers gently around your cunt.

You hummed an acknowledgement and kept rolling your hips, trying to combat this weird form of edging that was happening. 

Finally, Astarion ceased his massaging and brought his thumb back to your clit. You let out a long shuddering breath and squeezed your eyes tight, adjusting your hips to roll against his thigh. 

“There you go, my love,” Astarion said, voice still in your ear. “I’ll make you cum for behaving so well.”

You whined loudly as his thumb picked up the pace. You began rolling your hips at an equally fast pace. “More,” you whined, willing your climax to approach faster.

“Not right now, darling. Let’s give you a break there, shall we?” Astarion used his free hand to pet your hair. 

“But you asked if I wanted your cock again,” you whined.

“And while I’m pleased to hear that you’d like it again, let’s relax and get you off like this for now, okay?” 

You groaned but nodded, squeezing your eyes shut again and focusing on the pleasure Astarion was currently providing. “Harder,” you instructed.

Astarion pressed down harder on your clit with his thumb. He swept his index and middle finger through your folds, coating them in your slick. He quickly swapped those fingers with his thumb, changing the sensation by swapping one finger for two and adding more of your arousal to the mix. 

You keened and gripped his bicep. “Harder!” You instructed again, desperate and approaching the edge. You could feel the coil in your stomach preparing to let go.

Astarion pushed again and brought his lips to your ear once more. 

“I just thought of something, precious thing,” he murmured.

You blinked at him, your eyes unfocused and half lidded.

“More of a question, really,” he clarified.

You squeezed your eyes tight, nodding. You were on the precipice of your orgasm and could feel it fastly approaching. You slammed your hips against Astarion’s thigh as he continued to rub your clit brutally. 

“Do you believe in love at first bite?” He leaned forward and kissed your throat, then began to suck a new mark into the flesh there. Contrary to his pun, he wouldn’t drink from you without your expressed permission first.

It did, however, send you crashing over the edge. You moaned loudly, Astarion’s name tumbling repeatedly out of your mouth. The vision behind your eyelids was white and you reached out blindly to grip Astarion’s shoulders. His lips detached themselves from your throat and found your own. His tongue was immediately in your mouth, swallowing your moans and shouts of his name.

When you came down, you disconnected from the kiss and opened your eyes, a lopsided grin on your face. 

“Thank you,” you said. “I do feel better.”

Astarion smirked. “I knew you would.” He brought his fingers, still coated in your essence, up to his mouth and sucked them clean. You watched, mesmerized by the way his cheeks hollowed and his eyes fluttered shut. He pulled them out with a lewd pop. “Delicious.”

You felt your face flush, embarrassed by his display, despite just cumming in his lap. 

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about this,” Astarion said, reading your expression immediately. “What you should feel embarrassed about is the fact that you came because I told a joke.”

“I did not!” You protested.

“You absolutely did,” Astarion said. “And it was a particularly bad one, too.” He clicked his tongue. “You must feel so ashamed.”

You groaned. “I came because you started kissing my neck!”

Astarion raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing you. “It’s okay, darling, no one here was under the impression that you aren’t incredibly lame.” He gave you a pitying look, then kissed your nose and you laughed. He pulled back and looked at you fondly, a dopey half smile on his face. Then he looked up at the sky.

The periwinkle you’d awoken to was now vibrant shades of orange and pink. 

“Are you okay if I move you?” Astarion asked.

“Um… sure?” You weren’t sure why he was asking, and helped to move yourself off of him. You did feel a bit less sore thanks to his help. 

He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, then bent to pick up a rag to wipe off his pants. 

“Sorry,” you said.

Astarion shook his head. “Comes with the territory.” You were about to make a joke but he held up a finger and gave you a warning look. “Don’t.”

You held up your hands innocently. 

He tossed you the rag after and then your pants and underthings.

“Clean up,” he instructed, “then get dressed.”

You furrowed your brows, your stomach dropping suddenly. He didn’t expect you to leave right now, did he? He hadn’t fucked you last night, then brought you more pleasure this morning, only for him to send you back to camp like it hadn’t happened, right?

Astarion snorted. He was watching you as he slipped on his shoes. “Relax, darling, I see that face. I just want to show you something.” He held out a hand to help you up.

“Okay,” you smiled, soothed by the pleasant look on his face. “Do you want your shirt back?” You made to lift it over your head.

“Keep it for now, dear,” Astarion said. “I rather like that on you, truthfully.” The collar was slipping off your shoulder as you pulled on your pants, and you made no move to adjust it, opting not to put your bra back on yet.

“Do you want to wear my shirt?” you teased.

“Tempting, but I fear I’d look better in it than you do.”

“Excellent point, don’t do that.” You adjusted the ruffles on Astarion’s shirt and felt a light breeze on your cleavage through the lacey opening at the collar. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said. You looked up and caught Astarion staring at your chest.

You laughed as he cleared his throat, then gestured deeper into the woods with his head. “This way.” He held out a tentative hand and you took it eagerly, bringing the back of his palm up to your face to leave a gentle kiss. Astarion squeezed your hand slightly at the contact, and began heading further into the forest, away from camp. A pleasant silence hung between the two of you and you rubbed your thumb absently along the back of his hand.

It wasn’t long before the trees started to thin and you heard the sound of rushing water somewhere close by. You emerged from the trees to find a cliff overlooking a ravine below. On the other side of the ravine was more forest, and beyond that, you could faintly see the Sea of Swords. The sun peeked out over the horizon, bright reddish orange in the distance. Its glow was a welcome sight and you found yourself in awe of the view.

Astarion let go of your hand and sat, dangling his feet over the edge of the cliff. You hesitantly stepped forward and sat beside him, opting instead to sit with one knee up, the other leg crossed beneath it. Astarion sat back on his arms. The sun reflected off his skin in the most beautiful golden and magenta hues. His hair, somehow still perfect despite your night together, was being jostled lightly by the breeze. He’d closed his eyes and tipped his head up, basking. You couldn’t help watching him as you rested your cheek on your bent knee. 

He didn’t open his eyes when he said, “I try to come out here every morning.” 

You sat in silence, continuing to watch him as you prepared to listen to whatever he’d say next. 

“After two hundred years in darkness, you forget how lovely the sunrise is,” he said. “I don’t ever want to miss another.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like,” you said softly. 

Astarion hummed in acknowledgment and opened his eyes. “I’d catch glimpses while lurking around the city for too long before dawn, hopping from shadow to shadow until I made it back to Cazador’s manor.” His eyes didn’t waver from the sun in the distance. “But there were moments where I’d catch a glimpse of it over the Chionthar.” His tone became sardonic. “The promise of a new day emerging! Something that I would never get to participate in.” He sighed. “I’d linger as long as I could in those moments.” 

You nodded, picturing a hopeful Astarion hiding behind buildings and in alleys, trying to get a fleeting look at a phenomenon that occurred every day, one that you took for granted. Your heart ached for him. 

He continued. “I never quite told you what Cazador made his spawn do for him.”

You tried to recall what Astarion had said to you before. Only that he’d been made to go out into the city and bring back “the most beautiful souls” he could find. Then Cazador would make him either drink from a disgusting dead rat, or abuse him for refusing. The thought made you visibly shudder. 

“I know that you had to bring people back to-” you lowered your voice, as if saying his name might summon him, “-Cazador, against your will. And that he’d kill them.” 

Astarion nodded his head once, remorsefully. “I never told you how we lured them.”

You could see pain etched into his features. You reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. He flinched a bit at the contact, but settled when he looked over at you.

“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.”

“It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.”

“If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.”

Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” 

You cocked your head sympathetically. “And I take it two hundred years as a slave hasn’t really afforded you any choice.”

“Correct,” he sighed. “As a spawn, your vampiric master has complete control over your body and your actions. Even in moments where I wanted to defy or fight back, I was powerless to do anything.” 

Your heart jumped into your throat. You hadn’t realized that was how it worked. Having no control over yourself or your actions sounded like a complete nightmare and you were glad that you’d hopefully never have to experience it. Knowing that that had been Astarion’s entire existence for the past two centuries made you sick to your stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, just as you’d said the last few times he’d shared glimpses of his past.

Astarion’s eyes were closed once again as he inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He continued to bask in the rising sun for a few silent moments and you watched as it slowly rose higher into the sky. 

“That nightmare I had,” he said, his voice coming out quiet, “I’ve had it before.”

Again, you said nothing and waited for him to continue.

“I actually had the same one the night you let me drink your blood for the first time.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me that drinking my blood was some sort of revenge plot against me for haunting your nightmares.”

Astarion smiled a little. “No, it wasn’t about you. It was about Cazador.”

“You know, I’m really starting to dislike this guy,” you said, knowing how difficult this was for him and trying to keep his mood up with another little joke. 

“You and me both,” he sounded tired. “In the dream, I’m in the forest. Cazador appears and recites the rules of being his vampire spawn.” He held up his hand and recounted them on his fingers: “‘First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shall obey me in all things. Third, thou shalt not leave my side, unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.’” 

You listened patiently as Astarion recited each rule almost mechanically. You scrunched your nose with each passing instruction and rolled your eyes dramatically when Astarion finished.

“What a prick.”

He smiled again. “With an archaic speech pattern.”

“I was going to mention his archaic speech pattern.”

The smile faded slowly as Astarion returned to his thoughts. “The dream ends with Cazador telling me I’m his forever. That I can never escape.” 

You let the words hang in the air for a moment. “And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” he said humorlessly. He laid down fully on his back, the sun high enough to bathe him completely in its glow. He rested his arms behind his head and angled himself to look at you. “I realized, if I could walk in the sun, what other vampiric laws could I break?”

You looked down at him, admiring the light glinting off his bare chest. “So you decided to test your theory on me? I’m touched.” You held a hand to your chest, pretending to be deeply moved.

“In all honesty, I thought you were the least likely to kill me if I got caught.” He smirked at you. “And it would seem I was right.”

“I wouldn’t have let any of the others kill you,” you said firmly.

Astarion chuckled. “How sweet. My brave little protector.” He reached over to pinch your cheek.

You swatted him away. “Hey, who saved your ass from a bugbear yesterday?”

He shrugged. “I would have been fine.”

You leaned forward and shoved him lightly, making him laugh and throw his arm forward as a shield. 

When his laughter died down, his face grew a touch more serious again. “When you so graciously assaulted me this morning, he’d just finished telling me rule number three; that I can’t leave him unless he tells me to.”

You thought for a moment. “Which begs the question,” Astarion looked over at you expectantly, “how did you end up out here? From what I recall, the sun was still out when the nautiloid reached the Gate. You didn’t have the tadpole yet, so how’d you escape?”

“I wouldn’t say it was much of an escape.” His eyes shifted up to the sky, his expression thoughtful. “I was looking for new victims for Cazador. It was dusk and I had just been given the order to go out and hunt. I was weaving through shadows, avoiding the setting sun, but there’s only so many places one can hide from a giant tentacle that won’t burn you to a crisp. One of the tentacles caught me when I attempted to flee down an alleyway. A complete accident.”

“If it helps, I tripped while running away.”

“Of course you did.” He sighed. “Figures it would take an alien invasion to finally free me from his clutches. Not some,” he waved his hands in the air, gesturing to nothing in particular, “heroic figure sent by the gods to save me and smite that horrible man down to somewhere further and more vile than the Nine Hells.” His hands fell ungracefully to his sides.

He wasn’t wrong. How could any god worth their salt claim to be holier than thou when such suffering was occuring right under their noses? And you were pretty sure, based on tales you’d heard of Mystra and Shar from Gale and Shadowheart, that the gods hadn’t planned for the nautiloids or the rise of the Absolute. Yet if it weren’t for any of that, Astarion would still be trapped in Baldur’s Gate and your adventure thus far would have looked very different.

“If I’d known, I would have done something,” you said, knowing it was more complicated than that, but still wanting to help somehow. 

“Darling, if I’d met you in Baldur’s Gate, I would not have hesitated to take you to Cazador.”

That hurt. 

You said as much. “Ouch.”

“Well,” he sounded angry, though he directed it up towards the sky and not at you, “I wouldn’t have had a choice! Sure, it would have been a little novel, given how inexperienced you are, but regardless, I would have handed you off to him as soon as I’d made you finish.”

Ah. So that was how he lured people. It made sense, now that you put the pieces together; Astarion was so experienced because he had to be. Of course unsuspecting victims would fall prey to the allure of an eternally beautiful vampire, especially the one laying next to you. Of course the promise of pleasure from someone that sexy would be the obvious thing to agree to. It was a wonder your paths had never crossed before the nautiloid. 

“Once,” Astarion broke the silence that had fallen between you, his tone distant, “in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy who I couldn’t bear to bring back to him.” He finally looked over at you, his eyes full of sadness. “So I ran, instead of hurting that sweet man.”

You reached for his hand, then thought better of it. All his snide “don’t touch me’s” on the road now held a new, terrible weight.

“After Cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year. A year of silence”

A hand flew to your mouth. “Astarion…” you felt your eyes begin to prick with tears and did your best to will them away, fearing that they might make Astarion stop sharing.

He went on. “Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out, more months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death.” He took a deep breath, then blew it out shakily. “So no, I wouldn’t have hesitated, had we crossed paths.”

You opened and closed your mouth several times, attempting to find words that could possibly compose an appropriate response to the horrors you currently refused to picture. “I have no words,” is what you finally settled on, followed by an, “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing can make up for that,” he said quietly. “Not even Cazador’s death.” He paused. “Well, it would help a little, but the coward deserves a fate worse than death.”

“Can I hug you?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself.

Astarion blinked a few times, then sat up. “What?”

“I just… you’ve been through such hell and I want to hug you, but I don’t want to touch you without your permission.”

He looked you up and down and saw the sincerity evident on your face. “I… suppose.” He pulled his legs up from where they were still dangling above the ravine and turned to face you head on. 

“Thank you,” you said, still attempting to keep your tears at bay.

You leaned forward and weaved your arms beneath Astarion’s, hooking your arms up and placing your hands on his shoulder blades. You settled your face between his neck and shoulder and could feel that his arms were frozen rigidly in place in front of him. You took a shaky breath and stayed still, allowing Astarion to move at his own pace. 

His arms finally settled around you and he bent his head so his cheek rested against your hair. 

The two of you stayed like that for a while, relishing in the other’s closeness. You moved your hands back and forth across his back absently. When you caught yourself, you pulled back to look at him and asked, “Is it okay that I’m touching your back?”

Astarion chuckled softly. “Yes, my dear. It’s rather nice, actually.”

You smiled and nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck. Seriously, did he always smell this good?

Despite the pleasant distraction, something was nagging at your thoughts.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmured into his skin.

Astarion sighed dramatically. “If it has anything to do with my fangs, I’ll rip your throat out.”

You snickered to yourself. “No, not another dumb joke, I promise.”

“Then by all means.”

You pulled back once more to look at him in the face. His eyes widened when he saw your nervous expression. You avoided holding his gaze, feeling a little small. 

“Do you… want to be with me?”

Astarion looked taken aback. “What?”

“I mean… well…” You were having trouble sorting through your thoughts. Who were you to make this moment about yourself when Astarion had just been so open with you? And why couldn’t you trust him in what he had told you last night? Still, you had to know. You’d made it clear how much you cared for him and how much sleeping with him had meant to you. 

Given his past experiences, it made sense why he’d sleep with you, but you wanted to hear him say it. If this was all some ploy to manipulate you into doing what he wanted, even without Cazador’s instruction, you needed to know now. 

“Was I… just another conquest?” you asked, your tears reemerging. “Because if that’s the case, then I think we should end whatever this is.”

Astarion’s face was now inches away from yours. He moved a hand from your back and shifted it up to wipe a wayward tear that had escaped. He said your name softly.

“No, my sweet,” his other hand started rubbing soothing circles into your back. He pulled back a little. “Well, yes.”

You scoffed, another tear rolling down your cheek. 

Astarion was quick to correct. “No, no! I mean, at first, yes, it was my plan to seduce you and sleep with you.”

You let out a small whimpering noise and he tried to catch your eye. You kept your gaze glued on something in the distance, unseeing.

Astarion cleared his throat. “You- You’re valuable; someone willing to feed me, someone who advocated for me to stay with you all, even though you knew vampires were dangerous, someone who would protect me in battle, even if it meant sacrificing something important to you.”

Try as he might to get your attention back on him, your face remained blank as you stared into the distance.

“I wanted your continued protection.” He shrugged. “Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in and I thought I could secure that with sex.”

That got you to look at him, a sour expression on your face. “Have you met me?”

Astarion chuckled. “Yes, I have. And that’s what threw me for such a loop.”

You humphed.

“When I realized you’d be more of a challenge, I modified my plan.”

“I don’t love the direction this is headed.”

“Stay with me, darling” he said, “I promise I’m going somewhere with this.”

You exhaled and nodded for him to continue. 

“I did want to give you a good first experience, that much was true, but I will admit that I was still planning on using you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You realize how bad this sounds, right?”

“Will you-” he sighed. “Let me finish, damn you,” he brought his forehead to yours briefly, then pulled back. “So imagine how stupid I felt when I realized I genuinely felt something for you.”

That made you smile softly. 

He groaned. “And yes, it is because I find you to be… a lot of fun.” The last phrase sounded like it hurt coming out. 

Your soft smile transformed into one of smug satisfaction. “And when did you come to this conclusion?”

“Well first of all, look at you.” He smiled slyly and you playfully pushed his face away from yours, just as you had last night. After a moment, Astarion looked up, as if searching through his thoughts. “I suppose I’ve always found you to be amusing. You were so easy to fool in the beginning. I mean, the very first day we met, you thought I had one of those brain things cornered.”

“I had no reason not to believe you! And then you held a knife to my throat!” “Ah, memories,” he sighed wistfully. “But then we started traveling together, and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed more. Killing those goblins outside the Grove, fooling those trolls into working for us, taking out those Paladins of Tyr… you always had a sarcastic comment to contend with my sarcastic comments. Which is saying something.”

You snorted. “As if I wouldn’t have something to say.”

Astarion nodded. “You do talk a lot.” 

You chuckled softly, feeling better. Your arms were still wrapped around Astarion.

“It was when I kissed you.” His tone was thoughtful.

“Hmm?”

“When I really kissed you for the first time, there was something different about it.” His eyes flicked down to your lips momentarily. “Suddenly everything we’d been through came rushing back to my mind and there was this… pleasure I hadn’t felt. In an awfully long time.”

You smiled like a dope, bringing your forehead to his.

“I realized you weren’t going anywhere. And that you genuinely cared about what I thought and what I wanted.” He looked at you almost shyly. “No one in the past two hundred years has stayed.” Astarion pulled back and his inflection became flamboyant and playful: “Not that they had much of a choice, but it was a somewhat shocking revelation.” His tone then returned to one of sincerity: “And no one has cared for me as you have.”

You looked away, embarrassed by the kind words.“What can I say, I’m incredible.”

Astarion blew out a cool puff of air that tickled your face. “Annoyingly, you are.”

You looked back at him and smirked. “For me, it was when you asked me how I’d want to die.”

Astarion snorted. “Pardon?”

“When you asked me how I wanted to die on one of our first nights at camp. I genuinely had the thought, ‘Now here’s a guy who knows how to have a good time.’”

Astarion laughed brightly. You mirrored his grin.

“You said you wanted to be decapitated.” 

“How romantic of me,” he said, raising a seductive eyebrow. 

“Well it did spark the crush I’ve been harboring this whole time,” you felt your face heat up at the admission. “That, and your stupid beautiful face.”

Astarion sniffed mockingly. “Thank you, not enough people mention that.” Then he looked at you fondly. “But that long, eh? How adorable.” He rubbed his nose against yours teasingly. “And here you thought nothing would come of it.”

“Nothing usually does!” you exclaimed.

He laughed and leaned forward to kiss you once. “Not so loud.”

You lifted an eyebrow and gestured to the empty landscape around you. Astarion shrugged. You lowered your voice despite the lack of other people to bother.

“I am glad something came of it this time.” You settled your forehead onto his shoulder.

“As am I, my love,” he kissed your hair. “Though I have something else to admit.”

You pulled back and looked at him curiously.

Out of nowhere, he presented you with a knife.

“I did have a knife.”

You scoffed incredulously and whacked his arm. “I KNEW YOU HAD A KNIFE, YOU BASTARD!” You laughed loudly and pushed him backwards. 

He fell back onto his arms, laughing with you as you crawled on top and kissed him deeply. 

“Careful darling,” he murmured against your lips, “don’t move.”

You paused your movements, your lips still pressed firmly against his own. Astarion turned his head slightly to look over to his left at the treeline you’d emerged from not too long ago. You pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth and felt him grin. Then you felt his right arm come up and jerk slightly, followed by a “THUNK” sound off to your right. 

You waited a moment before you asked, “Can I move?” Your mouth was smushed against his face and your voice came out muffled.

He chuckled. “Yes, you can move now.” 

You sat up and looked to your right, the knife Astarion had pulled was now wedged deeply into the trunk of a nearby tree. You raised your eyebrows at him.

He stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam, his voice straining as he went. “Impressed?”

“Honestly? Yes.” You leaned back down and kissed him again. 

He hummed and his mouth moved against yours at a leisurely pace, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You kissed down his jaw and throat before coming to his collarbone and stopping.

“You’re sure you don’t want to fuck me again?” Your words came out a little shy and Astarion laughed. 

He twirled the ends of your hair around his finger. “Delicious as you were, my sweet, I think I’d prefer to take my time with you.” 

You pursed your lips, disappointed. 

“That’s not to say I don’t want to, darling, but…” His fingers stopped twirling your hair as he thought. “Like you said earlier, so much has changed in the last few hours. I’ve only just discovered that I can sleep with somebody because I actually want to.” His hand moved from your hair to your cheek. “I think I need some time to adjust to that.”

You nodded and bent to kiss him. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

He smiled up at you. “Thank you.”

You spent a few moments just looking at him, admiring how his eyes sparkled in the sun like rubies. You sighed noticeably. 

“What is it, love?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“Darling…” He raised his eyebrows at you. 

“No, it’s inappropriate right now.” You looked away.

You felt his hand in your hair, and his voice was conspiratory, “I love when you talk dirty.”

You sighed again and looked him in the eye. “One of these days, when you’re ready, I’m going to look into your gorgeous eyes as I make you come.”

Astarion sputtered out a surprised laugh. “Easy there, lover,” he gave you a sultry look, “I may just take you up on that.”

You sat up and spread your hands over his chest. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He brought both hands up to his face and groaned loudly before dragging them back down his face and looking at you. “Come lay in the sun with me, will you?”

You pouted but rolled off of him and curled into his side. 

“There now,” he said, arching his chest upwards towards the sky where the sun had now risen for the day, “isn’t this nice?”

You inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the trees and the sounds of the ravine below. You exhaled and closed your eyes, warmed by the sun and comforted by the presence of Astarion beside you. He himself had his eyes closed and looked peacefully content. You nuzzled further into his side, enjoying how his cool skin contrasted with the warmth coming from above.

Before you could even register that you were still tired from your early wakeup call this morning, you’d drifted back into a comfortable sleep.

~~~~~

You were awoken some time later by a lick to the face. 

You shut your eyes tighter and groaned. “Gross, Astarion, I’m trying to sleep.” You threw an arm over your eyes, the sun now directly overhead. 

“Did you find them, boy?” A voice shouted from the distance.

Your eyes shot open and found Scratch panting above you, wagging his tail excitedly. 

You sat up quickly and immediately leaned over to shake Astarion who appeared to be trancing soundly. 

“Astarion,” you shook him anxiously. 

He scowled, his eyes still closed. He groaned lowly.

“Astarion, my dear, my sweet, my beloved,” you shook him harder and his eyes opened immediately. He sat up, fast as lightning.

“What’s happening? Where’s my knife?” He looked around frantically until his eyes landed on you. “Ah,” he said, calming, “déjà vu.” 

“They’re coming,” you hissed.

“Who?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, thoughts still foggy from his trance. 

“No FUCKING way!” Came Karlach’s voice from the treeline. 

You looked over and found her with an elated grin on her face and her hands on her knees. She started laughing loudly and you hid your face in your hands. 

“You guys did NOT,” she wheezed. 

“Hello Karlach,” Astarion’s voice sounded nonchalant beside you. “What brings you out to ruin our beauty sleep?” 

“Did you find them?” Shadowheart soon emerged from the forest and stopped in her tracks. She surveyed the area and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Astarion, tell me you didn’t.”

“Did what, darling?” He sounded smug and you looked over at him. His expression matched his tone. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I fucking knew this would happen,” Karlach said, coming down from her laughing fit. “Soldier’s had her eye on you for a while now, Fangs.”

“Karlach!” You whisper-shouted.

“Oh, I’m aware,” you felt Astarion turn his head to look at you. 

Suddenly Gale, Lae’zel, and Wyll joined the fray. Scratch ran to them and happily weaved between them as they emerged. 

“We heard a commotion, did you find them?” Gale halted when he saw you and Astarion sitting together on the ground, him shirtless, you wearing his shirt. “No,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yes,” Astarion said, tilting his head against yours. You gave him a dirty look. 

“Chk! Was that filthy nest of our blankets your doing?” Lae’zel asked, cradling her greatsword proudly. 

You groaned and hid your face in your hands again. 

“It would appear so,” Wyll confirmed awkwardly. 

“You vampires have a disgusting way of mating if that nest was any indication,” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes and lifted her nose in the air judgmentally. “Far too soft.”

Astarion scoffed and pulled back from you. “I’ll have you know that vampires mate in the most satisfying- well, we don’t mate, necessarily, we’re not dogs, but we, well at least I, am always an exemplary lover.”

Shadowheart ignored him and walked forward, crouching down and resting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“What?” you laughed in disbelief. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“He didn’t… coerce you into something, did he?”

“Excuse me?” Astarion sounded insulted. “I always ask permission first, darling.”

“Your charms can be quite overwhelming at times, Astarion,” Gale said. 

“And wouldn’t you like having my charms turned on you, wizard,” Astarion sneered. 

“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Wyll held up his hands, gesturing for the others to relax.

“Everyone!” You raised your voice. All eyes settled on you. “Nothing happened between us that I didn’t expressly and happily agree to.”

Karlach started chuckling again. “Good for you, Soldier.”

“Thank you, Karlach,” said Astarion. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

He shrugged. “What?”

You groaned and stood up, wiping grass and forest debris off your clothes. You adjusted Astarion’s shirt on your shoulders, making sure you weren’t showing off too much to your companions. 

“Is there a reason you all came out here? Or was it just to mortify me? Because mission accomplished!”

“It’s midday,” informed Wyll. “We grew worried when the two of you seemingly vanished and didn’t return.”

“Halsin and the tieflings are coming to camp tonight to celebrate our victory against the goblins,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. 

“Yes, and it wouldn’t be a great look if our leader and the gangly one were missing,” Gale said.

“Gangly?!” Astarion exclaimed, very clearly not gangly. 

“You’re- okay, well, I hadn’t seen you shirtless before now,” Gale amended. 

“Like what you see?” Astarion teased. 

“Astarion,” you scolded. 

He sighed and got up, wrapping an arm around you and resting a hand on your hip. 

You went red as you watched your companions track his hand. 

“Listen, people,” Astarion said, sounding serious. 

You saw your companions’ eyes shift to the vampire. 

“Don’t give her a hard time. This was my doing.” Shadowheart was about to say something but Astarion raised his voice a bit. “While yes, she gave permission in everything that we did, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t suggested it in the first place.”

“I could have suggested something much better, surely,” Lae’zel huffed.

“I mean, did you-?” Karlach thrust her hips in the air with her fists at her sides.

“Oh my gods,” you groaned.

“I don’t kiss and tell, darling,” Astarion said, squeezing your hip slightly. 

Karlach smirked smugly and winked at you both. 

You shook your head and looked up, silently begging any god that was listening to kill you and to do it quickly. 

“We should get back to camp,” Wyll suggested diplomatically. “Let these two collect themselves.” 

“So what does this mean?” Shadowheart asked, ignoring Wyll. 

“Shadowheart,” Wyll warned but she waved him off.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Are you only going to sleep with the pathetic vampire moving forward?” Lae’zel stated bluntly.

You and Astarion looked at each other. You saw the slightest flash of uncertainty in his eyes and smiled. “If he’ll let me,” you said. 

A small smile appeared on his face in return.

Lae’zel groaned. “K'chakhi. Your loss.” She turned and walked back into the forest, slinging her greatsword over her back.

You bit your lip, feeling guilty about Lae’zel’s feelings, but Karlach soon slid into your vision. “Congrats, you crazy kids,” she laughed and pretended to punch your arm, then followed on Lae’zel’s heels, Scratch bounding close behind her.

Gale walked over, his face stoic. He stood in front of Astarion and held out his hand. 

Astarion scowled. “What is this, do you want some sort of handout?” 

“I want to shake your hand, you buffoon,” Gale sounded frustrated. 

“Gale…” you said sorrowfully. 

“No no, think nothing of it,” he waved you off. “The right man won out in the end.”

Astarion took his hand and shook it. “Better luck next time,” he jeered. 

“Astarion,” you scolded again. “You both know I’m not something to win, right?”

“Of course you’re not,” Gale nodded. “Apologies, I misspoke. I’ll see you both at camp. Lunch is bread and cheese to save room for tonight’s festivities.” He stiffly turned and walked back towards the trees. Wyll gave him a sympathetic look, then caught your eye. He nodded somewhat sadly and followed after Gale. 

“Well that certainly doesn’t feel good,” you said, holding a hand to your chest and breathing deeply.

“Not quite finished yet, love,” Astarion nodded over towards Shadowheart who lingered nearby. 

She approached slowly, holding her hands behind her back. Astarion released your hip and moved away, sensing what Shadowheart aimed to do. You looked at him curiously, but your attention was drawn back to Shadowheart as she threw her arms around your neck. 

“You’re happy?” She asked softly.

“Shadowheart…” you smiled into her hair. “Yes, I’m happy. Thank you.”

She pulled back to look at you in the eyes, double checking your expression. When she saw that you were genuine, she nodded. She cleared her throat and looked over at Astarion. 

She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Hurt her, and you will never know a happy day again.”

Astarion held up his hands defensively. “I won’t-”

“You have never known the pain of Lady Shar’s wrath, and you’d be smart to keep it that way, so help me gods, Astarion.”

“I got it,” he said flatly. 

“Our Lady of Loss would not hesitate to strike you where you stand-”

“I think he gets it,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Astarion before she looked back at you. “I’ll see you at camp. Don’t dally.” She looked pointedly at Astarion who shrugged helplessly. 

When she headed back into the forest, you and Astarion were finally alone. 

You let out a heavy sigh.

“That was a lot,” Astarion joined you at your side.

“Wait, did you know those people?” you smirked at him.

“Vaguely,” he smirked back and caught you in a kiss. “At least I don’t have to hold back from doing that at camp now.” He held you close in his arms.

You sighed again and laid your head on his shoulder. “You were right. I didn’t realize so many of them felt something for me.”

“That seems to be because you block out the advances of others.”

You shoved him playfully. “How dare you turn my pitiful backstory against me.”

He smiled and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go dismantle that ‘disgusting’ nest.” He did his best to impersonate Lae’zel on “disgusting.” 

It made you laugh. “Okay.”

You took his hand and let him lead you through the trees back to the blankets and pillows that you’d spent the night on. 

When you arrived, you picked up your shirt and bra, feeling mild embarrassment that the others had probably seen them and drawn (correct) conclusions. You removed Astarion’s shirt and threw it back at him, hitting him in the face and quickly covered your chest with your forearm. 

Astarion laughed as his shirt fell into his awaiting hands. “Darling, you don’t have to hide from me,” he narrowed his eyes seductively. “I’ve already seen it all.” He tossed the shirt aside and made his way over to you.

“Feels different in the light of day,” you admitted self-consciously. “Worse, I guess.”

“Now, now,” he said, gently pulling your arm away from your chest, “let me see you in the daylight.” You allowed him to move your arm but didn’t look at him. “Lovely,” he breathed, and kissed you hard. 

You inhaled in surprise, but immediately gave in and slipped your tongue into his mouth and your arms over his shoulders. His hand came up and began massaging your left breast, his icy touch sending a shock wave through you and making you moan. 

Instantly, you pulled away and took a step back. “Careful,” you said as Astarion stared at you wide-eyed, his hand frozen in the air where he’d been palming your breast, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a dry heave. “Stop being so nice to me,” he avoided your gaze. “It makes me want to… be nice back.”

“Gods forbid,” you laughed, and bent to pick up your bra which had fallen back amongst the pillows. 

All of a sudden, you found yourself face down in the blankets, the wind knocked out of you and Astarion’s body weight pressed firmly on top of you.

“Astarion,” you wheezed, “what are you doing?”

His voice was sultry in your ear, “If you’ll remember, I said I wanted to take my time with you.”

Sexy as that was, you couldn’t breathe. You reached behind yourself and smacked Astarion’s back with your palm. “Living creatures need to breathe, idiot!”

“Oh,” he realized his error and rolled off of you. You had no time to adjust yourself before he flipped you over and hovered above you on his hands and knees. 

You blew some hair out of your face, irritated. “Did you just tackle me like I was some sort of prey?”

“My dear, I would never,” he bowed his head and kissed your neck.

“And yet I find myself on the ground, even though I didn’t put myself here,” you tangled your hands in his hair, your voice wobbly. 

“You’ve always been rather clumsy,” he murmured teasingly. 

You took a deep breath and pushed him away. His lips were still puckered, making you giggle. “Shadowheart told us not to dally,” you reminded him. “And she threatened to kill you, what? Three times?”

“You forget that I’m already dead,” he smiled. “What’s another little death?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

You snorted. “Bad.”

“I thought that was rather clever, actually.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “We should really head back.”

Astarion whined and hung his head. “Let me have you again, woman!”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said!” He lifted his head and looked you in the eye. “And while I appreciate your concern, right now, I very much want to be inside of you again.”

You smiled cautiously. “Are you sure?”

He rolled his eyes and kissed you, lowering his body to roll his hips against yours and making his erection very obviously. You jolted at the unexpected sensation and he pulled back.

“Unless this is too much for you,” he searched your face for hesitancy. “You’re probably still sore and we don’t have to rush anything-”

You gripped the back of his head and tightened your fist into his curls. “Please,” you whispered, “fuck me again.”

A wicked grin bloomed on Astarion’s face and he kissed you passionately, rolling his hips against yours for friction. You moaned into his mouth, but he broke the kiss after only a few moments. “Like I said, love, I want to take my time with you.”

He rose up onto his knees and began untying the laces of your pants. You watched him intently and bit your lip as he removed them fully from your legs. He made quick work of his own and crawled back on top of you. His thumb hooked under your panties and his eyes met yours. You nodded and he pulled them down gently and discarded them close by. He then laid beside you, his eyes heavy with lust.

“Come here, precious thing,” he purred and you inched yourself closer to him. “Turn around,” he instructed. You gave him a confused half smile but did what he asked. He reached forward and pulled your hips back, causing you to feel his still-clothed cock against your ass.

“What are you doing?” you asked nervously. 

Astarion chuckled. “Not that, fear not.” He kissed your shoulder as he slid his left arm under you and settled his hand on your lower stomach. A chill ran through you as he nuzzled his head onto your shoulder. “Fair warning,” you could hear the mischief in his voice as his right hand made itself known in front of your face. He wiggled his fingers in a delicate wave, then brought it down between your thighs. 

A gasp escaped your throat when you felt his fingers swipe through your folds.

Astarion tilted his head and kissed your throat. “So wet already, darling.”

“You’re handsome,” you said by way of explanation.

He hummed against your shoulder and began to rub your clit. A shuddering breath left your mouth and your eyes fluttered shut. Astarion paused for a moment to lift your leg and hike it back over his. “This will feel good,” he said against your skin and dragged his fingers through your folds again before inserting a digit into your cunt. 

You threw your head back in surprised pleasure, which made Astarion turn and nip at your ear. He began pumping and curling his finger slowly inside of you. Your breath caught when his thumb resumed its spot on your clit and whined when his finger inside of you hit a particularly sensitive spot. He adjusted his angle to hit it repeatedly. 

“Astarion,” you moaned, your head clouded with nothing but ecstasy. 

“Yes, my sweet, you’re gripping me so tight,” his voice was sensual in your ear. “Do you think you can take a little more?”

You nodded, your eyes shut tight. 

“Words, darling.”

“Another…” you said breathily.

“Another what?”

Your voice was sing-songy. “Astarion, if you don’t put another finger in me right now, I’m leaving you.”

He laughed loudly before moving his mouth close to your ear again. “You like me too much.” Then he leaned up a little to catch your eye, his finger still pumping between your thighs. “Right?”

You smiled sympathetically, seeing your words had spooked him a little. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” you clarified. “But I might kill you.”

“Got it,” Astarion dragged his index finger through your folds, then carefully added it to your cunt alongside his middle finger. 

You exhaled, moving your hand down from his cheek to his hand resting on your stomach. You laced your fingers together and squeezed when he hit a particularly good spot, getting you to moan out an, “Oh, gods.”

“Like that?” He asked cockily, reaching and curling to hit the spot again. 

“Yes, my love,” you sighed, grinning upwards with your eyes closed. 

Behind you, you felt Astarion’s cock twitch.

Your eyes opened and you looked back at him. 

He smiled back at you sheepishly. “It does that sometimes, darling. When something is particularly arousing.”

Your breaths were coming out short and keeping in time with the pumping of his fingers. “Was it… ‘my love?’”

Astarion let out a low moan and hid his face in your shoulder before reemerging and nodding. “Coming from you while you’re in the throes of passion with me is really… something.”

You laughed between whimpers. “My… loooooove,” you sang, squeezing his hand again. “Your fingers feel heavenly, my looooove.”

“Fuck this,” Astarion said, pulling his fingers out of you unceremoniously and curling you forward with his body so he could shimmy out of his underwear. 

“What are you doing,” you winced and whined childishly, “I was so close!”

“Unfortunately, darling, if I’m not inside you within a matter of seconds, I’m going to lose it completely.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” you said, half dazed and still coming down from your almost climax. 

You felt his hand bump your ass as he pumped his cock and you instantly went stiff. “You’re not going to…?”

Astarion let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, my sweet, you’re not nearly ready for something like that yet.”

A relieved sigh escaped you. 

“We could always work our way up-”

“No, that’s okay,” you said quickly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with-”

“No, of course not-”

“But we can-”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” you patted Astarion’s cheek.

“Understood,” he nodded and resumed pumping his cock. “Hook your leg back over mine, darling.” When you followed his instruction, he kissed your shoulder once more. You felt the head of his cock glide through your folds until it prodded at your entrance and you let out a shaky exhale. “Don’t be scared,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “Are you ready?”

You inhaled. “Yes.”

Just as he had last night, Astarion was slow to enter you. This time you heard him whimpering with his mouth so close to your ear. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, dragging his fangs from your shoulder to your neck, “still so tight.”

“Obviously,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut, but not feeling nearly as uncomfortable as you had the first time he’d entered you. You let out a satisfied exhale when his hips bumped your ass. 

“Let me know what I can move,” Astarion said against your skin, his words barely recognizable. 

“You can move,” you said almost immediately, reaching a hand up behind you and twisting it into Astarion’s hair. You moved it over a little to play with the tip of his ear.

He let out a loud groan and snapped his hips forward, probably with more force than he meant to. “Apologies,” he whispered, “that felt heavenly.”

“Keep going, my love,” you encouraged and he caught your eye with a seductive smile. 

He continued to pump his cock into your dripping hole and brought his right hand down to your clit. He licked a stripe from your neck up to your ear. “You know, I really did intend to take my time with you just now,” he spoke lowly from the back of his throat. As if to illustrate his point, he slowed his hips to take long, languid strokes out, and then moved back into you at an equally slow pace. His thumb on your clit slowed as he disconnected his left hand from yours and brought it up to fondle your breast. He kissed up your shoulder to your neck sloppily and sucked on the fading bite marks from last night. 

You moaned loudly, hooking your foot around his calf and tightening your fist in his hair. “We’d really be dallying, then,” you commented.

He made a frustrated noise. “Don’t even allude to the cleric right now,” he pulled away from your neck. “Unless it’s to tell me I’m a much better lover than her.” He snapped his hips into you, hard. 

“I don’t have much of a reference, genius,” you responded breathlessly. 

“Right,” he said, and picked up speed at your clit. His mouth returned to sucking on your throat. 

“Oohhh,” you sighed. You let out a gasp when Astarion’s left hand pinched your nipple.

“You feel wonderful, my darling,” spit connected him to your neck.

“So do you,” you brought your hand up to cover Astarion’s that was kneading your breast. “You can bite me, if you want.”

He groaned loudly and bumped his nose against your jaw. “Well,” he said between thrusts, “if you insist.” 

He kissed your throat before biting down, his hips instantly picking up speed. 

The ice that shot into your veins was a shock as always, but melted into a fuzzy pleasure that had your eyes drooping in ecstasy. 

Astarion took long pulls of your blood as he continued thrusting, circling your clit, and needing your breast. How he was keeping track of everything at once was beyond you in this pleasant, foggy state. 

“Darling,” he pulled away suddenly, swallowing loudly and seemingly out of breath. “May I taste you as you come?”

Your tongue lolled to the side, but his voice snapped you out of it. You nodded up at him. “Yes, please.”

“What do you need?” He licked the wounds on your neck. 

“As much as I’m enjoying you taking your time,” you said, “harder and faster.”

“Easy,” a cocky grin graced his face as a drop of your blood dripped down his chin. 

His hips picked up a brutal pace that nearly had you reaching your peak, and he pressed further onto your clit, his tight circles picking up speed as well. 

“Oh, Astarion,” you moaned loudly, reaching back again to grip his hair.

“Come for me, dearest,” he spoke softly against your throat, but loud enough that you could hear, “I want to hear you sing again. I want to taste how sweet your blood is when I make you cum on my cock.” He continued leaving sloppy kisses against your neck.

“I’m close,” you confirmed, your eyes shut tight and your body tensing. 

“Go ahead, love, I’ve got you,” his hard thrusts were becoming uneven, but ever the professional, his voice remained mostly even. “You’re so tight and warm, thank you for letting me taste you.” He kissed your mouth. “Darling.” Another kiss. “Beloved.” One more. “Mine.”

You cried out as you fell over the edge, your cunt squeezing his cock repeatedly, only to cry out again as you felt Astarion’s fangs enter your neck once more. 

“Astarion!” You shouted, squeezing his hand and pulling his hair and wrapping your shaking leg around his. Almost simultaneously, you felt Astarion spill inside you as he moaned your name loudly into your neck, his hips pulsing clumsily against you. 

The sensation of him drawing your blood was still pleasantly fuzzy, but you could feel yourself becoming light headed. You tapped his arm twice, your signal for him to stop, and he pulled away, leaning his forehead against your temple and breathing heavily. 

“Still cumming,” he groaned and clenched his teeth, his hips faltering in their rhythm. 

After another moment, his body finally relaxed and he pulled you closer into his chest, catching his breath. “That was… amazing,” he sighed happily, leaning forward to lick the remaining blood from your neck. “If I knew blood could taste that good-” His voice trailed off. “Well, I’m sure I’d do something about it if I could.” He seemed pleased with his own answer and hummed contentedly behind you.

“I’m glad it was to your liking,” you said, looking back at him with a smile. He bent forward and kissed you happily. “I’m like a fine vintage,” you teased.

Astarion pursed his lips. “You’re far from vintage, darling, you’ll have to work on your wine related japes.” 

You laughed and a comfortable silence fell between you. Astarion rested both of his hands on your stomach. Which growled suddenly.

“What’s that like?” He teased, licking a wayward drop of blood from the side of his mouth. 

Your body tensed. “Oh gods, bread and cheese!”

Astarion blinked at you. “Are those some sort of new deities I’m not aware of, or-?”

“No, that’s what Gale said we’re having for lunch.”

“And that’s important because-?”

“Because we DALLIED and there’s a PARTY tonight and now Shadowheart is going to KILL us.”

“I see.” Astarion remained still, fixed in place. Then suddenly he was pulling out of you at a breakneck speed and reaching for his clothes. 

You winced a little at the sensation but scrambled for your own clothes, wiping yourself down with the cloth Astarion provided again and got dressed in what was probably record time. 

Incredibly, you both looked presentable. 

“We do make a gorgeous pair,” Astarion cocked his hip and smirked at you, going in for a kiss.

You swatted him away. “Enough flirting, loverboy, we can talk about us later!” You started reaching for blankets and pillows. 

“Us,” Astarion stood on the sidelines, testing out the word on his tongue. “I do so like the sound of that.”

“Help me, would you?” You threw a pile of blankets at him, hitting him in the face and blowing his hair back. 

He groaned. “It should be a crime to rush after you’ve just made love to the most amazing woman.” He came up behind you and smacked your butt teasingly. 

You stood up straight and tried to look angry. “We are going to die if we don’t head back right now.” Astarion wasn’t buying your anger, so you turned bashful. “You made loooove to me?” You clasped your hands together by your face. “You think I’m amaaaazing?” You twirled some of your hair for good measure.

Astarion sighed. “Be serious, woman, we’re going to die!” His voice was exasperated but he smirked at you. He bent to pick up more blankets and pillows and you did the same until you both had piles you could barely see over and nothing was left behind.

“Ugh, I’m going to have to do so much laundry,” you muttered. “Seriously, how did you manage bringing all this out here?”

“Well first, everything was folded neatly.”

“We don’t have time.”

“And second, multiple trips, darling.”

“We can’t afford to leave camp EVER again.”

Try as you might to rush back to camp, you still had to maneuver through a forest and be careful where you stepped. The pair of you moved as quickly as you could, which wasn’t as fast as was probably necessary to avoid Shadowheart’s ire. 

“Soooo…” You broke the silence after a few moments. 

“Gods,” Astarion rolled his eyes, “what?”

“‘My love,’ huh?” You waggled your eyebrows at him.

“What about it?”

“You liiiiiiked it,” you teased. 

“I-” You could see that he thought about arguing but decided not to. “I’m not used to the pet names turned on me. It’s… nice.”

“You’re cute,” you said, looking over at him affectionately and nearly tripping over a tree root as a result.

Astarion snickered, then made his face serious. “I’m the furthest thing from cute. I’m a horrifying monster.” He lowered his voice as if that would back him up.

“Yeah, but you like being mushy.” 

“I do not.”

“You do!” You moved closer to him and bumped his hip with your own. “You were so sweet to me yesterday. And just now.” 

“It’s different with you,” he said quietly.

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows.

“It’s… um… This is stupid, I hate it.” He tried to walk ahead of you but you caught up easily.

“No, no! Please.” You gave him a reassuring look. “I, of all people, will not judge you.”

He sighed. “It’s just… nice to feel like something is mine.” He was quick to correct, “Not that I own you but… I don’t know. You’re not a victim. Not a target. Not just… one night it’s better to forget. You’re something entirely new.”

You smiled over at him. “I like you too, weirdo.”

Astarion humphed. “Whatever.” He moved closer and bumped your hip with his own. The two of you shared a fond look, then turned back to the path ahead.

If Shadowheart was going to kill you, at least you’d die together. 

You both quickened your pace to try and avoid that fate, but it was a lovely thought.

Soon, you began to make out the bright colors of your tents through the trees and the sound of your companions chatting by the fire. 

You turned to Astarion. “See you on the other side.”

He nodded, determined. “It’s been a pleasure servicing you, darling.”

“I hope she kills you first.”

You shared a laugh before you took a calming breath. 

And stepped into camp. 

[stargirlmaybank]

camgirl // jj maybank

y/n turns up in new clothes and jj figures out how she can afford it

MDNI !!! 18+

Word count: 3.2k

a/n: hi so this is my first ever smut and of course it had to be with jj maybank so let me know what you think!

warnings: smut, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), penetration (f receiving), choking, dirty talk, overstimulation, daddy kink!jj, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), filming sex

"are those new clothes?" you hear the voice of kiara. you look down at my new denim levi's shorts and white crocheted crop top. they were new, you'd gotten them today and couldn't wait to wear them for the first time. you shrug your shoulders slightly as you settle myself into a chair around the fire, in between jj and kie, "oh, yeah i got them today. um, had some good tips this week". it wasn't technically a lie, working at the country club where the kooks went brought in some decent money, but definitely not enough to afford splurging on clothes, so your spending money came from other ventures. kie seems to glance at the outfit for a moment before dropping the subject and turning over to listen to pope. 

you take in your surroundings after getting situated, looking at the group of pogues you spend all my time with. your eyes settle on jj, who is looking at the new clothes with an unreadable expression on his face. when he realises your staring, he draws his gaze up to meet yours. you tilt your head a little and raise your eyebrows slightly as if to say 'what's up' without saying anything at all. he returns the look with a shrug and tears his eyes away to concentrate on his beer bottle as he lifts it up to his lips to take in a drink. you briefly take note of his behaviour, before eventually chalking it up to him being buzzed. 

the group end up spending a couple hours of the evening out in front of the chateau, chatting and drinking, trying to forget about losing the cross of santo domingo to rafe. it seems to be all they do lately, the dream of going "full pogue" slipping through their fingers time and time again. this is what spurred your decision to make an onlyfans account; the extra money. it'd only been a few weeks since you started up your account, but it's been growing steadily as you post more and more, from photos to videos. that's where your clothes came from, not that you could tell kie that. your friends wouldn't judge you and you knew that, but it's still not the most casual topic. 

glancing at your phone, you spot the time reading just past midnight. you know you have content to film and edit tonight and it'll take you a while, so you'd better start heading back. since luke disappeared, you've been staying at jj's in the spare room, so now is the best time to film while he's still here. "'m gonna head out guys, before i fall asleep in this chair," you mutter, stretching your legs and standing up. your friends say goodbye, but not before john b offers to let you stay at the chateau. "nah it's alright, but thank you jb. you coming home tonight jayj?" you turn to jj. he flicks his eyes up to you, stopping for a moment to think. "uh, yeah probably. not sure when i'll be back though," he replies nonchalantly, to which you offer a small nod and smile in response. walking away from your friends, you head back to jj's on your bike.

after getting back home, you set up your phone on the tripod in front of your bed, and change into some lacy blue lingerie. the room was dark, apart from the soft warm glow of the bedside lamp, and the dim tripod ring light illuminating your body. you set the camera to record, then get settled on the bed in the lens view. your hands trail down your body, stopping to give attention to your tits as your fingers circle your nipples over the lace of your bra. letting out a short sigh, you reach around your body to unhook the clasp behind your back, before sliding the material off of your body. your hands quickly returning to your chest, swirling and pinching your hardened nipples as your breathing becomes more shallow.

you let your right hand stop and slowly trail down your abdomen, the feather-like touch causing your stomach to twitch. as you reach your panties, you let your fingertips slip underneath to graze at the skin under the waistband before peeling them off your body at a torturous pace, teasing the camera. you slip your legs out of the thong before tossing it aside and opening your legs wider to reveal your glistening pussy, already slick with your arousal. your hand glides down your inner thigh before settling on your entrance. bringing your middle finger up, you collect your wetness, stopping at your sensitive clit. you rub lazy circles, sending a jolt through your body, and drawing out breathy moans from your mouth. 

you increase the pace of the circles on your clit as you drag your left hand away from your boobs and placing your middle finger just at the entrance of your hole. "i know you want me, daddy," you whine to the camera, pushing in your middle finger with a loud moan and setting a brutal pace. adding a second finger, you slam into your pussy, the sounds of your wetness and your moans filling the room. "god, you fill me up so good daddy," you whine as you continue pleasuring yourself, the familiar knot slowly creeping into your stomach. you don't slow down, desperately chasing your high, muttering 'fuck' and 'god' under your breath as the sensation grows stronger. your mind starts going hazy, focussing purely on the pleasure you're drawing out of yourself.

and that's why you didn't pick up on the opening and closing of the front door, or the footsteps inside the house. all you heard was your moans, and the pounding of your pussy. and that's why you don't notice your door slightly opening, or the body standing in the gap as your vision goes black while your orgasm rips through you for the first time tonight. you let go all over your fingers, their movements slowing down but not stopping to prolong your high for as long as possible. you desperately try to control your rapid breathing as spots of vision begin to trickle into your eyes. that's when you spot him. jj, stood in the doorframe, darkened eyes trained directly on your soaked hands. 

"fuck," you gasp desperately trying to cover yourself up, away from his gaze as the video rolls on. his face has a smug expression all over it as he leans on the doorframe and crosses his arms. "so this is why you left early. and why you were parading around in new clothes," he glances to the tripod before returning back to you. you go to speak, but stutter miserably, sitting up with your knees pressed into your body. "jayj-" "no need to explain, i see what's going on here," he chuckles lowly. "i knew you weren't getting money from new clothes from that country club. you've been showing off your pretty pussy to get some money. it's okay baby, i get why they'd pay to see it. i mean, i would." your cheeks burn in embarrassment of getting caught, eyes darting around the room for something to put on. jj shuts the door and settles himself in a chair across the room. "don't stop on my account. i'd be happy to hear your pretty little moans as you fuck yourself with your fingers. unless..." he trails off. "unless what?" your words come flying out, earning a breathy laugh in response. "unless you really want to give them a show hm? show them what sounds come out of you when you're filled up on cock."

you nod slightly, and within a second, jj crosses the room and connects his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss, his hands flying to your body, settling one on your hip and one on your tits. you moan into his mouth as he digs his fingers into your hip. slipping his tongue into your mouth he takes control as you reach for the belt looped into his shorts. with shaky hands from adrenaline, you unto the buckle, followed by the button of his shorts, desperately trying to strip him of his clothing until he's at your level. his hands leave your body only to push down his shorts and lift his shirt over his head, the clothing joining the pile on the floor where your underwear landed. 

your hand falls over the outline of his cock through his underwear, taking in a sharp breath as you feel the size of him under the material. this earns you a grin from jj as he kneels onto the bed at the side of you. "'m gonna fill you up princess. gonna pound into you until you can't take it anymore and beg me to stop," he taunts, pulling you up onto your knees, sideways to the camera. teasingly, he pulls down his underwear to the bottom of his thighs to reveal his cock, already painfully hard at the sight of you. he's huge, with prominent veins snaking up the sides from the base to his blushing tip. 

he strokes your head before grabbing a handful of your hair. "think you can take me in your mouth baby? put those pretty lips around my cock," he guides your head down by your hair until you're face level with his cock. you spit on it, wrapping your hand around the base and sliding up and down to cover it. you start slowly jerking him off while you dart your tongue out to lick the beads of precum off of his slit. you hear him groan, then feel his hand roughly grab your jaw. "don't tease me princess. open your mouth" he spits out, letting go of your jaw to grab your hair tighter. you open your mouth, placing your lips around his tip and softly sucking. he takes a sharp breath at the contact, before thrusting his hips forward and pushes his cock further into your mouth while he holds your head still by his hair. you splutter around him at the unexpected movement, earning a moan from his lips. 

"that's it. fucking take it y/n. that's my little slut," he sets a fast pace, roughly fucking your mouth as his tip hits the back of your throat. you place your hands on his thighs to balance yourself, your nails leaving crescent indents in his skin. spit covers your face from your mouth, falling down to cover your tits. you moan around his cock, sending vibrations through that causes a deep groan from his throat. he glances to your phone recording, watching the side view of his cock go in and out of your mouth as he slyly grins. "look at how pretty she looks, choking on my cock," he talks to the camera, the shallowness of his breath evident in his tone. his moans get louder, your name spilling from his mouth like a prayer. he pulls your head back with your hair, disconnecting your mouth from his cock. 

he pushes your body back until your back reaches the mattress then shifts himself downwards. "wanna taste you pretty girl," he mutters before diving into your pussy, his tongue licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit. you jolt, your clit still swollen and sensitive from your earlier orgasm. jj blows cool air onto your slick cunt, causing you to shiver and grasp at his hair. looping his arms around your thighs, he locks you into place as he begins his assault on your clit. he wraps his lips around it, sucking and swirling his tongue on your bundle of nerves. you cry out loudly, "that feels so good, don't stop daddy." your mind short circuits for a moment when you realise what you called him as he pulls his face away for a second and locks eyes with you. you go to apologise before he beats you to it "fuck you're so hot. that's right, daddy's gonna take care of you," he grins before assuming his previous position. you let out a moan and arch your back off of the bed, gripping his hair tighter and pushing his face closer. your hips grind against his tongue as pleasure shoots through your body. 

jj pulls back one of his hands and without warning, slips two fingers into your pussy. he sets a fast pace, curling his fingers upwards to your sweet spot. your cries get louder as you rut your hips faster, desperate for your second release of the night. jj feels your walls clenching around his fingers as he continues to stimulate your clit with his tongue. "that's right baby, i know you're close. want you to come around my fingers, cover my face with your cum," he pleads, his grip on you hip tightening, certain you'll have bruises in the morning. you feel the pit in your stomach growing, inching towards the release. "daddy, 'm gonna- gonna cum- fuck" you cry, finally falling over the edge as euphoria spreads across your body, your muscles contracting causing you to shake uncontrollably. jj doesn't slow down, guiding you through your high to the point of overstimulation. you feel so sensitive it almost hurts, trying to push his head away from your pussy. 

he finally pulls away, your cum spread across the lower half of his face, glistening in the low light. pulling his fingers out of you, he brings them up to your mouth, which you gladly open to allow him to slip his digits inside. "taste yourself princess, you taste so fucking sweet," he croons, trying to even out his breath. you swirl your tongue around his fingers, tasting yourself as you clean your slick off of him. he pulls his body up to tower over you, shuffling until his body is in between your thighs. with his other hand, he grabs his member and pushes it between your slit, coating himself with the cum dripping out of you as the head nudges your hypersensitive clit. you moan around his fingers at the contact. he drags his fingers out of your mouth, settling his hand around your neck and applying light pressure to the sides. it's not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel your heartbeat in your neck more prominently as your brain clouds slightly. "now what do you say? you think i should give you my cock? fill up your greedy little pussy for everyone to see?" he asks, slapping your pussy with his cock before lining his tip up with your entrance. you nod furiously, "give it to me daddy, please. i wanna feel you inside me." you beg. 

pushing his tip in, you both gasp in unison as he stretches out your entrance with the size of him. he stills his hips, allowing you both a moment to adjust and catch your breath. you look up at him and lock eyes, nodding after a moment to show you're ready. he thrusts his hips forward, snapping his hips to yours as you let out a sharp gasp. he pulls out again slowly, before quickly pushing back in. he continues this slow but rough pace as your walls grip him, his tip brushing past your sweet spot each time. "fuck baby, you're so fucking tight around me. your pussy feels so good i never want to get out of it," he moans, gripping your neck as his other hand pulls your leg over his shoulder, changing the angle. he slowly starts increasing the pace, causing your tits to bounce up and down with the force of his thrusts. 

you turn your head to the side to glance at the view in your phone, watching as his cock disappears into your pussy, focusing on the space where both your bodies meet. you notice how fucked out you look, with your hooded eyes and swollen lips, still shiny with spit and your juices. jj joins you in looking towards the camera, grinning at the same sight. "look at how good you look, taking me so well princess. your subscribers are going to love this huh?" he drags his gaze back in front of him. you slide your hand down to meet your clit, rubbing light circles, trying to avoid overstimulation. jj takes note of this and lets go of your neck to move your hand out of the way, replacing it with his own and a harder pressure. a whimper falls out of your mouth at this, your hand gripping his wrist to try to pull his hand away. "please, i can't take it. it's too much," you beg, your pleading eyes meeting his hungry ones. he shakes his head at you "aw poor baby, come on you can take it. be my good little slut, wanna feel you cum around my cock," his thumb draws rough circles on your clit, the pace of his thrusts never faltering. you feel his balls hit against your ass with every thrust, the sound of your wetness and skin making contact meeting your ears along with both of your moans. 

for the third time, the knot of pleasure appears, increasing faster than before. with your orgasm quickly approaching, you feel jj's hips falter slightly, falling out of rhythm as his breaths grow more ragged. "you gonna cum for me? i can feel you clenching around me, 'm not gonna last," he manages to spit out in between breaths. you nod as you feel your legs begin to shake. "where do you want my cum baby? want daddy to fill up your pussy, hm?" he asks, with a nod of your head in response. "give me your cum, daddy. please," you breathe out. within moments, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, causing you to scream out and writhe in pleasure, your pussy clenching around jj. his orgasm immediately follows, his cum spilling out inside of you as he slows his thrusts, riding out both of your highs as he pumps into you.

he leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, slowly bringing his hips to a stop, leaving his cock still inside of you. he peppers kisses around your jaw and neck as you try to control your breathing and your shaking body. his cock slips out and you whine at the loss of contact, jj pulling away to look down at your pussy. he smirks and walks over to the end of the bed where your tripod is. grabbing your phone, he carries it over to give a view of his cum dripping out of you to the camera. "look at how fucking hot that looks. my cum dripping out of you, hm?" he takes his finger and pushes it back into you, fucking the cum back inside. he tilts the camera upwards, capturing how fucked out you look, your body shining with sweat as your eyes drop closed with exhaustion. 

he ends the video, dropping your phone onto the bed before grabbing his shirt off of the floor to clean you off with. you whine as it makes contact with your clit, and he chuckles and mutters an apology. he finishes cleaning you up and flops onto the bed beside you. "so," he begins, "feel like giving the viewers what they want and doing this more often?" he asks. you giggle, snuggling up to his body and give him a nod. "i'd be happy to."

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

Who else is in the ‘they are speaking - mind-to-mind’ theory camp?

I’ve had to accept that I’m not going to have time to write the fanfic I have all planned out in my mind. Not if I want to Write Seriously™️ and be a functioning human.

I don’t even have the time to write a long-arse meta like I’d love to. I’d love to spend a whole day just delving into my thoughts but…not gonna happen. As it is I’ve got about 10 minutes until someone gets home and I’ll be expected to do useful things.

So.

I think Aziraphale taught Crowley a useful magic trick in 1941. Our Part 3. Which we see during The Kiss in the Final 15 - when Crowley passes something to Az. What does he pass? Dunno. But it’s got something to do with this new communication ability.

This isn’t Crowley realising his feelings. They have both known their feelings for long enough. This is him realising he needs to put plans into action. Spurred by Nina’s words, and other things. They’ve been too conspicuous. It’s too dangerous. He needs to protect his angel.

All of this - a lot of acting for those listening in, but probably also anger and devastation at Crowley for putting into action the emergency plan without Az’s consent? But rather than being angry, I think this “I forgive you” is genuinely meant. Az knows Crowley saw no other way out for them. I think there’s a degree of bodily autonomy this plan takes away, but Az wants him to know that’s ok. He forgives him.

And that means more than “I love you” to me.

So while Crowley drives, he’s (oooh, is it breaking the law? Is it like talking on the phone?? Demon!) talking to his angel. I believe, telling him he’ll be taking his place as the Grand Duke of Hell. Ready to fuck shit up.

As we have Aziraphale (and Michael Sheen, master of microexpressions) joining in the planning.

Ready to fuck shit up.

And so we have our players manoeuvred into place. Head of Staff of Heaven & Hell. Ostensibly.

Not speaking. Verbally.

But mentally…that’s a different story.

[ashyblondwaves]

Prompt time

The morning after the "you love me real or not real" Haymitch starts to make jokes at Peeta and Katniss about the noise or that they have a glow. But then he starts to see the happiness between the two look exactly like him and Lenore Dove

PS. Do these prompts have to be a certain rating or can they go the explicit?

Hello and thank you for this lovely little prompt! Prompts can be any rating at all, I absolutely love writing explicit stuff :)

Nothing to Survive

I’m halfway up the steps to Katniss and Peeta’s, already thinking about the bitter taste of a cup of hot coffee, when I find the damn door’s locked. That’s new, and mildly inconvenient, since I wasn’t planning on knocking like a civilized person or anything. Peeta’s usually up before the sun, and he always has the door unlocked for me since the three of us started having breakfast together a few months ago. 

I’m just raising my fist to knock when the door abruptly clicks and swings open, revealing a disheveled but smiling Peeta. 

“Haymitch,” he says, stepping aside and allowing me to walk in. “Sorry about that, got a late start. Katniss will be down in just a minute.” 

It’s curious for me to rise before them, but I just shrug and throw myself in my usual chair at the table while Peeta goes to the refrigerator to retrieve whatever he’ll be making. 

Katniss emerges a minute later, moving faster than she needs to, her hair half plaited, and a shirt that’s definitely not her own billowing around her midsection. She wordlessly starts the coffee before sidestepping over to where Peeta is whisking eggs in a bowl. 

“Need any help?” she asks Peeta. 

“I got it, is the coffee on?” he replies. 

“Just started it,” Katniss confirms. 

It’s the way that she rubs his arm and fixes his hair that sets off my alarms. Katniss is about as affectionate as a houseplant, and Peeta is as consistent as the seasons changing every year. Things are starting to add up and if I think what happened did happen, I say it’s about damn time. I smirk to myself as Katniss sits herself down across from me. 

“Oversleep?” I ask conspiratorially. 

Katniss raises her gaze to me and scowls. She knows I know, and it just spurs me to continue. 

“What’d you two do last night?” I continue. Not an unusual question from me, we check in on each other, make sure the other hasn’t finally snapped. We frequently talk about how our days or nights were. I eye Katniss’ shirt. “I trust it wasn’t laundry.” 

“Haymitch,” Katniss growls. “Don’t.”

“What?” I ask, raising my hands in mock surrender. “I’m just checking on you two.” 

Peeta turns around and catches my eye. I see the smirk on his lips, and it’s all the confirmation that I need. 

“Well, it’s about damn time,” I finally say, and Katniss slams her hand on the table. 

“Haymitch!” She grits out. “I said don’t. Can’t you just listen for once?”

“I could,” I tease, taking a steaming mug of coffee from Peeta when he hands it over. “But that wouldn’t be like me, would it?”

“Alright,” Peeta interrupts. “Food is ready.” 

We serve ourselves in silence. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and fluffy pancakes are piled on my plate and I dig in, stuffing my face with Peeta’s flawless cooking, stealing glances at Katniss and Peeta as they chat with each other about how they’re going to spend their day. 

“Thought we could walk down to the lake later if it’s not raining,” Peeta says in a hushed tone. He’s speaking to Katniss only and their conversation is not meant for my ears, but I listen anyway. How can I not?

“Can we bring the hammock?” Katniss asks, taking a bite of her bacon. 

“You planning to nap through the whole afternoon?” Peeta asks with a grin. 

“Only if you’re there, too,” Katniss replies in a tone that I’ve never, ever heard from her before. 

They share a glance, and it immediately takes me back to days in the meadow with Lenore Dove. The lazy bliss, the banter… the love. I know she would have adored these two just the way I do, even if I don’t tell them enough, if ever. They know of Lenore Dove now, since I told them all about her while they worked on their memory book and now that they know, I feel like it’s ok to say something. 

“You two deserve this, you know,” I tell them, cutting into their domestic bliss. “After what you went through, what you’re still going through. To still have each other… that’s something special.”  

I see Katniss soften a bit, and I know that she’s thinking of my Covey girl and all I told them about her. Peeta smiles, and I know he’s thinking of her too. 

“She’ll never be forgotten, Haymitch,” he tells me. “Not only is she in our book, she’s in your heart. Keep her there.” 

I nod, not sure of what to say, not used to this sort of conversation between the three of us. 

“I will,” I croak out, and I don’t say anything else, because for once, they look like kids with nothing to survive, and hell, I’m not about to ruin that.

[maxlarens]

oscar and 31?

31) doing a pinky swear

random but i listened to this and this dj set while writing this

It’s difficult to resist the lure of the music, the dance floor that churns and pulses at your back. The DJ cycles through euro-pop, 2000s anthems and countless club classics that make you itch to get up and dance, something tugging in your gut when you don't.

Max and Lando have already gone into the thick of it, leaving you and Oscar at the booth. And you've decided that you're not leaving Oscar. If he's not getting on the dance floor then you aren't either. Even if your leg is about to fall off from how much you've been tapping it to the beat and you keep tipping your head back to say oh, dude, I love this song.

He'd made some offhand comment the other day, when you and Lando first made these plans, something about how he was boring, of all things. How he wouldn't be any fun at a club. It's been eating at you since. The way he'd said it, not like it was something he came to on his own, but rather, like it was something someone had told him.

The absolute last thing Oscar Piastri is is boring.

You hate that he thinks he is, you hate that he thinks he needs to be a certain way to make you happy. To make anyone happy. And you certainly don't care if he doesn't want to dance at a club— no one's going to die if he doesn't, and you'll survive a few hours in the booth until Max tires of Lando and his boundless energy.

Across from you, Oscar's taking sips of his vodka pineapple. His pale cheeks have been steadily turning more red the more alcohol that he drinks, it's cute. You're turning your drink in circles, watching it leave condensation rings on the linoleum table. The DJ is playing a remix of Murder on the Dancefloor and you're about to tip your head back and groan oh my god I love this song,

but Oscar is laughing before the words can even leave your mouth.

"You love this song too?", he raises his very nice eyebrows at you, smiling that closed mouth polite cat smile everyone likes so much.

You sigh, laugh, then roll your eyes at yourself, "Yeah. Love it."

He smiles into his drink, it turns into something a little bittersweet after a moment of you watching him. You think of the sad way he'd twitched his nose the other day, while he was telling you he was boring. Without thinking, spurred on by the alcohol, you lean across the table and swat his hand with yours. But you don't move after, you just slip your fingers into the grooves of his knuckles.

"What are you thinking?"

He bites the inside of his bottom lip, shrugs, "Nothing important."

You're not convinced.

"Is this about you thinking you're boring, Oscar?" —he raises an eyebrow at you, one that says maybe, one that says go on— "Because you are not fucking boring, Piastri."

He laughs, but its critical, disbelieving. More of a scoff than a laugh, but he doesn't want you to catch on. He's trying to act like it's all fine. That's how he is— it's fine it's fine he says and he doesn't let anyone see that things hurt him. He's so good, so nice, so unwilling to make anyone else feel bad.

Positive, optimistic to a fault.

"You're not," you insist, pressing your fingertips into his knuckles.

He shrugs again, "I'm keeping you here. I know you want to go dance. You should go.”

You’re shaking your head before he can finish, “Oscar. Please, I will live. Anyway, sometimes I want to spend time with you without Lando hanging around, y’know.”

Oscar snorts, sincerely this time, “Yeah, he’s—”

“Annoying,” you supply.

“I was going to say a pain.”

“Same thing.”

“Mm,” Oscar snickers, “S’pose so.”

Then,

“Are you sure you want to stay here with me?”

You slide your fingers down to his wrist, gently turning his arm around so it faces upward. His skin is smooth where you trace the lines in his palm. You're both quiet, looking down at your hands where they're intertwined. If you're honest, you've kind of forgotten why you did that— your thoughts feel loose, a bit disconnected. Oscar is warm and sweet and here. You just wanted to touch his hand you think. You trace a line up his ring finger without thinking.

"I'm sure," you say, a little breathless for no good reason.

"Promise."

"Huh?", you drift your gaze up to his.

Polite cat smile, he repeats, "Promise?", it's more of a question now.

You nod seriously, curling your fingers into a fist and sticking your pinky finger out, "I pinky promise, Oscar."

He does the same, lifting his hand up in offering. Your pinkies lock together, he squeezes tightly and you pull against him, like the tighter the promise is the more that you mean it.

[lucysgraybird]

modern!university!coriolanus x fem!reader. part 2 here, part 3 here

notes: this is not set in panem -- if you're looking for a vibe, think harvard/uchicago/any of the old-guard, upper echelon US universities. i have another part in the works that i'll post tomorrow or thursday. also i promise that they both have some crazy in them . It will appear in later parts

“Please remember that I cannot accept late work for this essay,” your professor says as everyone packs up. “The deadline is the deadline for work for the semester, so everything has to be submitted by then. This includes any outstanding work you might have.”

She shoots a look at a boy in the front row when she says that, and he bows his head.

“Have a wonderful weekend, and I'll see you all Monday.”

You shove your laptop in your bag, sling it across your body, and make a beeline for the exit. This is your last class of the day and you have no intention of spending any more time in a lecture hall than you have to. Just as you're about to leave the building, someone catches you by the shoulder and pulls you back.

“Excuse you,” you mutter, turning to see who would do something so…well, to put it diplomatically, bold.

There stands a boy with a shock of hair so blonde it's nearly white and eyes so blue they're nearly translucent. It would be eerie if he didn't wear it well: angular and bright, it's like he's been carved from the purest block of ice. His pale features are offset by the rich ruby of his sweater. He looks royal, though you'd think a prince wouldn't go around grabbing girls by their arms.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I've been wanting to talk to you for weeks, but you always fly out of the building and I didn't want to miss you this time.”

“Talk to me? About what?”

God willing, not about some group project that had slipped your mind. You're so careful about organization, but sometimes things slip through the cracks.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

“Who are you?”

His eyebrows (the only dark thing on his face) twitch, and you wonder if he's so arrogant as to assume you'd know who he is. He doesn't say anything, though, just extending a hand to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Pleasure.”

You shake his hand, finding the official-ness of it a little odd. When you open your mouth to introduce yourself, he stops you.

“I realize this is going to sound…odd, but I do know who you are. You're the only person I listen to in that insipid class.”

“Oh.”

Because honestly, what are you supposed to say to that?

“Let me take you to dinner, please,” Coriolanus says. “At least for the conversation.”

Your pause must spur him on, because he continues, “And you're gorgeous. Honestly, you caught my eye before you even started speaking, and then…well.”

He's very forward, but it doesn't come off as desperate. He carries himself with such a confident air that if he hadn't tried to be suave, it would've been more awkward.

You allow yourself to be flattered, offering him a soft laugh. His poise must be a front, at least a little, and you can put up a façade too.

“Why, thank you, Coriolanus. I'd love to go out with you, but I'm so busy with finals coming up…”

This is partly true – you're taking the maximum number of credits your advisor would let you, which is over the credit load the school has set, so you have a good deal of work to do. However, you're not above playing a little hard-to-get, especially if you are interested in the person. Half the fun of a hunt is the chase.

“All the more reason to go out. I know a spot if you're free tonight – one more bit of fun before hitting the books?”

“What kind of fun, Mr. Snow?”

“Well, we'll see where the night takes us, if that's a yes.”

It can't hurt, right?

“It's a yes. I'll text you my address?” You extend your phone to him, a delicate smile gracing your lips.

“Perfect,” he says, putting in his number. “I'll pick you up at 7:30. Wear something nice.”

“Where are we going?”

“A surprise, but it's very classy. You'll love it.”

You can't wait to look this guy up when you get home. “I'm looking forward to it. See you tonight."

“See you tonight.”

—

“Classy” is an unhelpful dress code, you're discovering. It refers to such a range of places, so you're left to take a guess and hope you don't make some sort of grave faux pas. You're limited in being overdressed as a university student, so you select the nicest thing you brought from home. It's a wine-coloured dress that skims just the middle of your calves, with a cowl at the neck and a sweeping back that shows a tasteful (yet tempting, you hope) amount of skin. With a thin necklace and some earrings, you could fit in at most “nice” restaurants that would be appropriate for a first date with a nigh-stranger.

At 7:25, you slip on your coat and heels and head down to the lobby of your apartment building. Something tells you that Coriolanus has a tendency towards extreme punctuality, so you'd rather not keep him waiting a moment.

Just as you suspected, at 7:30 exactly the silhouette of a tall man appears at your door and your phone buzzes with a text.

Coriolanus Snow: I'm here.

When you open the door, he is, indeed, there, holding a bouquet of white roses and wearing a red vest and slacks with a white dress shirt. He is nothing if not coordinated, you suppose.

“Ah,” he says. “Hello. These are for you.”

It is a lovely gesture, and it garners a genuine blush from you while you accept the bouquet. “Thank you. They're gorgeous. I didn't even know they made white roses.”

He offers his elbow to you, which you accept. Though it's odd, there's something sweet about his anachronistic nature. You, like any college girl, have had many a bad first date, and it's pleasant to have one with a man who is, at the least, polite.

“My grandmother grows them. I dropped by and picked these up on my way here. You look wonderful, by the way.”

“Oh! Thank you. I wasn't quite sure what to wear because I don't know where we're going, so I'm glad I chose well.” You glance over at his outfit. “We match, sort of.”

“So we do.”

He smiles in a way that's almost indescribable – it's not quite aloof, though it has some of the same calculation behind it. It actually feels incredibly personal, and sets your heart racing. Why this boy gets under your skin the way he does – the way no one has before – is something you have yet to discover.

Your walk with him ends at a black car, for which he opens the back door and allows you to climb in before following you. A scan of social media earlier had turned up tragically few results, and every single thing Coriolanus does makes you more curious about him. He settles next to you.

“So are you a polisci major, or are you just taking the one class?” You ask, unwilling to let silence be for more than a moment.

“Polisci and philosophy,” he replies. “My goal is law school directly after college, and then politics.”

“I should've guessed,” you say.

“Oh?”

“Not in a bad way. Just…you're very smooth. Well-spoken, attractive, all of that. You'd do well in politics.”

The corners of his lips turn in a slight smile. “You think I'm attractive?”

You laugh. “I certainly do, Coriolanus. I do have standards, you know.”

“Then I'm very glad I'm meeting them. Are you looking to do politics too, then, or…?”

“Honestly, not right now. I think I might stick to academia for a while. I don't have the stomach for pandering that you have to have for politics.”

“It's my least favourite part, honestly. I did some work for a senator last summer and the endless word-parsing drove me insane. No one ever says what they mean.”

“Right. The image of it all is fun, though. Like playing a character. But you don't have to do politics to do that.”

Coriolanus nudges his knee against yours. “Are you putting on an image for me right now?”

“A lady never tells. Are you putting on one for me?”

When you turn, he's a lot closer than you expected. You can see the spires in his irises, like cracked moonstones, and can smell his cologne: whiskey and spice and something woody, clean.

“You'll just have to find out,” he says, his voice low in his chest. It's said as a secret – there's no one else in the car, but it's as though if he says it too loud the leather of the seats might remember. These words were for your ears only, the rumble meant to coast across just your skin, and you shudder.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

The Theft (Gojo Satoru)

They stood in silence, a decade of distance stretching between them. The weight of everything left unsaid hung in the air. Until he stepped forward. A single stride across the chasm separating them. ... “You know," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear carefully, "on top of breaking my heart, she stole my favorite sweater." - WC: 3.4k

Kiko's Masterlist | AO3 💕 | ko-fi ☕️

AN: I talked about this briefly on the stream on Wednesday, and it's finally here! I wrote it with Goinko in mind. But no names are mentioned, so it can be read as an x reader, too. In fact, literally no one is specifically named in this one. Fic and title are inspired by The Theft by Atreyu, which is the song included in the story. It's not required to listen to it, but I think it would add to the experience! This is a different format for me, as I usually don't like including song lyrics in a story, but I felt it worked for the narrative! Fun fact: the basic plot of this story is one I've had in my drafts for almost fifteen years... but it hit me not too long ago that it would be perfect for Goinko! It's a lil angsty, a lil fluffy, a lil bit of tension, and a lil slow burn... Hope you guys like it :)

The Theft

“Hi everyone.”

The woman’s calm voice echoed slightly as she greeted the small crowd. She stood confidently in front of the microphone, a gentle smile on her face. Her eyes, however, darted anxiously around the room.

“We appreciate you being here tonight for our little spur of the moment show. And we appreciate them accommodating our silly request.”

The owner let out a loud scoff from where he stood behind the bar, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“It’s been a bit since we had the chance to ‘come home,’ so to speak, so we wanted to do something special while we’re here. For those of you who don’t know, we played our first-ever show in this bar more than ten years ago. Just a young cover band who had no idea what they were doing.”

“And you’re saying you do now?” the owner called, raising his eyebrows.

She laughed, along with the rest of the band, the sound resounding when all of their mics picked it up.

“You’re not wrong there,” the guitarist replied, playing a quick, playful riff.

The drummer tapped a quick beat in agreement.

“We’ve just gotten better at pretending we know what we’re doing,” the woman teased, drawing chuckles all around. “Anyway, we’ve got a short one planned for tonight, but we hope you enjoy a little walk down memory lane with us.”

As the evening wound down, she took a long drink of water before releasing a labored breath.

“I hope everyone else has had as much fun as we have tonight. We’ve got one more before we call it a night. Seems fitting to round things out with the first song we ever released, yeah?”

The sight of the small bar she’d spent countless hours in packed to capacity with people brought a hesitant smile to her face. Ten years later, it was comforting to know almost nothing had changed about this place.

“A fun fact about this song,” she began, licking her dry lips as she grasped the mic stand tightly, “is that I actually wrote part of it in this bar. I think I was sitting at a booth somewhere in the back when I scribbled a couple lines on a napkin and prayed that I wouldn’t lose it before I got home.”

She knew exactly which booth it was. The same booth they always sat in together. Except she’d been all alone.

Back where I started… I’m empty without you, and I want to disappear…

“I’ll admit I was a few drinks deep by the time I wrote it, so while I’d thought it was genius at the time, sober me the next day took a while to figure out what the hell to do with it.”

As the crowd laughed, she grinned sheepishly. She’d been more than a few deep. And really, the hardest part had been reading her half-legible drunken scribbles the next morning.

“It was worth it, obviously, because it got us to where we are today. Thank you all again for spending your evening with us. We hope to see some of you tomorrow at the show.”

She stepped back, taking another large gulp of water while the band began playing. As the music filled the room again, her eyes scanned the crowd absently, unseeing. Even after so long, she still struggled with her nerves.

Taking a deep breath, she rested her hands on the microphone, letting the words flow out of her.

He bends and he breaks If he gives, they will take away His passion, his pain, his grace He exhales… a thousand black flowers explode Into butterflies as they’re away

The untold piece of the story she’d shared weighed heavily on her mind. The fact that she’d written the song to cope with the heartbreak she couldn’t escape no matter how hard she tried. No matter how many drinks she used to try to numb everything. Heartbreak she’d had no one to blame for but herself.

Rip them out, take them Burn to coals as they crush him Leave nothing that resembles the soul of a man See him numb, see him crushed See him numb, see him crushed

Questions still haunted her. What-ifs that would never be answered lingered in her mind constantly. As she took a breath, her eyes moved to the booth she’d referenced, noticing the man sitting there, and she faltered before tearing her eyes away.

Rip them out, take them Burn to coals as they crush him Leave nothing that resembles the soul of a man Leave him numb, leave him crushed Leaves him numb, leaves him crushed

Her gaze was drawn back to the booth. Had he been there the entire time? A woman sat beside him, wide-eyed as she leaned forward in her seat, clearly listening intently.

One of a thousand of her questions finally answered. A reply she never expected to ache so deeply when it had been so long. A twist in her chest that she shoved down as deep as it could go.

Took the fire inside one too many times He’s burning over and out as he flails Up against the raging tides No more sides Everything you ever wanted to see: See it in his eyes  One more time One more time

One last look at his eyes was all she allowed herself, a fleeting glance as she took a labored breath and continued.

Climb down to test the waters My hands feel like they’re rusting away, yeah So I’ll pace around like a lamb before the slaughter I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me

The words she wished she told him. Words she wished she’d had the courage to say instead of running away.

Decisions been made obvious So I will return where I started  I’ll stay there Unfinished I’ll wither away

Though she felt the pull to look back at that booth in the corner, she focused on everything else. Anything except the knowledge that he now sat in the booth they’d spent countless evenings together — despite his distaste for crowds, despite how much he despised the smell of alcohol — with someone else.

Rip them out, take them Burn to coals as they crush him Leave nothing that resembles the soul of a man See him numb, see him crushed See him numb, see him crushed

As the music faded, her eyes wandered back to the booth before she could stop them, only to find it empty. It seemed silly for her chest to ache, for it to sting so deeply when she knew better than to think any other outcome was possible.

She knew better than to hope that he might want to talk to her.

Blinking quickly, her attention moved to the audience before her as they clapped, her answering grin somehow feeling genuine and forced at the same time. She felt an arm around her shoulders as her bandmates joined her, bowing instinctively alongside them.

“Thank you all again for spending your evening with us!”

They moved to the bar, each of them ordering a drink and she faintly registered her bandmates’ voices as they joked with the owner about how much better they sounded now.

“Yeah, yeah, too bad for you, I had to listen to your soundcheck earlier–”

Her ears rang slightly as she stared forward, exhaustion settling in her shoulders and regret rising in her chest. She couldn’t help but feel coming here tonight had been a mistake.

The drink in her hand tasted sour, but she forced herself to take another sip, then another, and another, finishing it swiftly.

“Gonna get some air,” she informed the others, pushing herself to her feet and waving off the offer to join her. “I won’t be long.”

Stepping out into the cool evening, she pulled a deep, cleansing breath into her lungs. Her mind raced, the shock of cold air doing little to help ground her. Still, she lifted her head to stare up at the sky. The stars seemed dim as they twinkled weakly, but the moon shined bright enough in their stead, almost drowning the lamps along the quiet street.

A whisper of her name reached her ears, so soft she thought she imagined it until she noticed the shadow from the corner of her eye.

Turning, her heart stuttered as she faced the familiar figure standing just a few meters away, his hands shoved in his pockets.

They stood in silence, a decade of distance stretching between them. The weight of everything left unsaid hung in the air. Until he stepped forward. A single stride across the chasm separating them.

“I’m… surprised you’re here,” she finally murmured, her throat dry.

He looked down for a moment, seeming almost sheepish.

“Heard you were putting on a show like the old days, and I couldn’t miss it.” He lifted his head again, his eyes burning into hers. “You look beautiful.”

Another step, this one larger, and he stood directly in front of her, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

He looked just as handsome as she remembered. He still towered over her, his hair strategically messy and his face perfectly blemish-free. The only signs of his age were slight wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, obvious indicators of frequent smiles and laughter.

The weight of his stare anchored her in place, his eyes still more brilliant than the moon above. 

Beautiful, flawless, untouchable. A statue carved from marble and far too precious to be around someone like her. His family had made that clear every chance they got.

“It’s good to see you,” she whispered. “How have you been?”

“Getting by,” he replied, his voice just as quiet. “Working. Old man is set to retire soon so I’ll officially be taking over when he does.”

No surprise there. He’d been expected to take over almost his entire life. One of many reasons his family had wanted him to have nothing to do with her. An odd sense of relief filled her knowing he’d been successful. It seemed to confirm she’d made the right choice all those years ago. All she’d wanted for him was to be happy and successful, even if those came at the cost of losing him.

Words escaped her now as she stood in front of him, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his observant gaze.

“What about you?” he asked, his eyes searching her face. “You made it big.”

A slight nod and a smile were all she could manage, but she couldn’t deny the pride in her chest at his words. She’d gone and made her dream come true despite everything saying she couldn’t.

“I heard the show tomorrow is sold out, too.”

“I’m… guessing you won’t be there.”

The statement made him hesitate briefly before he slowly shook his head.

“I don’t have tickets.”

Somehow even though it was the answer she expected, the words dug into her chest and nestled inside her ribcage. She hated that it bothered her so much when she knew it wasn’t something he enjoyed. It wasn’t his scene.

The treacherous part of her mind couldn’t help but wonder why life was cruel enough to put him in front of her after so long just to give her a sense of false hope before ripping him away again. But she knew that this was never meant to be anything more than a glance at what could have been in a different life.

Him being at the show tomorrow would have changed nothing, anyway. It wasn’t like she would have been able to see him.

Nodding, she stepped back, willing herself toward the door.

“I should get back inside,” she murmured, fighting the urge to lean into his presence. Staying near him was dangerous. “It was– it was good to see you.”

“Wait.” He grasped her hand, the simple touch sending a spark through her veins. “We should– let’s catch up sometime. If not now, then–”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She wanted to. She wanted to catch up. She wanted to keep hearing his voice. She desperately wanted to pretend that things were different. But she knew better than to let herself be swept away by the fairytale that was them. There wasn’t a world where they caught up without her yearning for more. And she wasn’t willing to intrude on the life he’d built for himself. It wasn’t fair to either of them, or the woman she’d seen sitting beside him during the show — the woman she could only assume was his wife.

“Why not?” he asked. “It’s been years, and I’ve missed you.”

She’d missed him, too. More than she could ever say. But she wouldn’t be an intruder in his life.

“You know why,” she replied, ignoring how her chest ached as frustration threatened to rise. He knew she wasn’t the type to be the other woman. At least he used to know. But even worse if he thought they could just catch up because he felt nothing at all. “I won’t– where’s your wife?”

He blinked slowly, his brow furrowing.

“Wife? What are you talking about?”

“The woman who was here with you.”

“Her?” His face scrunched at her words before he released a quick breath through his nose. “You mean my assistant? She’s probably home, or at a friend’s, gushing about getting to see you live. I only sat with her because she’s the reason I found out about tonight and I didn’t want to be an ass and avoid her outside of work.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“You can talk to her and ask,” he offered drily. “She might faint from excitement at meeting you first, though. She’s a big fan.”

He held his free hand up, wriggling his fingers to emphasize the lack of a ring. It made no sense to her. It was one of the expectations on his shoulders for most of his life.

“But your family–”

“They’ve taken enough of my life from me,” he cut her off, rolling his eyes. “They tried to set something up a few years ago, but I told them I didn’t care if they gave the company away to someone else just because I wasn’t married.”

“You can’t just tell your family–”

“Well, I did.” His eyes seemed to twinkle down at her now as he tugged her closer. “I never wanted the company to begin with. I wanted to be with this girl I met in college. She was really pretty, had an incredible voice, and she put up with me and my dumb family with a smile. But they somehow convinced her she didn’t deserve me.”

Swallowing thickly, she tried to keep her jaw from trembling.

“She wouldn’t listen when I said I didn’t care what they thought, and I was too stupid to realize that they’d already done what they wanted.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear carefully. “You know, on top of breaking my heart, she stole my favorite sweater. Been waiting for a chance to ask for it back.”

A snort of laughter escaped before she could stop it. Leave it to him to bring up something so ridiculous and silly.

“You’ve been waiting a decade for a sweater?”

“It was a nice sweater,” he defended, a smirk pulling at his lips now. “And she looks really good in it. She always looked great in my clothes.”

The statement had memories flooding her mind, the countless times she’d plucked his shirts or sweaters from the floor of his room. How he’d always teased her about liking them more than she liked him. How he had looked at her whenever he said they looked better on her, anyway.

His arm snaking around her waist forced her back to the present, his breath fanning across her face as he leaned down.

“I–” She fought the heat climbing her neck, her eyes flitting down to the loose sweater she wore. She didn’t want to admit she’d worn it because she’d been thinking of him. That a part of her had hoped he would show up. Hoped deep down in a place she wouldn’t even admit to herself that he hadn’t forgotten her entirely by now. “It’s a comfy sweater.”

“That’s why it was my favorite.” His voice held a teasing edge as he lifted her chin to meet her eyes again. “I’ve missed you.”

The words had his lips brushing against hers, and her heart pounded at the familiar sensation. Her eyes slid closed as she tilted her head back a bit further– the door to the bar shot open, startling both of them, his hands releasing her as she jolted back.

“There you are! We were getting worried– ope.” Her bandmate stopped abruptly, eyes darting between them as a sly grin formed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh, interrupt. Just letting you know we’re getting ready to head out for the night.”

They disappeared through the door before either of them could reply, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. They would never let her live this down. The others would probably be standing right inside the door waiting to ambush her.

“I should go,” she murmured reluctantly, meeting his gaze again as dejection bloomed in her chest.

This really was it. They’d gotten so close to… what? Reuniting? What did she think would happen? There had never been a real chance for them to work. Not really.

“When will you be back?”

“We’re touring for another six months,” she replied, “and after that… Well, this isn’t exactly home for me anymore.” Pausing, her gaze dropped to the ground, her hands fiddling with the sleeves of the sweater. Despite the part of her screaming not to, she just couldn’t help herself. “I won’t– I can’t ask you to– but if you want, we could stay in touch, and I could–”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate, cutting her off and pulling her close again. “I’d love to keep in touch. I want to talk to you.”

Relief filled her so quickly it made her dizzy, the smile on his face knocking the air from her chest. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered, the admission feeling more like a confession. “I know it’s never really been your scene, but did you at least enjoy the show tonight?”

His smile grew as he nodded.

“Your voice was just like I remembered,” he replied. “It really took me back. Had me feeling nostalgic, wondering how things would’ve worked out if I’d told my family to screw themselves earlier.”

They both knew that never would’ve worked. Not back then.

“Still such a sap, huh?” she teased anyway, drawing a chuckle from him. Glancing toward the door, she released a quiet sigh. “I should go before more of them come out here to snoop.”

Retrieving her phone, she held it out for him to take. 

“I… know it’s been a long time, and I travel a lot, but I– I really do want to stay in touch,” she said, watching him enter his contact. “I know it’s not fair to ask you to wait–”

“I’ve waited ten years, sweetheart,” he cut her off, smirking. His tone had a teasing lilt to it as he handed her phone back. “Another six months is nothing.”

She bit her lip to fight the smile, sharing her contact with him before shoving her phone back into her pocket.

“I guess that’s fair,” she conceded.

His arm around her waist tightened, and he leaned down again until she could feel his breath mingling with hers.

“Just don’t keep me waiting forever,” he whispered before pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek, “because I expect you to return this next time I see you.”

He tugged the collar of the sweater playfully, a smirk on his face as he released her and stepped back.

“You’ll have to take it from me,” she teased. Excitement shot through her at the sight of his eyes narrowing, and she quickly retreated to the door. Meeting his eyes over her shoulder one last time, she asked, “Until next time?”

“I’ll see you then.”

AN: What'd you guys think? I enjoyed writing it 😊 I thought it was cute and sweet. Thoughts? Questions? I might continue it to show some of their relationship in the past and/or write their reunion after her tour ends... 🤔

[papahetsleftnut]

heyyy can I request, black album era James with a younger female reader gf that is super nice and let's him do what he wants, but he took her on tour and left her alone in the hotel room to drink so she snaps and calls him out, shocking him. everything else is for u to dwell on (can he smutty 😗)

AHHHH JAMES REQUESTEDDD FINALLYYY

they put a content label thingy what the fingle 💔 also I was listening to closer while I got this ask so perfect timing ilysm

this is a bit short, I promise next fic request I get I'll make it longer cuz my writing has been lacking in the length :( if this was bad don't jump me I was very rushed ;-;

🂱 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑑 🂱

☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎☢︎︎

warnings: slight angst, drinking, smut, unprotected p in v, light thigh riding?, make-up sex?, overstimulation, squirting, uhh i think that's it, if I missed anything lmk, otherwise happy reading anyway love ya☺︎

𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹

Since you were younger than him, James always looked out for you.

You never cared what he did, as long as he never cheated, and he loved you too much to ever cheat. He felt like you'd be bored while you were on tour with him, but you always begged and begged for him to take you with him, reassuring it won't be much different on tour than at home.

Lucky for you, he couldn't possibly say no to your pretty doe eyes, so right before his next tour he said yes, and you beamed, excited for the scenery you could get a view of from your hotel bathrooms, and more importantly, your time with James on his free days.

What you didn't expect was to spend your nights just drinking what he had brought you. Yeah, you expected to be alone, but you didn't expect it to be this torturous. You didn't want to be a bother, so everytime he asked, you'd just say "nothing, it's all good". He'd ask twice for reassurance, but you'd always say you were positive.

Now here you were, two bottles of Jack down, drunk and turned on over absolutely nothing. He had called and said the band's going to an after-party for the release of their new self-titled album, and he'll be back soon, but that call was at 11pm, and it's now 2:30. You were just about to get up and find a way to get to him, until you heard his keys jingling and the front door opening.

You rushed to the front door, and he went up and greeted you with a hug and a kiss to your forehead, until he noticed the little angered pout on your face.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

He asked you, to which he got a slight hit to the chest. He looked at you with a confused expression until you sighed finally got to talking. "I hate to admit it and be that way, but I hate this! Each time you come home you don't ever do anything, and fucking silicone isn't enough! I want you, Jamie, I just don't wanna be a bother and ask you for a bunch of stuff, and i'm tired of it!" You said, a bit louder than intended. He looked at you with a shocked expression, and parted his lips to say something, but you cut him off and stormed off to the bed and lied down, facing the opposite direction of him.

He stood frozen, before he snapped out of it went up and lied next to you, turning you around and curling you up to his chest. You still had an angered pout on your face, but you couldn't stop your smile when you looked up at his ocean blue eyes, and your cold hand found his cheek and your warm lips found his. He immediately kissed you back, and sat up against the headboard, before nudging you leg a bit, so you were straddling his thigh. His thumbs dipped under the waistband of your shorts before slowly pulling them down.

"Get off on me, baby."

He said with a low and husky tone. His hand found the small of your back, guiding your movements. You tried to keep your noise down, until he whispered, his lips touching the shell of your ear, "Don't be quiet, doll. I wanna hear you." This spurred you on to move your hips faster, eliciting soft moans from you. You quickly moved off of him and went to straddle his lap. "I can't cum without you, Jamie." He gave you a smirk and went to pull down his jeans.

He rubbed the tip of his hard cock against your folds, making you gasp. "Please don't make me wait, James.." you whispered. He gave you his goofy smile and said to you breathlessly,

"You're in full control, baby..."

His words sent shivers down your spine as he slowly moved his hands from your hips to the bed sheets behind him, gripping them increasingly tighter as you slowly start rocking your hips on him. He left deep love bites on your neck and whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you started snapping your hips a bit faster on him, making him throw his head back and let out a high moan, way higher than the deep grunts and groans he lets out when he fucks you relentlessly. You kept angling your hips until you found his tip dragging against your sweet spot in the most heavenly way possible, making you let out a loud moan. Your hips instinctively rocked faster, making him see stars as his thick and veiny cock dragged on your walls. You were so lost in the pleasure that your orgasm hit you quick, sudden, and intense, squirting all over James.

You cried out and hid your face in the crook of his neck, basically crash landing on his chest. His hips started snapping up into yours, desperate for his own release. He was letting out whines, moans, and occasional groans. Your legs were shaking from the intensity of your orgasm, all the days he needed to make up for was all made up in just one round. James threw his head back, letting out a small whimper, as he had what was probably the strongest orgasm he ever had, his hot and heavy load shot up into you almost endlessly. How did one switch-up intensify both your orgasms times ten?

Who knows, only conclusion is it felt magical, and you'll probably do it again.

why do I feel like this is bad is it bad guys

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Run Free - Alpha!Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader (Part 5: Out Of The Woods)

Summary: With the full moon you and Ari spend time together in your wolf forms.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Angst! Fluff! Mention of Captive Situation! A/B/O dynamics!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 5: Out Of The Woods

You were in your room making your bed when you happened to glance outside to see the night sky. You stopped what you were doing and walked over to the window to admire the view. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky allowing you to see every star in brilliant detail.

Not satisfied with the restricted view your window gave you, you made your way down the stairs and onto the back porch. A smile grew on your face as you looked up at the endless sky, watching the stars twinkle and listening to the sounds of the forest around you. 

You sat down on the steps wrapping your arms around your knees as you just stargazed. You were so lost in the stars that you barely noticed Ari coming out to join you. Your only sign was the feeling of warmth that you always felt when he was nearby.

“This is the most beautiful sky I’ve ever seen,” you said as he sat down beside you.

“It is amazing, I don’t think I could ever live in a big city, the light pollution would ruin it all” Ari agreed nodding his head “Did you used to live in the city?”

“No, just close to one, I never really was allowed out much after dark anyway” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders.

Ari looked over at you sadly, you didn��t speak much of your time before you were taken but whenever you did it was rarely positive. Your parents seemed controlling and psychologically abusive. They kept you so sheltered that you barely knew your own biology. The fact that in the years you were gone they didn’t look for you didn’t sit well with Ari at all. It did spur him on to make sure the life you lived now was full of freedoms and everything else you deserved.

“You know it’ll be a full moon in a couple of days and Sammy said you're more than strong enough to shift now so why don’t you join all of us for a run” Ari suggested as he glanced up at the moon.

“People still do that?” You asked surprised. 

“Yeah it's not as common nowadays, like a lot of things where the world has grown more modern, people have less time to do what our ancestors did. Not everyone is free to do it, like emergency services and other essential businesses” Ari explained “If the full moon falls on a weekend then I can’t go on a run because of the bar”

“Guess that makes sense, kinda like the pack thing, people rely on it less because the world is more open,” you said making Ari smile as he nodded his head.

“Exactly like that, so you up for joining us?” Ari smiled nudging your shoulder.

“Yeah sounds like fun, it’ll be nice to stretch my legs and get out, feels like i’m only ever here or at the bar but even that’s rare,” you said as you looked back up at the stars.

“Do you wanna get out more?” Ari asked as he watched your eyes search the stars.

“I dunno, maybe, I feel like getting out and I dunno having a job or something seems like the next logical step but then I know I still get nervous around unknown alphas which is kinda stupid” you sighed shaking your head.

“It's not stupid” Ari interrupted putting his hand on your shoulder getting you to look at him.

“After everything you’ve been through no one would blame you for being wary around Alphas and not wanting to put yourself in an uncomfortable situation. Maybe we can find you a job in admin or something where the only people you’ll have to interact with are people you know and then go from there?” Ari suggested squeezing your shoulder reassuringly making a small smile pull at your lips “And I know for a fact that it’s absolutely something you can do, in the past couple of months I’ve watched as you’ve come out of your shell into this much more confident and amazing woman, the fact that you now so openly trust me when before you ran at the sight of me shows how much you’ve grown” Ari continued, when he looks back over at you he sees tears collecting in the corner of your eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you cry, fuck” Ari apologised scolding himself for bringing up your past.

“No, no,” you said grabbing his hand and squeezing it “These are happy tears I promise” 

Ari looked back over at you uncertainly “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, yeah alphas still kinda make me nervous but you’ve made me feel safer than I ever have before in my entire life, you’ve given me freedom and a second chance of life, none of this growth would have been possible without you” you told him a couple of tears rolling down your cheek.

Ari reached out to cup your cheek gently wiping away your tears. The both of you smiled gently when you leaned into his touch. Ari wanted nothing more than to close the distance and kiss you, and unbeknownst to him you wanted the same. Instead, he cleared his throat and let his hand drop from your cheek.

“It’s late we should probably head inside” he said, not really wanting to.

“I know but just another few minutes? Please?” You asked with a small hopeful smile and puppy dog eyes that made Ari want to bend over backwards for you.

“Of course ‘Mega” he smiled.

You smiled back over at him, the pet name he used making your insides feel all warm and mushy. You shuffled closer to him resting your head against his shoulder as you looked up at the sky. 

Ari kept his eyes on you the entire time, the stars were pretty but you were spectacular. The feeling of your head resting on his shoulder made his heart skip a beat. Unable to stop himself he nuzzled his nose into your hair breathing in your scent. He felt every worry he had about you, the bar and everything in between melt away and a sense of calm washed over him. 

Much more than a few minutes later you lifted your head from Ari’s shoulder. You nodded sleepily as he asked if you were ready to head inside. Ari stood he offered you his hand expecting you to drop it once stood up but you didn’t. You held onto him as you both walked inside and up the stairs. Only dropping your hand once outside your room, just to lean up and kiss his cheek as you said goodnight and slipped into your room.

Ari stood outside your room unsure as to what to do. Part of him wanted to knock on your door, even going as far as raising his hand to do so. The other part of him held him back, reminding him to let you make all the decisions. Flexing the hand you held he turned and walked back to his own room. 

A couple of days later was the full moon you’d been waiting for. You could feel the excited energy in the air as everyone arrived. Rachel who normally gave a playful roll of the eyes at the boy's antics was even laughing along with them.

“You ready for the run?” Sammy asked walking over to you.

“I think so, just a little nervous it's been forever since I last shifted” you admitted fiddling with your shirt.

“You’ll be fine it’s like riding a bike you never truly forget” Jake reassured you with a smile.

“It's been years since I’ve done that too” you pointed out with a chuckle.

“Hey, maybe Ari should take you on a little bike ride date through the park” Max grinned earning a slap around the back of the head from Ari.

“What these boneheads are trying to say is that it's a natural part of you, nobody can take it away permanently” Rachel assured you.

“We’ll all head out and shift and give you time and space to do it when you’re ready” Jake offered, everyone nodding in agreement.

You watched as they all headed towards the back door that led out to the porch. As Ari passed you to also leave you reached out and took his hand halting him.

“Do you mind staying?” You asked nervously.

“Yeah of course” he agreed waiting with you as everyone else headed out.

Once they were gone you could hear the howls of your friends outside as they shifted. Looking in their direction Ari could see the hesitancy in your eyes.

“You’ll be fine, just gotta take a couple of deep breaths and let it happen, don’t overthink it” Ari reassured you.

“What if I can’t?” You asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“Then it’s something we’ll work on, you don’t have to come with us tonight and if you want I’ll stay back here with you too” Ari said but you shook your head.

“No, no you go it's fine,” you told him with a smile.

Ari nodded “Okay, but look if it helps I’ll show you” he offered as he took a step back from you dropping your hand.

You watched as he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. His body begins to change, his shirt melting away and being replaced by dark brown fur. Once fully in his wolf form, he sat down in front of you allowing you to get a good look. 

His fur was the same dark brown as his hair, as well as being slightly longer and thicker than the usual wolf. He was already immensely big and muscular but his fun only added to that. Your favourite part though was his eyes, the strikingly light blue a direct contrast to his dark fur. 

He stood back up and walked over to you. Brushing his head against your leg making you chuckle. Your hand fell to the top of his head, fingers running through his thick, soft fur. You couldn't help but smile at the blissed-out look on his face as you stroked his head. He went as far as thumping his hind leg when you scratched behind his ear. He nuzzled up into your hand before pulling away slightly to give it a gentle lick.

You watched as he padded out of the cabin to join his friends who you could all hear playing outside. You could feel the pull to go join them, join him so you leant into it. Closing your eyes you took a couple of deep breaths, stretching out your back as you felt something shift. 

When you opened your eyes you were no longer at the same height as you were before. You were much lower to the ground, glancing over your shoulder you saw your tail wagging back and forth and you realised you had done it. You let out a victorious yip before stretching out your back and shaking out your fur.

Ari was sat on the back porch watching his friends play with one another. Tackling each other to the ground or chasing each other. The sound of a playful yip behind him made him turn, standing when he saw you in your wolf form trot out of the house.

Ari’s ears instantly perked up and his tail started wagging as he admired your wolf. You were much smaller and skinnier than him, but perfectly streamlined. He could already tell he would struggle to keep up with you when you hit full speed. Your fur looked silky smooth, almost like the moonlight was bouncing off of it.

As you walked over to him you lowered your head bowing in submission to him. Ari tilted his head slightly before walking over and nudging his snout against yours making you raise your head. He could see the surprise in your eyes so he nuzzled against you to reassure you. There was no need for submission here/

You began to wag your tail before jumping away down the stairs to go join his friends. Ari remained stood on the porch watching you run rings around Jake and Max, at one point using Max as a springboard to tackle Jake. 

As much as Ari wanted to watch you play and interact with his friends he knew they should start the run soon. Throwing his head back he let out a long howl that made everyone stop and join with him. The sound of your howl perfectly harmonised with the group like it had always been there. 

Once he stopped he shook out his fur before jumping down the stairs and beginning the run. You and his friends followed closely behind. He had expected you to stay near the back of the pack but instead, you closely flanked him.

You couldn’t believe how free you felt. Even the moment you escaped didn’t feel like this. You weaved in and out of trees, feeling the wind whip through your fur, whistling past your ears. 

You easily matched pace with the rest of the pack but you wanted to go faster. See just what speed you could get up to, but you could feel the unspoken rule to stay behind Ari. You knew that Ari wouldn’t mind if you pushed ahead, he wasn’t like other Alphas. This pack wasn’t like other packs, while they all saw Ari as their unofficial leader, they didn’t care about hierarchy. So you waited until Ari signalled for the pack to break.

Ari glanced over his shoulder and could see you were itching to break away. Wanting to run just with you he let out a short bark and broke away from the pack. He turned to the side you were on nudging you to run faster. He could see the sparkle in your eyes before you darted off.

Ari could tell you were gonna be fast but he was surprised at how quickly you had gotten away from him. He could barely keep up, every time he felt like he was gaining you’d dart between trees making him slam on the breaks so he wouldn’t crash into them. 

At one point you had completely disappeared from sight and Ari had no clue where you were or what direction you’d gone in. He slowed down to a trot and lifted his nose into the air to try and track your scent. However he could smell you in every direction he turned, he tried to listen for you, his ear twitching in different directions but he couldn’t work it out. 

You were crouched close to the ground as you circled him, making sure to stay out of his line of sight. You slowly began to stalk towards him, keeping yourself low, carefully placing your paws so as not to disturb the leaves. You had to fight the urge to wag your tail as you got closer and closer. 

Once you were close enough you pounced using your speed and the element of surprise to tackle Ari to the floor. He let out a huff of surprise at the impact before the two of you play fought on the ground. You stood over Ari playfully snapping at him as he twisted underneath you. He managed to get his paw on your chest pushing you off. 

You bounced backwards as he got back to his feet. Your tail was wagging furiously back and forth as you performed a play bow. Ari mirrored you watching happily as you bounced side to side enticing him to play. You were like a like a coiled spring waiting to snap, Ari was just waiting for the perfect moment. 

You circled him barking and whining for him to play but he was just watching you. You were mid-bounce when he finally pounced hoping to tackle you, however, your reaction speed was much better than he anticipated and you’d dodged his attack and had taken off again.

This time however you allowed Ari to match pace with you. The two of you nudging each other as you ran. As you broke into a clearing in the woods Ari made his move finally tackling you to the ground. You twisted underneath him but he kept you pinned standing tall over you. 

Once you had stopped wiggling underneath him, submitting to him, he dropped his snout down to yours gently nuzzling it against yours. A sentiment you quietly reciprocated, even going as far as licking his face. 

He gave you one last nudge before moving off you so you could stand up. As you stood you moved to stand side by side nuzzling your head into the thick fur of his neck. You then let out a large yawn and Ari could tell you were clearly ready for bed. He could hear the sounds of his friends still playing and enjoying the full moon, but he didn’t want to leave your side. 

The two of you slowly made your way through the woods back to his cabin. You walked side by side brushing shoulders as you walked. You however slowed down as you approached the cabin. Ari stopped on the porch turning round to see you stood a few meters away. He tilted his head not sure why you had stopped. It was only when you let out a low whine, one he always heard pups give out, one he used to do when he was a pup. 

You didn’t want to shift back yet. 

So instead of heading inside the cabin Ari moved to the corner of the porch and settled down. He then called you over watching as you pad over and settle down beside him.

Ari watched over you as you fell asleep. He kept watch as his friends came back, growling quietly at them so they wouldn’t wake you. Once they were gone he allowed himself to relax. Especially when you moved in your sleep to lie closer to him. He let out a quiet yawn before gently resting his head on your shoulders and allowing himself to fall asleep. 

The first couple of days after the full moon run you could feel the relaxed atmosphere in the cabin. However, a few days later you could feel Ari’s stress levels rising. If he was at home he’d spend the majority of the day in the office, where you could hear him pace back and forth. If he went to the bar he’d come home visibly tired. 

Whenever you could sense his stress you felt the urge to do something to help him relax. So you’d make him dinner, leaving the leftovers in the fridge for when he returned late at night. If you woke before him, or before he was back from his morning run you’d make sure there was a cup of coffee waiting for him. 

Today he was working away upstairs in his office, he’d been there all day. Not even going out for his morning run. It had gone lunchtime and Ari had yet to come downstairs for lunch. All you could hear was him occasionally pacing back and forth.

Not wanting him to go hungry you made him some lunch and a fresh cup of coffee. When you opened the door you found Ari sat at his desk, elbows resting on the desk hands running through his hair.

“Hey I thought you might be hungry” you said grabbing his attention.

He quickly looked up having not heard you walk in, he looked down at his watch eyebrows raising slightly.

“I didn’t realise the time, thank you” Ari smiled as you put the plate down on his desk.

“Everything okay you looked really stressed when I walked in” you asked him as he started eating.

“Just work stuff, it's fine,” Ari said shaking his head.

“Is it the same work stuff that’s been stressing you out the last few days?” You asked making him raise a brow at you.

“Yeah, just got a problem I’m trying to solve” Ari sighed glancing down at the paperwork on his desk.

“What kind of problem?” You asked him.

“The bar isn’t making enough money, if I don’t find a way to reduce costs and boost sales I’ll have to sell” he explained sitting back in his chair as he looked up at you.

“You can’t sell, you worked so hard on getting that bar,” you said shaking your head at the idea.

Ari gave you a small smile before shrugging his shoulders “I don’t want to but if I don’t do something quick then it might be my only option” He explained.

“Let me help, look over this see if I can find something, you’ve been looking at it for so long that you might be overlooking something” you suggested pointing to the paperwork.

“You don’t have to,” Ari said shaking his head.

“Please Ari, we spoke out finding me something to do maybe this could be it? I’m good at maths too, my parents didn’t let me go out much so I spent a lot of my time doing extra school work” You told him.

Ari sighed sadly at your admission. You were slowly telling him more and more about your past. The more you did the more he hated the way you used to live. The more he wanted to make sure you had the best life possible now.

“Okay, but I won’t blame you if you get bored” Ari said with a lopsided grin making you chuckle.

“Oh I won’t” you smiled grabbing a pencil from the pot on his desk and the paperwork.

Ari smiled as he watched you go sit down on the couch in the corner and start reading through it all. Almost instantly you started circling stuff and making annotations.

Ari continued eating taking a small break as you worked before returning to his work. Doing the things he hadn’t been able to get to yet.

“Have you thought about doing themed nights?” You asked grabbing his attention.

“Themed nights?” He asked as he looked over at you.

“Yeah I can remember my parents telling me how they met at an open mic night, you could do something like that getting local musicians in, or maybe even an omega only night” you suggested.

Ari hummed in thought as he leant back in his chair, rolling his pen between his fingers.

“Is that something you’d be interested in, an Omega only night?” He asked.

“Yeah, I mean I know not all Alpha’s are bad, you, Max and Rachel have shown me that, but I think there’s still a guard that goes up, and to be able to have a safe space to do that and have fun would be appealing to the Omegas in town” you explained making a smile grow on Ari’s face.

“That’s a good idea, i’ll do it, on one condition though” he smiled making your head tilt in question.

“You have to help me organise it,” he said.

“Oh no, I don’t think I’d be good at all that, you’re the expert with all the bar stuff,” you said shaking your head as he stood up from his chair.

“Yeah, but I’m not an omega” he pointed out as he walked over to sit beside you on the couch.

“I can guess at what an omega wants but I wouldn’t know from experience, so getting your insight would be valuable” he explained as you turned to face him “You tell me what needs to happen to make omegas completely comfortable and safe while also having fun, whatever you feel is right because if you feel safe after everything you’ve gone through,” Ari said reaching out to take your hand in his “then other omegas will too” 

You bit your lower lip slightly as you gazed down at your hand in his. It looked so tiny compared to his large strong hands, it felt comforting and safe being held by him. Your heart fluttering at his touch. Your gaze meets his, his bright blue eyes shining with reassurance.

“Okay” you agreed.

“So we have a deal?” Ari asked with a lopsided grin.

“We have a deal” you smiled nodding in agreement. 

“Great, now I saw you scribbling away so tell me how screwed I am,” Ari said nodding down to the paperwork.

You chuckled gently and shook your head as you grabbed the paperwork “You’re not screwed, I think if the themed nights go well and a couple easy changes are made you’ll be rolling in it in no time” you told him.

“You sound very optimistic” Ari grinned.

“I am” you smiled.

You started explaining all the different things you noticed. Where the margin could be increased and what supplies could be swapped out for cheaper ones. You’d even found deals he could take advantage of so he could get some of the more expensive alcohol for a fraction of the price.

“Wow” Ari muttered sitting back “I have been scouring that for solutions for weeks and you’ve come in and solved it in less than an hour” he said shaking his head in disbelief.

A bashful smile appeared on your face as you looked down at your lap shaking your head.

“Seriously, you’re amazing at this sort of stuff, I hate this side of owning and running a bar, I’d much rather spend my time actually working behind the bar than in the office, if you want you could help me out full time, work at the bar doing this sort of stuff” Ari suggested.

“Really?” You asked glancing over at him.

“Yeah of course, only if you want to though don’t feel like you have to,” Ari said.

“Yeah I want to, you’ll have to show me how to do all of it but yeah I’d love to” you smiled nodding your head.

“Great, I’ll add you onto the payroll” Ari smiled standing back up.

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” you said shaking your head.

“I wouldn’t be a very good boss if I didn’t pay my employees, especially one as important as you” he grinned as he walked back over to his desk.

“I don’t need the money though,” you said shaking your head, Ari’s reminder that you didn’t need to pay rent or anything while you stayed with him fresh in your mind.

“Use it for stuff you want then, treat yourself” Ari smiled as he scribbled something down.

“I haven’t even got a bank account and you should be saving not adding costs” you pointed out.

“We’ll sort that, if you’re working for me then you’re getting paid for it especially when you’re saving my business,” Ari told you.

“Fine but will you let me pay rent or something?” You offered as Ari walked back over to you.

“We can discuss that at a later date” he smirked making you roll your eyes.

“It really is your way or the highway isn’t it” you sighed smiling up at him.

“You know me so well omega” Ari grinned “Now let's go take a break we’ve done some good work and we deserve to relax” he said offering you his hand.

“What are you thinking?” You asked taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Why don’t we go on little run just the two of us?” Ari suggested a wide grin growing on your face.

“I’d like that a lot” you smiled.

Ari led you down the stairs and out onto the back porch only dropping your hand as he shifted into his wolf form. You chuckled as he leapt down the steps, turning to face you wagging his tail encouraging you to join him. You smile as you shift jumping down the stairs, nuzzling your snout into his scruff.

Ari then trotted away a short distance and called for you to follow. You trotted after him the both of you heading deeper into the forest. Unlike the full moon run, you and Ari took your time strolling through the forest. Your shoulders occasionally brushed each other.

Eventually, Ari led you to a stream that ran through the forest. You wagged your tail in excitement quickly running towards it splashing through the stream. Ari smiled as he watched you play in the stream chasing the splashing water. 

You turned spotting Ari watching you on the side of the shore not stepping into the stream. Deciding that wasn’t good enough you turn your back to him kicking your hind legs out towards him, splashing him with water.

He huffed in annoyance giving you a playful snarl as you looked back over at him. You do a play bow inviting him to come play with you. He charged into the stream after you, chasing you through the water. 

The two of you continued to play, splashing each other, trying to tackling each other into the water. When you stepped out of the stream you shook your fur out causing water to spray over Ari. He playfully snarls at you before shaking his own fur out and spraying you back. 

You huffed in annoyance barging Ari with your shoulder before dashing further into the forest. You heard Ari howl before running after you. You could hear his paws hitting the ground behind you, never getting close enough to actually catch you. 

You find a small cave darting inside hoping Ari hadn’t spotted you run inside. You crouch down to keep a low profile, staying silent waiting to see him.  You heard leaves rustling and twigs snapping as he approached. He appeared near the entrance of the cave, snout pointed upwards as he tried to sense where you were. 

Excitement got the better of you and your tail began to wag, it didn’t create much noise but Ari instantly looked over in your direction. You saw the excitement on his face as he stalked closer to you. 

He blocked your escape his tail wagging victoriously as you rolled onto your back. He stood over you as you submitted pawing at his chest. He lowers his head brushing his snout against you.

He then stepped back enough for you to stand up, as you do so a clap of thunder rips through the air. You instantly cowered further into the cave. Ari walked closer to the entrance seeing the heavy rainfall and lightning flash through the sky. As he glanced back at you he saw you pushed as far back into the cave as possible, shaking with fear, tail between your legs. 

He padded back over to you nuzzling his snout against you soothingly. He felt you relax slightly but you flinched once more when another clap of thunder rumbles through the air. As you whimpered he rests his head on top of you, gently licking your face to calm you.

Knowing that you’d have to wait the storm out Ari got you to lie down. Once you were settled he lay down beside you resting his head over your shoulders. You shift besides him move closer into his side, feeling his calming woodsy scent wash over you.

As the storm rolled on Ari kept comforting you. Nuzzling his snout against you whenever you’d flinch. Gently licking your fur like his mother would do when he was a pup. As the sky grew darker and the night drew in Ari encouraged you to fall asleep and curled up next to him, his head resting on top of you as you slowly dozed off. 

Ari tried to keep himself awake until the storm passed so he could comfort you if and when he needed to. But as he lay so close to you all he could smell was your lavender scent. He felt his entire body completely relaxing as he too fell asleep inside the cave.

When morning broke the storm had passed. Ari was the first to wake, gently getting up and stretching out his back with a wide yawn. He then padded over to the entrance of the cave, looking up to see the bright blue sky, no cloud in sight.

He glanced back over at you, seeing you curled up still fast asleep. He didn’t want to disturb you but he knew you’d most likely be hungry and would be far more comfortable back in the cabin. Walking over he nudged his snout against yours, gently waking you with the occasional lick. 

You blinked a couple of times as you woke lifting your head tiredly looking up at Ari. He nudged you again but you dropped your head, rubbing your paws over your face as you tried to get comfortable and fall back asleep. Ari gave you a light warning growl as he nudged you again getting you to stand, you huffed in annoyance snarling slightly to show your displeasure at being woken up.

The two of you slowly made your way back to the cabin. You tiredly leaned against Ari as you walked, Ari didn’t mind though knowing you didn’t sleep well last night. He would just gently encourage you onwards, choosing the easiest route home possible.

Once you got back to the cabin you both shifted back to your human forms. You let out a large yawn as you stretched upwards.

“Are you hungry, we haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday?” Ari asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“No, just tired, I think I should just go lie down,” you said shaking your head.

“You should try and eat something it’ll get your energy levels back up, just toast or something?” Ari pressed gently.

“You can go lie down afterwards I promise” he added when he saw your hesitancy.

“Okay” you yawned moving to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Thank you” Ari smiled as he set about making the both of you some toast.

Once you’d eaten you trudged upstairs to your room to go lie down. Ari cleaned up the plates, making himself a cup of coffee before heading upstairs to his office. Planning on setting in motion some of the changes you suggested. 

After a couple hours Ari had yet to hear you resurface. So he carefully and quietly poked his head into your room. He smiled when he sae you fast asleep, hands curled around his shirt that he’d given you on your first day. He doubted it smelt much like him anymore so he made a mental note to leave another out for you.

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[sequinsmile-x]

Burn Forever : Chapter One - Hope

She looks at herself in the mirror for a moment before she turns around, entirely overwhelmed by how her day had started in comparison to how it had ended. How she’d gone from waking up next to a man who she’d fallen out of love with several months ago to standing in the bathroom of the man she’d loved for years.

It's been months since they've spoken, but when Emily calls him, Aaron answers, and they spend December together as she picks up the pieces of her life.

A Young Hotchniss AU

Chapter 1/4

-x-

Hi besties,

Today makes it four years since I started writing for Hotchniss!! It's been almost 2.5 million words, 388 fics and a whole lot of feels. I will be forever grateful that I found this little corner of the internet and the lifelong friends I have made here.

Thank you for reading all my fics. For leaving comments and likes and kudos. I love these two idiots and your love for them too always spurs me on.

To mark the occasion, I've decided to write the most Vic fic possible. It's young hotchniss, it's an AU, its full of angst and feels and, because my first ever fic was at Christmas, it's also a Christmas fic.

I really hope you enjoy this, please let me know what you think - AU's are always anxiety inducing!! And this fic is already special to me.

Please note the tags before you read.

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

List of tags are on the master list

Words: 7.5k (I'm not sure every chapter will be this long but I'm not making any promises they won't be haha)

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Drip. 

Drip. 

She focuses on the dripping faucet, the sound of the water hitting the porcelain a distraction from the pain she is in. The repetitive noise something she can think about rather than where she is - a side room in an ER - and what had led her here. She winces as she tries to move, her hand flying to her aching, fractured, ribs. Bruises she couldn’t bear to look at when the doctor looked her over, her touch much gentler than the hands that had caused them, scattered across her chest and abdomen - an intricate pattern left behind by a man who claimed to love her because she dared to try to leave him. 

Drip. 

Drip.

She wished she’d never met Ian Doyle. If she could go back in time, if she could stop herself from going to the bar where she’d met him almost two years ago she would. She’s sure she wouldn’t have listened even if she could go back, her decision making at the time fuelled by a broken heart and the desire to feel something, anything, other than the pain of watching the person she loved be with someone else. 

Ian was different when they met. He was charming and enamoured with her, and over a decade older than her - ticking the box of being someone her mother would disapprove of which was never a bad thing in her mind. Looking back on it, she could see how she’d fallen into his carefully laid trap. How he’d seen this 22-year-old who was lost and vulnerable and how he made himself exactly what she thought she needed. Bit by bit, brick by brick, the carefully constructed facade he’d built for her started to crack. The real him slowly revealed each time he yelled at her until she did what he asked of her, or each time he came close to hitting her, his fists curled at his side as she tried to figure out what she’d done wrong. 

The first time he did hit her six months ago, the sharp burn of his palm still stinging on her cheek as he apologised, she’d lost almost everyone except for him. All of her friendships had slipped away, her mother had stopped calling, and she felt entirely trapped. She’d tried to leave more than once but always lost her nerve because she knew he’d find her, that he’d make her life miserable no matter what. 

Her breaking point was when she found him fucking someone else in their bed. He wasn’t embarrassed by it. Didn’t jump up and beg for forgiveness as he called himself stupid and tried to assure her it was just one time. He just didn’t care, and that was all she needed for her to decide enough was enough - he didn’t love her. He didn’t care about her. He just wanted her like she was a possession, a prize to be won and put on display, and she just couldn’t do it anymore. 

She packed a bag as the woman he was with, Chloe, left. She hadn’t looked apologetic either, as if she’d known about Emily’s existence, and despite everything Emily wanted to warn her. To tell her to run in the other direction because Ian would never bring her anything other than pain and destruction, that he’d chip away enough of her until she didn’t recognise herself when she looked in the mirror. 

“Miss Prentiss?” 

Emily jumps when the door opens, her shoulders immediately tight as the doctor, Doctor Lewis, who treated her earlier walks in, “Sorry,” Emily breathes out, her voice rough as she tries to force herself to calm down, her throat sore as she swallows thickly, “I…sorry, Doctor Lewis.” 

“No need to apologise,” Doctor Lewis assures her, the smile on her face so kind, so full of empathy, that it drives Emily crazy, “I should have knocked first. And I told you, you can call me Tara.” 

“Right. Tara,” Emily wraps her arms around herself, ignoring the ache in her ribs as she presses her arms against them, desperate to feel anything other than the shame she felt for being in this situation, no matter how much she knew she had nothing to be ashamed of, “Am I free to go?” 

Doctor Lewis sits on the edge of the gurney Emily is curled up on, “Nothing is broken, and your blood tests don’t bring up any red flags that indicate internal bleeding. I’d still feel more comfortable if we could admit you overnight,” she says, her eyes drifting to her neck, causing Emily to press her hand against her skin to cover the fingerprints bruises tattooed there, “Given some of your injuries.” 

She shakes her head, grimacing when it makes the pain there throb, “No, I…” she trips over the admittance that she wants to go home, because she knows she can’t, “I’ll be okay.” 

Doctor Lewis sighs and nods, “Okay, I’ll make sure you get a script for some painkillers. But I can only discharge you if you have someone who can keep an eye on you. Is there anyone you can call?”

She laughs bitterly, because there was no one. Ian had made sure of that, had dissolved each of her relationships one by one until she only had him left. 

Only one person comes to mind. She hadn’t spoken to him in months, had cut the one remaining thread to a person she had outside her relationship because Ian had threatened to hurt him. She couldn’t bear the thought of it even now - sure that if Ian found out he’d helped her that she’d put him directly in the firing line she’d sacrificed their friendship to help him avoid - but she had no choice.

Aaron was the only person she knew would answer whenever she called. 

“Yeah,” she says, smiling tightly, ignoring the pull at the split in her lip as she digs her cell phone out of her pocket, “I have someone I can call.”

___

It had been five months, three weeks and four days since he’d heard from her. 

It was the longest since they’d gone without speaking since they’d met, since he’d found an unlikely friend in the college freshman who moved into the apartment across. He’d been in his second year of law school and relatively new to the building himself after a breakup. At first, he and Emily had simply been polite to each other - something he had since learned she excelled in. Small talk the first of many languages she’d learnt. They would exchange pleasantries about the weather, or how the windows in his apartment didn’t keep the chill out, but slowly things evolved. One morning, when they happened to bump into each other in the local coffee shop, he bought her a cup of tea because she’d forgotten her wallet. In return, in a gesture that far outweighed his in a way he learned was classic of her, she bought him a cashmere blanket. He still remembered her smile as she handed it over, how it was somehow softer than the material of the blanket he still had, as she explained it would keep him warm even if the windows in his apartment didn’t. They became friends after that. He’d invite her over for dinner so they could study together, and she’d tell him tales of her childhood - the fact she was an ambassador's daughter answering his unasked question of how she could afford to live independently in her first year of college. 

Even when she moved out a couple of years later to a nicer place, their friendship only grew deeper. She helped him study for his exams when he took the bar, her intelligence only adding to her obvious beauty that he’d tried to ignore from the start, and somewhere along the way, he’d started to fall in love with her. He knew it was only one-sided, that she only saw him as a friend - a friend that was six years older than her - so he did his best to accept it, to be the friend she so clearly needed and had found in him. 

He’d always told himself he’d rather be her friend than not in her life at all. 

When Haley came back into his life, his high school sweetheart who’d broken up with him after his first year in law school, and asked for another chance he said yes. He’d never stopped loving her, had missed her ever since he’d last seen her, and he knew he had to move on from misspent hope that Emily would feel for him what he felt for her. Shortly after that, Emily met Ian. A man who Aaron didn’t like from the start, not just because of the jealousy he did his best to ignore, but because he’d met men like him before. 

He’d been raised by a man like him. 

As time went on, as Emily shrunk into a version of her that he’d never met before, one he’d only seen flashes of on the rare occasions he’d met her mother, he did his best to help her out of it. To make it clear that he was there and he would do whatever she needed - but he knew from his own experiences he couldn’t force her to do anything, and that it would only drive her away if he tried. 

The last time he’d seen her, just a few days before she’d called him to say he needed to leave her alone, she’d been wearing a thick sweater in the middle of summer. He’d watched his mother do the same thing his whole life, had listened as she pretended to be cold even though there was sweat on her temple, and rage that felt nothing short of genetic burned in his blood in a way it never had before. He’d shaken it off, tried to separate her from Ian and talk to her, but he’d never had a chance, the older man's eyes fixed on the two of them every time they tried to speak. 

Even though it had been close to six months, when she called him he’d frozen for a second, a mix of shock and concern rolling in his gut because he knew there was only one reason she’d be calling. The ringtone he’d set specifically to her number, so he’d know it was her no matter where he was, loud and jarring in his empty apartment as he looked at a framed picture he had of the two of them on the wall. When he answered only seconds later, her voice rough and shaking as she asked him to come and meet her at the hospital, he didn’t have to think twice before he picked up his keys and left his apartment. When he arrives, he barely remembers a moment of the drive, and knows he couldn’t describe a moment of it if he were asked, he all but runs into the emergency room. 

“I’m here to see Emily Prentiss,” he says the moment he has a nurse's attention, his eyes flicking to the name Jennifer on the badge pinned to her scrubs, “I got a call.”

Jennifer smiles politely at him, something he sees through immediately, “Do you have ID?” 

He clears his throat and nods as he fumbles with his FBI badge in a way he never had before, his desperation to see Emily, to know she was okay, overtaking his usual coordination, “Here.” 

Jennifer takes it and raises her eyebrow as she looks at him, “She’s already spoken to the police.” 

It makes his breath catch in his chest, her defensiveness and her mention of the police only confirming what he already thought had happened, “I’m not here as an agent, I’m her friend.” 

“Aaron Hotchner?” 

He turns at the sound of his name and nods at the woman standing behind him, “Yes?” 

“I’m Doctor Lewis, I’m the one who is treating your friend,” she says, smiling past him for a moment, “I’ll take him through JJ.” 

Jennifer nods, her smile more genuine now when Aaron turns to look at her, “Sorry, I had to make sure you were who you said you were.” 

He nods, “I understand. Thank you,” he turns and walks in pace with Doctor Lewis as they head down a hallway, “Is she okay? She wouldn’t tell me anything over the phone.” 

“I can’t tell you anything specifically,” she replies, her lips pressed together as they stop, her gaze drifting down to the badge on his belt, “You’re an FBI agent?” 

“Yes,” he replies, “But I’m not here to interview her-”

“No,” Doctor Lewis says, holding her hand up, “I know that, I just…I’d prepare yourself before you see her,” she says, her hands clasped in front of her, “People in her situation don’t need reminding of what’s happened to them if someone winces every time they look at them.” 

He feels his shoulders get tighter, familiar anger for Ian burning in his chest as he paints a picture he isn’t sure he wants to see. He clears his throat and tries to loosen his shoulders, not wanting Emily to see any of the tension in them when they finally see each other, “I’ve seen a fair amount of things on the job. Before I was an agent I was a lawyer.” 

“I’m sure you have, but it’s different when it’s someone you care about,” Doctor Lewis says, “She’s free to go whenever you’re ready.” 

“Thank you,” he says as she walks away, and he gives himself a moment to centre himself, blowing out a slow breath before he knocks on the door in front of him. 

“Come in.”

He opens the door as quietly as he can and steps around it. He’s grateful for the doctor’s warning, because despite it he finds himself frozen on the spot, his hand still tight around the door handle as he looks her up and down, the room quiet apart from a persistent drip in the corner. The faucet attached to the basin intended for doctors to wash their hands after each patient leaking, each drop of water against the porcelain emphasising the injuries that confirm everything he’d been hoping wasn’t true. 

Drip. 

A black eye. 

Drip. 

A split lip. 

Drip. 

A bruised cheek. 

Drip. 

A bruise in the shape of a handprint on her throat, fingerprints tattooed on delicate skin overlaid with scratches he assumes are from her own fingernails. 

Drip. 

The anger he’d felt earlier comes back with a vengeance, his grip on the door handle tightening as he thinks about finding the man who’d done this to her and making sure he never hurt her again. Most of his anger turns inward as he berates himself for not getting her out of this situation sooner, for not being able to stop what he’d seen coming like a freight train. 

“Hi,” she chokes out, drawing his attention back to her, her eyes fixed on the ground as she avoids eye contact.

“Hi,” he replies, finally stepping into the room and letting the door close behind him, his heart seizing in his chest when she flinches as it clicks shut, “Sorry.” 

She laughs humourlessly, “I think I’m the one who owes you an apology,” she says, wiping a tear from her cheek as she shakes her head at herself, “I’m sorry I had to call. They wouldn’t let me leave if I didn’t call someone.” 

“Why did you call me?” He asks, his curiosity peaked as he steps closer, making sure to keep his distance so he doesn’t overstep.

“You were the only person I was sure would answer,” she says, finally looking up at him, the whites of her eyes bloodshot, burst blood vessels painting a picture that she didn’t have to, “Are you going to say I told you so?” 

He chokes on a sound he can’t name, the vitriol in her voice not something he’d ever heard aimed at him before, “Em…you know I wouldn’t do that.” 

“No,” she clears her throat, shaking her head again, “You wouldn’t. I’m sorry. It’s…it’s been a long day.” 

He nods, waving off her apology, not wanting to hear it. The room is thick with tension, an awkwardness that had never existed between them even when they were strangers, and he hates it. Hates that it’s another thing Ian had broken. 

“What happened, Em?” 

“I found him cheating on me. I tried to leave,” she laughs humourlessly and points at her face, “I’m sure I don’t have to say what happened next.” 

She says it so matter of factly that it makes him want to reach out for her, to hug her and hold her close and assure her he’d never let anyone hurt her again. But he doesn’t. He stays where he is, a distance between them that had been forged months ago. 

“Where is he?”

She shrugs, “He ran when the neighbours pounded on the door and said they’d called the cops. The police are looking for him. I can’t go home because it’s a crime scene and…he might come back,” she nods towards her bag in the corner, “Good thing I already packed a bag.” 

He hates that keeps trying to joke, that this is so normal to her now that she’s trying to minimize it, but he smiles anyway, knows that this is how she needs to deal with this for now, “I’ll see if I can make some calls, ensure the local cops are dealing with it as a matter of urgency.” 

She raises an eyebrow at him, her curiosity breaking past her sadness, “And what connections does a junior associate in a law firm have that would help?” 

He forces his hands into his pockets, “Actually, I’m in the FBI now.” 

“You…you’re in the FBI?” 

He nods, “A lot of things change in 6 months, Em,” he says, and she closes her eyes, her jaw tighter than he thinks it should be given her injuries, and he sighs, “Sorry.”

“Why don’t we just agree that neither of us has to apologise for anything right now,” she says, smiling tightly, “It might make things easier.” 

“Okay,” he replies, “I’ll make those calls.” 

“Thanks,” she says, blowing out a slow breath, “If you could just drive me to a hotel that would be-”

“A hotel?” He says, his eyebrows furrowed, “You can come and stay with me.” 

She scoffs, “Aaron, no that’s fine. I’m sure Haley is pissed enough that you’ve had to come out this time of night. I’m not going to make it worse by staying in your spare room for god knows how long.” 

He almost doesn’t want to tell her the next part, well aware she’ll consider it another reason she shouldn’t stay with him, “Haley and I no longer live together,” he says, “We broke up a few weeks ago.” 

“Oh God, I’m sorry…” she smiles when he raises an eyebrow at her, “Right, no apologies. I can go to a hotel.” 

“I’m not telling you this to play the ‘who’s having a bad time of it’ Olympics, Emily. I’m telling you because I want you to know you don’t have to take her feelings into account. Just mine. And I’m inviting you to stay.” 

He doesn’t think about the fact he’s only got one bedroom. That his apartment is small and sad and screams single man. He only thinks about her. About how small she looks, how scared she looks, and he now he’s finally back by her side he doesn’t want her to be anywhere where he can’t make sure she’s okay. He doesn’t want her to be anywhere he couldn’t protect her, even though he knows she’d say she didn’t need protecting. 

He watches as she thinks about it, her eyes drifting back to the floor as she does so, and she eventually nods, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah,” she says, smiling tightly at him, “Just until I figure something out,” she stands up, wincing when she does so, her hands flying to her ribs, “You deserve an explanation.” 

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to about what happened today,” he says, reaching for her bag before she can try to do it herself.

“Not about that,” she says, reaching out for him, her fingers skimming his arm before it drops back down to her side, “About why…why I stopped talking to you.” 

He reaches out for her, his hand briefly around hers as he squeezes, “Later, Em,” he says, “For now, let’s just get you back to my place.” 

She nods, her eyes shining up at him, the dark brown eyes he’d fallen in love with making his breath catch in his throat, “Okay.” 

___

It feels awkward when she walks into his apartment, like she’s stepped back in time to when she didn’t know him. To when she was just his neighbour who needed to borrow a screwdriver when she first moved in. 

This apartment was smaller than the one he’d shared with Haley. It had the potential to be cosy, intimate, but it barely felt lived in. He had very few things scattered about, any photos of him and Haley they’d had up in their old place gone, but Emily’s eyes catch a picture of her and Aaron at his graduation from law school. Wide smiles on both of their faces as she stole his cap to put on her head. She picks up the frame and stares at her past self, her finger ghosting over the glass before she catches sight of her reflection, her bruises somehow even worse than when she’d caught sight of them in the elevator as they left the hospital. She puts the picture back down, her fingers lingering on the frame for a moment as she tries to recall the feeling of happiness she’d had when the picture was taken. She blows out a breath as she turns to look at Aaron, her tight smile pulling at the split in her lip as he watches her carefully, her bag still over his shoulder. 

“You haven’t decorated,” she says, desperate to say something to get rid of the awkwardness she hated between them. He furrows his brow as he looks at her and she rolls her eyes, a flash of the old her, the old them, peeking out from everything it was hidden behind, “For Christmas.” 

He chuckles and shakes his head as he puts her bag down on the couch, “It’s November.” 

She smiles as she sits down on the couch, barely covering a wince as ribs pull, “It’s December next week,” she says as she looks up at him, “And Advent starts this Sunday.” 

She’d never kept her love of the holidays a secret. He remembered that first Christmas he’d known her, when they had just finally tipped into being friends, and he found her trying to pull a Christmas tree bigger than her up the stairs in their building. At first, she’d refused his help, her hands on her hips in defiance as she claimed she could do it, but she’d eventually given in and invited him into her place when they finally got the tree up the stairs. He’d helped her decorate, dutifully listening as she told him where to place each ornament, and it became a tradition over the years. 

“You and Christmas,” he says fondly, and she hums, a distant look in her eyes he can’t place, “Do you need anything? I could make you something to eat.” 

She shakes her head, “I’m not hungry,” she replies, “But some water would be great if that’s okay?” 

“Of course,” he says, “Are you sure you don’t want anything else? I have that awful tea you like.” 

She sucks in a breath, her lips pressed together as guilt fills her battered lungs, “You have that here?” She asks, looking over to the small kitchen, at his limited cabinet space, and then back at him. He would have had to have bought it especially for her, and the thought of it makes her ache, “Why?” 

He shrugs, his cheeks burning with embarrassment he doesn’t understand, everything he’d never told her, everything he knows she can’t hear right now, lingering just under his skin, “Just in case.” 

For a moment she can’t breathe, his kindness almost oppressive as it fills the air around them, a tender kind of caring she’d grown used to living without, “Just the water is fine for now,” she says as she stands up, her teeth clenching as pain rolls through her. She needed some time to herself, a few moments to recalibrate, so she zips open her bag and pulls out her pjyamas, “I might get changed.” 

“Of course,” he says, repeating himself, wanting her to know she could do whatever she wanted here, that she had the freedom to make her own choices, “The bathroom is the first door on the right.” 

She nods gratefully, her pjyamas hugged against her chest, and heads down the hall without saying anything else, unable to breathe until she’s in the bathroom and the door is closed behind her. She looks at herself in the mirror for a moment before she turns around, entirely overwhelmed by how her day had started in comparison to how it had ended. How she’d gone from waking up next to a man who she’d fallen out of love with several months ago to standing in the bathroom of the man she’d loved for years. 

She wasn’t sure when it happened. Wasn’t sure when her feelings for Aaron turned into love that made her stomach flip whenever he smiled at her. It had snuck up on her. Kept in pace with her until it overtook her, her love for him one of the only things in life she was sure about. There were moments when she thought he might feel the same way back. When all of her reasons for not just kissing him would disappear for a moment, but then they’d come rushing back. Walls of protection she’d learnt to build before she could walk around her heart because she couldn’t bear the idea of not having him in her life at all. 

When he told her he was back together with Haley it had hurt more than she thought it would. She was sure she could hear her heart crack as she smiled and nodded and did everything she’d always been taught to do. When he took Haley on a date, his smile soft and nervous, Emily couldn’t bear to stay in by herself. She went out, ended up in the first bar she found and got lost in icy blue eyes that met hers from across the room. 

She had loved Ian once, in a way she now knew had never been healthy, and it was something she clung on to as she watched Aaron move apartments to live with Haley - their relationship moving forward like they hadn’t almost four years apart. She eventually did the same, broke her lease in the building where she’d met Aaron and moved in somewhere with Ian, unaware at the time it would be the first step in him having complete control over her life. 

She changes quickly, ignoring the tears that spring to her eyes as pain rolls through her as she lifts her arms over her head to change her shirt. She still doesn’t look at the damage done, deciding to leave it for another day, the injuries she could see on her face and neck enough for her to deal with for now. 

When she steps back out into the hallway, the scrubs she’d been given by a nurse when her clothes were taken as evidence shoved into the trashcan in Aaron’s bathroom, she feels a little better. On more even footing after the now unexpected kindness from a man who had only ever been kind to her. She thinks she hates Ian for that more than the bruises painted across her skin. She hates him for stealing her ability to see the good in people from her, and she promises herself there and then, standing barefoot in Aaron’s hallway, that she’ll claw that back even if it kills her. 

She walks back out into the main area of the apartment, and she finds Aaron making up a bed on the couch, the cashmere blanket she bought him years ago in his hands as he lays it down, “What are you doing?” 

“I only have one bed,” he says, as he turns to look at her, “So I’ll sleep out here,” he nods towards the kitchen counter, “There’s your water and your meds. I’ll go to the store tomorrow to get whatever food you want.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“You have to eat at some point-”

“No, not that,” she says, her arms over her chest as she looks at him, “Well, you don’t have to do that either, but I mean you don’t have to sleep out here. I’ll take the couch.” 

He shakes his head as he turns to look at her, “You’re injur…you’re hurt, Em. I’m not making you sleep on the couch.” 

“But it’s your apartment,” she says, her teeth sinking into the inside of her cheek, “I’ll just go to a hotel.” 

He reaches out for her as she tries to step past him but he stops himself. They hadn’t touched each other since they were in the hospital room, and he hadn’t missed how her shoulders would get tight every time she thought he was going to touch her. Every part of him itched to hug her, but he wouldn’t. He’d let her take the lead, let her have control over what happened to her. 

“Em, no. Please. I’m okay with the couch. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.” 

She wants to stay. She wants to stay so much it hurts, a sense of comfort that came with being near him that she’d missed, but she felt like she’d been shattered into pieces. Her sense of self scattered around her and she didn’t know where to start with putting herself back together. She didn’t know if she could do it with someone watching her, even if that person was Aaron. 

She looks up at him, sees the almost desperate look in his eyes, and her decision is made, “We…we could both sleep in the bed,” she says without thinking about it. She knows in any other situation she’d smile at the way his eyes get wider, and she chuckles humourlessly, “It’s not like it’s the first time we would have slept next to each other.” 

He laughs dryly, “If I remember correctly we both fell asleep sitting up on the couch. And we aren’t in college anymore and drunk on tequila after finals.” 

She swallows thickly, her lungs protesting the deep breath she takes in, and she presses her lips together, “No. We aren’t.” 

They fall into silence again and he watches as she folds in on herself, as if she’s embarrassed to have even said anything, and he clears his throat, “Okay. We’re adults,” he smiles tightly, “And it’s a big bed.” 

She smiles, and the relief rolling through her veins outweighs the pull in her lip, “I’ll keep my hands to myself,” she says, her joke immediately falling flat given the circumstances, and then she clears her throat, “I promise.” 

“Me too,” he says, and they both know it has a double meaning. That it goes beyond a bad joke between friends who could never have seen this situation coming, “I’m going to tidy up a little, but if you want to go to bed you can. It’s just down the hall.” 

She steps towards him to hug him before she stops herself, her arms as tight as she can bear them to be across her chest as she holds herself together, “Okay, thank you,” her smile shakes as she shrugs, “For everything. You…would have been well within your rights to ignore my call.” 

He shakes his head as if the idea had never even occurred to him, “You don’t have to thank me, Em. Like you said - I’ll always answer when you call. It’s what we do for each other, right?” 

She nods, “Right. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Em.” 

He watches as she walks down the hall to his bedroom, and he blows out a slow breath. He purposely takes longer than necessary to finish the chores he’d abandoned when she called, keen to make sure she has some time to herself. When he walks into his bedroom she’s fast asleep, half sat up to allow for the pain in her ribs she was trying to hide from him. He carefully adjusts the pillows around her to make sure she’s as comfortable as possible, and then he lays down next to her. 

When he closes his eyes, he listens to her breathing and imagines a world where this is life. Where she slept next to him every night and had never met Ian Doyle. 

___

He wakes up alone.

He half expects to find her gone, a note on the kitchen counter with an apology scrawled on it, but she’s sitting on the couch, a glass of water in hand and the cashmere blanket over her lap. He makes a point of ensuring he doesn’t spook her, his footfall just loud enough that she hears him coming down the hallway. 

“Morning,” he says, and she turns to look at him. Her bruises were worse now, dark purple blotches on her face and neck as she smiles sadly at him.

“Morning,” she says, swallowing thickly as she sits next to him, her throat sore in a way she didn’t know it could be, “I didn’t wake you up did I?” 

“No,” he assures her as he sits on the other end of the couch, “I’ve always been a morning person.” 

She chuckles and nods, “Right, of course,” her smile fades as she looks around the apartment, desperate to look anywhere except at him because there was so much to say and she didn’t know where to start, “You really should decorate, you know. It looks sad in here.” 

He can’t help but smile, “I only moved in a few weeks ago. I haven’t had a chance to buy a tree yet. And like I said yesterday. It’s still November.” 

“But only for 6 more days,” she says wistfully, allowing herself to get lost in the thought of her favourite holiday, “And it’s the first Advent on Sunday.” 

It’s a repeat of the conversation they’d had the night before, a topic they’d both silently deemed as safe, so he goes along with it, hoping over time she’d feel comfortable to talk about what had happened in the six months they’d been apart. 

“We never did the whole advent thing,” he says, and she tilts her head at him, “I grew up Baptist remember,” he says, smiling when she rolls her eyes at him, “We had a lot less ceremony than you Catholics.” 

She laughs, a sound followed by a wince as she presses her hand against her side, “It’s the only part of it I ever really liked,” she says, her smile fading as she carries on, the ghosts of her past never too far away, “Christmas was always…so formal and stuffy when I was growing up. It was all for show, you know? But every time Advent rolled around, my mom, my dad and I would light the candles together every Sunday. Just the three of us.” 

“You’ve never told me that before,” he says after a beat of silence, and she hums as she looks at him, shrugging one of her shoulders. 

“We never talked about religion all that much, what with us both being lapsed and all,” she says, “Besides, I haven’t done it in years. Or gone to mass. I haven’t even spoken to my parents in months,” she adds, not realising she’d let that slip until she’d already said it, “It’s just a nice memory. That’s all.” 

He nods and then clears his throat as he stands up, “I should make you something to eat.” 

She sighs, “Aaron-”

“You shouldn’t take these painkillers on an empty stomach, Em,” he says, raising his eyebrow at her as he steps into the kitchen, “I’ll make you anything you want.” 

She shakes her head at him, familiar love she’d never quite been able to stamp out sparking in her chest, “Bacon and eggs?” 

He smiles at her, his dimples carved out in his cheeks as he nods, “Bacon and eggs it is.” 

___

There are moments when she’s able to forget why she’s with him. Moments when she couldn’t feel her injuries, or when just being with him would make her feel like it was two years ago again before Haley came back into his life and before she met Ian. She’d wake up in the morning next to him, torn from sleep by nightmares and memories or the pain that had come from them. He had laid pillows between them so she had space, so she wouldn’t wake up and feel crowded if he slipped too close. It was a simple gesture, and so beautifully him, and the same feeling the tea had brought up that first night rolled in her gut every time she looked at them. It feels achingly normal to be with him and she does her best to hang on to the feeling before it fades back into reality. When the ache in her throat and ribs would make itself known, when everything that they hadn’t talked about would hang between them.

It had been three days since he’d brought her to his place and she hadn’t left since. He kept trying to encourage her to go outside, kept offering to go on walks with her so she could get some fresh air, but she was hesitant. Not only because she was worried about Ian, who still hadn’t been caught by the police, but because she didn’t want anyone to see her like this. Shame she knew she shouldn’t feel, shame that the man who had done this to her should feel, nipping at her heels whenever she considered going outside. 

She hung out at his place whilst he went to work. She’d turned down the freelance translation work she’d been offered for the month, not sure she was capable of doing it with everything else going on. Instead, she read Aaron’s books and watched TV, always making sure she was doing something to keep her mind occupied. 

On Sunday, just before dinner, he goes out to get groceries. She almost goes with him, gets to the front door of his building, but then she catches the eye of a woman on the street, sees how she flinches at the sight of her bruised face, and changes her mind. Her smile tight and apologetic as she looks at Aaron before she heads back to his apartment. She feels embarrassed when he comes back, embarrassed that she couldn’t even step outside. It’s dark when he gets back, but she feels reassured the moment he walks into the apartment, arms laden with more groceries than the two of them could possibly need.

“Did you buy the whole store?” She says, smiling when he laughs as he dumps the bags down onto the kitchen counter. 

“Almost,” he replies, putting his hand up to stop her from standing up to help, “You sit, I’ll put it all away. I got all your favourite snacks.” 

She rolls her eyes but does as he asks, swallowing down a groan as her abdomen aches, “You were gone a while. I…I was getting worried.” She doesn’t say that she’d started to worry Ian had done something, that he’d figured out where she was and hunted Aaron down. She isn’t sure she can go down that road yet, isn’t sure she can explain the depths of it all, so she clears her throat and tilts her head curiously when she sees one of the bags on the counter is different to the others, “What’s that?” 

He pauses what he’s doing and blows out a slow breath before he picks up the bag in question and walks over. He sits next to her, making sure to keep the now normal distance between them, and he passes it to her, “I got this for you.” 

She narrows her eyes playfully as she takes it from him, “You didn’t have to get me anything, you’ve done enough…” she trails off as she opens the bag, her breath catching in her chest as she’s met with the sight of a wreath with five candles nestles in it - three purple, one pink and one white, “Aaron…”

“The guy in the store told me I’d left it a little late considering Advent starts today,” he smiles and laughs nervously, now unsure about the gift he’d been planning for days, “He assured me it’s the right one, although the fifth candle confused me.” 

“You light it on Christmas Eve,” she says, her eyes still fixed on the advent wreath, “Aaron…this is…”

She can’t put it into words, can’t even begin to explain what this means to her. She’d mentioned it days ago, and they hadn’t talked about it since. She starts to feel overwhelmed by his kindness again, her throat tight with it as she chokes on a sob, but it doesn’t feel bad this time. It feels good. 

“If this was a bad idea-”

She throws herself at him, one hand still on the bag in her lap and the other around his neck as she pulls him in for a hug. She barely feels the pull in her chest, she’s only aware of him. Of his warmth and the way he carefully hugs her back, his hand tentative against her shirt, the hug so tender she could hardly feel it. She pulls back to look at him and only realises then how close they are. She smiles and clears her throat, putting space between them again as she looks down at the wreath. 

“Thank you. This…” she trails off and laughs, her lips pressed together as she stops it turning into a sob, “This means so much to me.” 

“I thought we could maybe go and pick a tree next week?” He suggests, “You always choose the best ones.” 

She nods and looks up at him, “Yeah. I’d like that.” 

“Shall I put it on the mantle?” He asks, and she nods again and lets go of the wreath, not tearing her gaze from it as she watches him place it on the mantle next to the photo of the two of them from his graduation. He turns to look at her, his smile soft and relieved, “Do you have a lighter?” 

“I don’t smoke anymore,” she replies, and he raises an eyebrow at her, making her roll her eyes as she nods towards her bag in the corner of the room, “It’s in the side pocket of my bag.” 

He laughs and gets the lighter as she stands up and walks over to the mantle, her fingers trailing over the leaves of the wreath until he makes it back to her. He smiles softly as he hands over the lighter and she takes it from him, flicking the switch so the flame appears.

“Do we have to say a prayer or something?” 

She shakes her head, “I don’t think anyone has listened to my prayers in a long time,” she shrugs, “If there is even anyone there listening at all. I just…”

“Like lighting the candles,” he finishes for her and she nods, “So it’s like a countdown.” 

“To Christmas,” she says, finishing his sentence for him this time, the air once again filled with everything they couldn’t say.

“Yeah, a countdown to Christmas,” he replies, and she smiles, resting her head against his shoulder for a moment before she flicks the lighter on again and lights the candle. They both stand there for a few seconds and watch the flicker of the flame before he steps away, leaving cool air in his wake, “Before I get started on dinner would you like a drink?”

She nods, her eyes still fixed on the flame, “Yes please.”

“Water?” 

She shakes her head, looking over at him briefly before she looks back at the candles, “Actually, I’ll have some tea.” 

He smiles, and she catches it out of the corner of her eye, and she sees in it what she can see dancing in the flame in front of her, what she hasn’t seen or felt in a long time. 

She can see hope. 

[isacksteban]

walk with me...

(i turned this into an au: masterlist)

this is a very spur of the moment not well thought out au but... JUST LISTEN. (more under the cut & in my pinned)

Lawrence Stroll bought a team on the f1 grid in 2006

Renamed it Racing Point to secure a spot for his 18 year old son (and put him in pink bc hes so cute in pink)

Lance Stroll was born October 29, 1987, he started karting in 1991

Fernando Alonso was born July 29, 1981, started karting in 1984

When Lance made his debut in f1 there was a lot of talk around the paddock about the nepo baby and Strolls choice to have both drivers on the team be rookies. (Stroll and Rosberg)

During the first race of the season Lance got p6 and Nico got p7, both scoring points for the team

After the race Fernando Alonso went to congradulate the rookies, both stunned because the race winner was praising their work

Nico was honored to be congradulated by a world champion

Lance was... well. Maybe he liked the older mans praise more than he should've.

As the season progressed Fernando continued to find reasons to speak to the rookies, even though it was evident he cared more about what the brunette had to say.

After both Racing Point drivers DNF in the 2nd and 3rd races of the season Fernando made sure to try and lessen the pain.

Each time Fernando came to the Racing Point garage, each time he searched the paddock to find #18, each time he spoke it only made the 18 year olds heart grow fonder.

Lance thought the driver was like this to every rookie, so caring and comforting, but that just wasn't the case.

He was known for not going out of his way to do anything like he was doing with the Racing Point drivers.

After Lance got 6th in the 4th race of the season Fernando was the first to congratulate him, as if he hadn't just gotten second.

He noticed at the next race that he didn't go out of his way to congradulate Nico on his 7th place, he just went straight to him to comfort him about yet another DNF.

Before then he hadn't thought too much about Fernandos intentions or why exactly he was talking to him so much.

By this time in the season fans had started to notice how close the two had gotten, seeing how they naturally gravitated towards eachother.

When Fernando won the next race Lance made sure to beat him to it and congratulate the world champion first, loving how it brought a smile to his face.

Fernando didn't smile like that when others congratulated him, didn't smile like that when being asked about his wins, didn't smile like that when Nico said the exact same thing.

Lance felt insane for thinking this way but he couldn't help but feel a little special.

A few races later in America was the first time Fernando wasn't on the podium, the first time they spent the whole time after the race together.

It was nice, being in his presence, he felt like a sunbather in the sun anytime the older man spoke to him, it was silly but it was always his favourite part of the race week.

The next time he wasn't on podium was in Germany, he almost felt bad for feeling this way but he looked forward to the days when Fernando got p4 or lower because it meant they'd spend the whole afternoon together.

It was just like in America, the two of them just standing around going over the week and the last few races until Fernando asked him a question.

"Have you ever kissed someone?"

Lance laughed at the question, unsure where it came from

"Have I kissed anyone?" He asked back, wondering if it was a serious question

"Si, you do know what kissing is, no?"

Lance couldn't help but laugh again, he was 18 not 8, of course he knew what kissing was.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Lance asked, knowing for a fact he had, it'd be insane if not, how could someone so stunning not have kissed someone? How could someone with girls around him constantly have not kissed someone and more.

"I asked first, Lancito."

Fernando had called him that almost constantly since the season started yet every time it never failed to make the youngers heart flutter.

"No" He admitted, almost embarrassed "I'm not very good with people" he added, knowing the only people on the grid he could talk to easily were Fernando and Nico

"I could be your first"

(if this doesn't make sense pretend u never saw it)

[teeth--king]

Hello! Sorry if you've already been asked this question, but I couldn't find any answers to it!

How is Wolfe's relationship with the other inhabitants of Pelican Town?

How does Wolfe get along with, for example, Penny and Pam, or Willy and Linus

Is Wolfe friends with other inhabitants?

I love your art. Elliott is my favourite character, so I enjoy your fanarts a lot.

Have a nice day!

Do not apologize, I have not been asked this as of yet, I tend to be too anxious to speak about my farmer and his lore much so this is very much appreciated in fact. Thank you for that. (and thank you for the compliment, he has brought me joy for sometime and I am happy to share that joy with others! hope you have a nice day as well)

Putting it under a read more as I do not want to accidentally clutter anything.

Wolfe is friends with a good handful of the valley's residents, but it took him time as like myself, he is very anxious and light of words in unfamiliar or tense situations. His first friend in the valley was Emily, she took him under her wing as she could tell that he was extremely awkward and needed help making the first step in social situations. This was very much appreciated by him as he nearly left the valley right after arriving due to second thoughts and fear of not fitting in.

Another resident he's close with is Willy. He of course was drawn to Willy due to his fisher profession, but what really cemented it was that Wolfe loved hearing his tales of the sea from both his and his father's voyages. Wolfe does see Willy as a semi father figure for himself, but more so someone of respect and who has lived their life in their own way, which is something he strives for.

(sketches stop here, I was going to do more but my brain has not been very kind to me lately so this is all that I could muster)

The final of his early friendships he make is Linus. Wolfe tends to spend a good chunk of time time foraging and fishing, so he would end up in the mountains semi frequently(he hangs in the mountains or at the beach most of the time). Linus is another person he respects, his respect for the earth is very admirable to Wolfe. Linus has also fished him out of the mines too many times so they have bonded over that as well.

Later on he befriends Leah, Maru, and Sam (and maybe Demetrius, haven't decided but they're both science autism) when he becomes more comfortable with talking with others around town. He connects with Leah over a shared love of the arts(I don't talk about it much[anxiety] but Wolfe has an small artistic side as a hobby, mainly around sketching wildlife and his farm animals[might add more but don't want to make him too much of my self insert as an artist]), he was originally too scared to talk to her as he thought she was too cool and rarely got the chance to talk to her because of that. He starts to befriend Maru after he delivers a request that she ordered and they both realize that they can go off on scientific rambles and the other would listen and understand what they were talking about(to a degree). Finally Sam, they only started to bond more after the closure of Joja when Sam instead works for the library/museum. There Sam would ask him what something was after Wolfe donated anything, despite Sam rarely holding the information(no fault of his own[ADHD man]) he would enjoy doing it especially if it spurred a friendly conversation after.

There are a few people that I wouldn't call his friends but more so they have mutual respect and acceptance of each other and might chill and maybe chat. This includes Robin(most friendly of the bunch despite not being "friends"), Sebastian(I hc him as trans so trans respect), Harvey, Penny, Gus, Marnie, and the Wizard(he comes to him with lots of questions, and honestly one of the few residents he actually wants to befriend but the Wizard does not rub me as one for friendships).

There are a few villagers he's still hasn't fully concurred his anxiety around(George, Pam, and Alex), but there is only one resident he actively dislikes to an extent and it's Lewis. Lewis is one of the few members of the valley who slightly remember him from when he'd visit his grandfather's farm as a child, so not as Wolfe. Because of this Lewis was put off when he first arrived in the valley as the former owner's grandson and not as the granddaughter that he expected. Wolfe was originally trying to be stealth about it but Lewis was seen as a road block for him. He also does not respect Lewis's ability to run the town and does not think he's doing the best for the residents(he does not know what to do about it but is just bitter beneath the skin when it comes to that).

If I left anything out or have anything that you would like elaborated I would love to know! My brain is a bit of a mush at the moment so apologies if this is scrambled or missing any part, I also got a bit over excited and anxious to speak, so it may be a bit muddled due to that contrasting concoction. But seriously thank you for asking.