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[idalenn]

The Delousery communal showers.

[nerdallwritey]

Cheeks All Flushed (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Unfortunately this chapter was longer than tumblr wanted, so I've split it into two posts. The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading. OR It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (This particular part is 18.5k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 3 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read the first two parts!! It means so much to me that you guys are enjoying my writing and silliness. This chapter is much more slice-of-life than the last two parts, in that it's mostly fun at the Tiefling party with less smut. It's also the longest part so far! Apologies to those of you here for vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder of where Part 2 ended, you and Astarion just entered camp after dallying, even though Shadowheart told you not to. Rest in peace, you will be missed.

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

@minestrones, @mizuki-nautilus

It was Wyll who spotted you first. He’d been wandering close to the treeline, gathering extra kindling for the fire, but something told you he’d also been keeping an eye out for you.

“You two are in heaps of trouble,” he muttered, ushering you behind Karlach’s currently vacant tent. “You’re lucky it was me who saw you first.”

“How is she?” you whispered, looking around to see if you could spot Shadowheart.

“I think seeing you might calm her down,” Wyll said, “but be prepared for an earful.”

“Oh please,” Astarion scoffed. “I’ve dealt with worse than an affronted cleric of Shar-'' He stepped out from behind Karlach’s tent and was met face to face with the cleric in question.  

“What was that?” Shadowheart’s hands were on her hips.

Astarion retreated, shielding half of his body behind you. “Hello, Shadowheart,” he waved his fingers delicately and smiled awkwardly. 

You leaned over to Wyll. “Save yourself,” you muttered. “We’ll be fine.”

Wyll gave you a sympathetic look and nodded. “Coming, Karlach!” he called, to which Karlach responded, “What?”

Shadowheart stood before you, looking frustrated and tapping her foot. You adjusted the pile of blankets in your arms. 

“Got the blankets,” you said sheepishly. Astarion raised his pile up a little higher in agreement.

“What was the one thing I said?” Shadowheart ignored the blankets.

You sighed. “‘Don’t dally.’”

“Mhm. And what did you do?”

“We-”

“Astarion?” Shadowheart turned to the vampire. 

He let out a reluctant whining sound. “We dallied.”

Shadowheart looked pleased by his admission. “Whose idea was it?”

You and Astarion shared a look. 

“Don’t tell me, I already know it was Astarion’s,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

Astarion scoffed. “You don’t know that!”

Shadowheart raised a doubtful eyebrow and looked at you. You avoided her gaze. She looked back at Astarion. “Yes I do.” 

“Darling,” Astarion hissed at you.

“I didn’t say anything!” you hissed back.

Suddenly Shadowheart grabbed Astarion’s left ear and your right ear and pulled you both out from behind Karlach’s tent. You and Astarion protested as you went.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Ah! Watch the hair, you heathen!”

Shadowheart flung her arms forward, releasing both of you and sending you stumbling forward towards the roaring fire. You caught yourselves before crashing into the flames. 

“You could have KILLED us just now!” Astarion exclaimed.

Shadowheart ignored him. “Look who’s finally back,” she addressed the rest of camp. 

Lae’zel scoffed, pausing the loud sharpening of her greatsword. “I must give you credit, Astarion, you last longer than I would have thought.”

Astarion straightened. “Thank you, I- hey.”

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to her blade. 

“Sorry, everyone,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “We lost track of time, that’s all.” You adjusted the blankets still in your arms.

“We have nothing to apologize for,” Astarion said, moving close to you and going to kiss your cheek, but thinking better of it when he saw steam pouring from Shadowheart’s ears. “Sorry,” he said to her softly. 

Shadowheart pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head disapprovingly. She clapped her hands together before she spoke. “Okay,” she said and turned to face you, “go wash those blankets and hang them to dry.” You nodded and she turned to Astarion. “Once you help carry those blankets to the lake, you are to help Lae’zel hunt for tonight’s dinner.”

Astarion made to argue. “But-”

“‘But’ nothing. I want the two of you as far away from each other as possible until everything is prepared for tonight’s festivities.”

“Here, here,” Gale agreed from over by the cookware. 

“Oof, tough break,” Karlach smirked. 

Astarion sniffed. “Just because some of us aren’t getting laid, doesn’t mean all of us should suffer the same fate.”

You hid your face in the laundry you were holding and groaned loudly. 

“Watch it, Fangs,” Karlach warned.

Shadowheart took you by the shoulders and turned you towards the lakeshore. “Go,” she said, a bit of a bite to the word. 

“Yes ma’am,” you sighed and started making your way to the waters gently lapping the sand by Withers. 

“You too, Astarion,” you heard Shadowheart behind you. 

“I’m going,” Astarion spat. His footsteps caught up with yours. 

You dropped the blankets by the waterline and grabbed the bucket and soap that you kept nearby for laundry duty, one of your commonly assigned chores. Astarion’s pile of blankets joined your own, then his arms came around your waist from behind, and his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“Sorry, love,” he murmured, kissing your cheek. 

“At least we’re not dead,” you leaned into his caress. 

“You are so incredibly out in the open it’s unbelievable,” Shadowheart called from a few yards away. 

“GIVE US A MOMENT,” Astarion snapped back in her direction. He turned to look at you, his frustration turning into fondness. “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed the crown of your head just as Lae’zel began to complain. 

“Let’s go, vampire. Before someone else steals what is rightfully ours.”

“I’m not anyone’s!” you complained to the sky above you.

“Is it truly so hard to believe that she actually likes me?” Astarion asked as he made his way to his tent to prepare for the hunt.

“You are handsome but weak,” Lae’zel informed. “Far from the optimal pleasure partner.”

“I could make you eat those words,” Astarion teased.

“You would not last a single minute with me,” Lae’zel said and then returned to her own tent to prepare. 

You sighed, embarrassed but not surprised by the camp’s reaction to your delayed arrival with Astarion. There was no talking your way out of it, especially with Astarion’s line about getting laid. The bastard. He could be so annoying sometimes.

At least you didn’t have to dance around it. Even though less than twenty-four hours ago you would have insisted that there was nothing going on between you and the Astarion, now you smiled to yourself, happy that that was no longer the case. 

“Thou hast now a bosom companion-”

“MISTRESS OF REVEL,” you yelped, clutching a hand to your chest to slow the pounding of your heart. You exhaled and turned to see Withers looking more or less unbothered. “You scared me, Withers.”

“Take care that thou are not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.” 

You stared at him. “Gods, you sleep with a guy ONE time.”

Withers stared back.

“Okay, two times.”

The stare continued.

“Okay, so he made me cum, like, five times total, is that what you want to hear?”

Withers said nothing. 

You groaned and picked up a blanket, hiking your pants up your legs. “Whatever, stop looking at me.” You waded out into the water, blanket in one hand, soap and bucket in the other. 

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

“All becomes dust and bone,” you mocked quietly. “You’re a pretty morbid guy, you know that?”

You looked over at him and swore you could see a small smile before his expression faded into one of cool indifference as usual. 

~~~~~

It had taken nearly all afternoon to finish washing and hanging all the blankets to dry on  the makeshift clothesline you’d erected lining the water’s edge, but you’d done it. Shadowheart had been kind enough to cast Lesser Restoration on you to combat the fatigue of blood loss and to help fade the marks still leftover on your neck. As a result, all you’d suffered from washing was some mild back pain from constantly bending to dunk and soap the blankets and standing back up to hang them. Laundry out here wasn’t the easiest task, especially without the proper tools you’d usually find in the city, but you enjoyed the peace that came from the still waters of the lake. Today, you’d been extra thorough in your work and you were pretty sure the blankets were cleaner now than they had been when Astarion had nicked them from your companions in the first place. 

Speaking of your companions, Shadowheart was doing her best to keep Astarion away from you for as long as possible. When he’d come back from hunting with Lae’zel, she’d made him help Gale prepare the meat.

“Even though I can’t partake in the meal,” he’d protested, “I have to help prepare it? Really?”

“Ah, relax,” Gale smacked him a little too hard on the back, “you can drain it dry first. Much easier if you go to town on the creature rather than letting me exsanguinate it myself with a blade.”

“I’m not some personal predator,” Astarion crossed his arms. A beat. “But fine, I suppose I can help this one time.”

After he’d drained tonight’s meal, a large wild boar, Shadowheart had sent him and Wyll to scavenge for more wine at the Blighted Village. He’d complained about the long trek and the poor quality of the wine they’d probably find, but Wyll had been able to drag him off after a bit of flattery and the batting of eyes. The man was too easy sometimes. 

By then, the sun hung low in the sky and you’d asked Karlach to come stand by the blankets and act as a heater to speed up the drying process. 

“Do you miss him already?” she teased.

“Who?” you teased back, adjusting another blanket.

“Do you loooove him?”

You sputtered. “What?! No! I mean- I don’t know! This is new for me, and new for him and we’re figuring things out, we’ve barely talked about it and-”

She laughed at your word vomit. “Was it good?”

You paused. “Was what good?”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “You know what.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart begin to pound. “Can we not talk about this?”

Karlach groaned. “Come on Soldier, I’m so pent up it’s criminal! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“Karlach!” You whisper shouted. Luckily the others were too busy with their assigned preparation tasks to pay attention to the two of you huddled behind the damp blankets. 

She didn’t say anything, but raised her eyebrows at you to encourage you to talk.

You sighed and avoided eye contact. “It was really good,” you muttered, hoping she might not hear you.

A smug smile graced her lips. “I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, wringing the water out of one of the blankets on the end of the clothesline. 

“He seems like the type who’d know his way around.”

“Yeah, well.”

“And how does he compare? Best you’ve ever had?”

“Um…” You pursed your lips.

“Wait, but you just said it was really good?”

“It was!”

“But-?”

“There is no but! He was really good!”

“You’re hiding something, Soldier, I can tell. He wasn’t the best you’ve ever had?”

“It’s just that… there haven’t been… others… to compare it to.”

Karlach stared at you. “WHAT?!” Her flames erupted to the point where you had to take a few steps back. 

“Shh! Quiet!” You listened for your other companions but heard nothing. 

“Don’t tell me Astarion was your first?!”

“And so what if he was!”

“The smug bastard,” Karlach muttered. Her face grew serious. “If he so much as looks at you wrong, tell me, and I’ll kill him.”

You laughed. “Shadowheart’s first in line to kill him, but don’t worry, I’ll have you waiting in the wings.”

“I’m serious. I’ll kill the pointy freak before he can hurt you, mark my words.”

You laughed again, moving closer to her now that her flames were calming. “Astarion and I are both adults. I’ll be fine.” Your voice went soft, “And I think he truly cares for me.”

Karlach huffed in disbelief. “Gross little vampire probably smelled your virgin blood and couldn’t keep away.” 

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. He likes me.”

“We all like you,” Karlach sighed. “You’re a lot of fun.”

“Thank you.”

“But none of us would want to see you get hurt by the leech.”

“You know, I think he’s more sensitive than you all realize.”

“Astarion.” It was more of a statement of disbelief than a question. She raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Yes.”

“Mr. ‘Tell Me How You’d Like to Die?’ Mr. ‘Describe How I Look in the Mirror and Tell Me I’m Beautiful?’ Mr. ‘I Have A Troubling Relationship with Power Over Others?’” She looked at you pointedly. “Mr.-”

“Alright,” you cut her off. 

“No wait, I've got another.” Karlach held up her finger like she was about to say something. “Nope. Lost it. Damn, it felt like a good one, too.”

“We all have our quirks,” you said, steering the conversion back on track. “Astarion, I think, has a few more than one might deem acceptable, but I trust him. He’s been true to his word about everything so far.” Your voice got small, “And I really like him.”

Karlach blew out a breath of resignation. “I know you do, Soldier.” Her hesitance turned into thoughtfulness. “And he did look pretty smitten when I found you both this morning.”

Your face went red at the memory. “Gods, that was so embarrassing. I still can’t believe we fell asleep out there.” Your brain took a second to process what she’d said. You turned to look at her, a small smile forming. “‘Smitten?’ Do you really think so?”

Karlach rolled her eyes affectionately. “Yes, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Your small smile grew into a smirk of satisfaction. You grew giddy. “You should have heard him, Karlach! He was so sweet, and gentle, and he kept checking in with me, and didn’t make me feel awkward or bad, and his body, oh my GODS, his body! When I say he’s unfairly beautiful, it truly is unfair because, how in the Nine Hells do you get abs like that and-”

Karlach was watching you with a fond smile on her face. She grinned and lifted a hand to stop you. “Okay, okay, I believe you. He took care of you.”

You sighed happily. “He did.”

“I’m glad.” After a moment, she sighed dramatically. “Okay, so maybe he didn’t just fuck you in some sort of weird vampire power play because you’re a virgin.”

“Karlach!” You furrowed your brows. “Seriously?”

“Oh, sorry,” she amended, “you were a virgin.”

You scrunched your nose at her. “You’re so lucky you’re a walking inferno, otherwise I’d punch you so hard right now.”

“You don’t have the guts,” she teased. “You’re too soft, Soldier.”

“I am,” you sighed in agreement. 

The two of you stood in a pleasant silence while Karlach paced back and forth to dry the blankets evenly. 

“I’d hug you if I could, you know,” she said quietly. “I am happy for you. And if anyone is getting laid around here, I’m glad it’s you.”

“Thanks?” you laughed. 

“But if he gives you any trouble, you come find Mama K, yeah?”

You saluted her playfully and she mirrored you.

“Your guests dost approach from the east.”

“WITHERS,” you stomped your foot, pretending to be upset, but smiling over at him. “We need to put a bell on you to remind us that you’re still alive.”

“I am not still of this realm of existence,” Withers corrected.

“You know what she means, skelly boy,” Karlach grinned over at him and then at you. “Come on soldier, let’s go greet our adoring fans.”

Karlach led the way to the center of camp where sure enough, Halsin and the tieflings of the Emerald Grove were emerging through the brush. Halsin caught your eye and waved affably. You waved back, happy to see him looking so well after the rescue from the goblin camp. 

Behind him, he tugged a cart meant for an ox, filled to the brim with food and booze and the eight troublesome kids who’d been kind enough to show you their hideout hidden beneath the Grove. Mol hopped out first, followed by Arabella and Mattis and the others who looked around briefly before zeroing in on the abandoned little temple past the waterfall in the corner of camp. They made their way over to it and disappeared inside.

Noted. You’d have to check on them later.

Suddenly a flash of blue and pink was launching itself at you and you stumbled backwards as it wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Alfira!” you wheezed, returning her hug.

She pulled away, grinning. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!” She was positively giddy and her mood was infectious. “I need to get some wine in me first, but we must play something together!”

Your smile faltered a little. “I’d love to, but my lute’s a little worse for wear.” You led her over to your tent and gathered a few pieces of the shattered instrument from your bag.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding.” Alfira took the pieces and examined them closely. 

Lakrissa found her way over to you. “Is this one causing trouble?” she asked, playfully slinging an arm around Alfira’s shoulders. “She was buzzing all afternoon about this shindig.”

“Hi Lakrissa,” you greeted happily. “No, I was actually just showing her the state of my lute.” You pulled a loose string out of your bag to emphasize your point. 

“I’ve seen this before,” Alfira took the string from you and inspected it along with the few shards of wood you’d already handed her. “The music overtook you during a particularly powerful song and your trusty instrument suffered the consequences. Did you bash it into a rock in a fit of musical liberation? Been there.”

You gritted your teeth sheepishly. “I wish it was in a fit of musical liberation. No, I kind of got backed into a corner protecting Astarion from a bugbear attack.”

“The mouthy one?” Lakrissa asked.

“You’ve met a mouthy bugbear?”

“No, Alfie, I mean their mouthy friend. The one with the hair?” She lifted her hand up to her own head to try and emphasize the height of his hair. 

“Oh yeah! Hard to keep track of you all,” Alfira shrugged.

You laughed, “Think about how we feel! There’s a billion of you!” You gestured around to the tieflings that were now acclimating to your spruced up camp.

Shadowheart had done a great job of tidying the clearing of fallen branches and mischievous weeds and had gone around making sure that everybody’s tents were in order. With the help of Lae’zel and Karlach, the three had managed to move a large log into the center of camp that was acting as a table that currently housed the booze your party had gathered, along with the food Gale had been preparing all afternoon. 

Gale, as soon as he’d declared the meal to be sufficient, had gone around hanging colorful banners throughout the camp with a few magic words and the snap of his fingers. You’d offered to help him in his effort but he politely declined, citing Shadowheart’s wrath. 

Now Halsin, Zevlor, and a few of the other adult tieflings were unloading the cattle cart and adding their hoard of food and drink to the table. Shadowheart and Gale were already filling goblets with wine and Lae’zel was chatting with (or maybe threatening) a tiefling that you recognized as one of the guards at the gate to the Grove. Karlach waved over at you from where she was talking with Dammon and you returned it happily.

You turned back to Alfira and Lakrissa. “Sorry Alfira, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to play with you tonight.”

“Nonsense!” She took you by the hand and led you and Lakrissa to the cattle cart. She pulled out two lutes and held one out to you. “One’s my teacher’s. I’ll play hers and you can borrow mine for tonight.”

You took the instrument she offered carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It was lovingly worn and smooth to the touch. You gave an experimental pluck at one of the strings. Perfectly in tune. You strummed a chord and minor illusioned Gale’s robes to go from deep purple to a loud, obnoxious orange. 

Gale paused in his pouring of wine as Shadowheart snorted. He looked down at his robes then looked over at you smirking at him. “Hey…” He scolded with no ice behind his words. He addressed Alfira and Lakrissa who were holding back giggles, “You realize you’ve just given her a literal instrument to channel the weave more potently, and now she can make tonight extremely irritating for us all?”

“You missed my illusions,” you teased, strumming again and returning his robes to their royal purple hue.

“On the contrary, we were only gifted about twelve blissful hours without you tormenting us with your tomfoolery.” 

You pouted at him teasingly. “How sad.” You poised your hands, ready to strum another chord. “I could make things so much worse,” you threatened, your voice lowered to a stupid octave.

“Behave,” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows at you, but you could see the amusement that played at her features.

“Fine,” you groaned and turned back to Alfira. “Thank you for this, I promise not to attack another bugbear with it for the sake of the mouthy one.”

A voice sounded from behind you. “The mouthy one?”

Astarion came to stand beside you, his hands clasped behind his back and skin speckled with blood spatter. For some reason, he absolutely stank. 

“Oh gods,” you said, scrunching your nose and turning away. “Did you and Wyll wander into a stinking cloud or something?”

“Hello, dearest,” he purred, pulling you to him and puckering his lips for a playful kiss, but you pushed his face away, avoiding his mouth at all costs.

“Get away from me, freak,” you laughed as he was able to plant a kiss on your cheek with a loud “MWAH.” He looked very pleased with himself. 

Alfira and Lakrissa, meanwhile, watched this display politely with their noses plugged.

Lakrissa gestured between the two of you. “When did this happen?” Her voice was nasally. 

“He’s always been a jackass,” you said.

“She means, love, when did you finally pluck up the courage to confess your undying love for me?” The flamboyant lilt in Astarion’s voice made you smile. 

“This just happened, actually,” you said, pointing from you to Astarion. “The stink is extra new.” 

“Do you like it, darling? A gift from one of the goblins at that Blighted Village. They weren’t pleased we came for their wine, stink bombs were thrown, blood was spilled, a tale as old as time.”

“Did you get to murder a bunch of goblins?” Despite the topic, you spoke to him as if he were a child. 

“I did,” he said, his voice gravelly, his face twisted in a wicked smirk. 

“Good for you. Now get the hells away from us.” You pointed in the direction of his tent. “I don’t know why you haven’t already scrubbed your skin raw to get rid of that smell. You hate things of a vile nature.” You adjusted your accent to sound like him as you said the last bit. “Though you do love gore.”

“I had to share this delightful experience with you first, my sweet. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” You gave him a teasingly sour expression and pushed him off in the direction of his tent. “Get fresh clothes and go jump in the lake or something! Then burn that armor!”

Astarion grabbed your arm and pulled you closer again, much to your dismay and protest. He brought his mouth to your ear. “Care to join me?”

You met his gaze, which flickered down to your lips for a moment, only for a roguish grin to spread across his face. You grew flustered and looked away.

“Maybe later.”

He chuckled, “Can’t wait.” Then he spun on his heel and headed off to his tent.

“Sorry about that,” you said, turning back to Alfira and Lakrissa, only to discover that they’d already walked away. You spotted them pouring themselves some wine a little ways off and sighed. 

“They left ages ago,” Astarion called over his shoulder.

“And you’re still here?” you called back, smiling. 

He laughed and you settled Alfira’s lute safely within your tent before you meandered your way over to Rolan and his siblings who were seated not far off. Rolan was bent over, his eyes closed in concentration. 

“Evening, folks,” you greeted and were met with joyful hellos from Lia and Cal.

“You’re just in time for Rolan’s extremely cool magic trick.” Lia teased.

“That is, if he’d hurry up and do it already,” Cal added.

“Patience,” Rolan said. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” He cracked his knuckles enthusiastically. 

Cal leaned forward and whispered loud enough for all of you to hear, “Having performance issues, Rolan?”

“Hush, you,” Rolan rolled his eyes.

“I, for one, love a good bout of showmanship,” you settled in next to Cal. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Rolan gestured to you, vindicated. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth as he looked at his siblings. He took a deep breath. “And…”

A burst of colorful light erupted from his hands as he lifted them into the air.

“...behold!” He exclaimed as the colors faded into tiny bursts of light, dissipating like fireworks.

You clapped excitedly. “Beautiful!”

Rolan looked over at you, clearly pleased. “Adoring applause? You’re too kind.” He bowed dramatically, making a show of his gratitude. 

Lia turned to Cal. “Remember when he could barely cast that?”

Cal nodded. “They grow up so fast.”

Something caught your attention from a ways off. Peeking out from behind the large cluster of rocks you found yourself facing was Silfy; the younger sister of Mattis, the tiefling child who tried to sell you a “lucky ring.” Astarion had halted your hand when you went to give him a coin, shaking his head and explaining that you were being scammed. 

Now, however, Silfy seemed alone. You remembered how upset she’d been when you caught her trying to rifle through your pockets. 

“Never have I met such troglodytes,” you heard Rolan laugh. “Now, pass the wine.”

“I have to take care of something,” you said as you stood up. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before the party’s over,” you smiled and waved, making your way over to Silfy’s hiding spot. 

You saw her see you and duck behind the rock. 

“Hello,” you coaxed gently, bending on your knee to level your height with hers. Silfy poked her head out but looked nervous. “It’s okay,” you encouraged. “You’re Silfy, right?”

She came out slowly and nodded. 

“That was a pretty cool show just now, huh?” You said, referencing Rolan’s trick which she’d no doubt seen. 

She nodded again and looked at her feet.

“What are you doing over here all alone?”

She sniffled. “Mattis was mean to me.”

You tilted your head. “What did he say?”

Silfy looked up at you. “He said Mol would never let me in her Guild in the city because I’m no good at pick-pocketing.” Her voice wobbled and you could tell she was trying not to cry.

You hid a smile. The things siblings fought about… And this particular fight was extra unusual. “Should we go talk to him?” you asked.

“Okay,” she said and watched as you stood. 

“Come on,” you said and took her hand.

Together, you and Silfy walked around the length of camp, passing people as you went. You tossed out polite greetings and a few kind words, but eventually made it to the waterfall and the slippery log that connected your camp to the little temple where you knew the other kids were hanging out. You held tight to Silfy as you crossed the log.

Mol stood by the entrance. “Silfy!” she exclaimed, clearly happy to see her. “There you are.”

Silfy let go of your hand and approached Mol. “Sorry I’m no good at pick-pocketing,” her voice barely audible above the roar of the waterfall a few feet away. 

“Is that what Mattis said that made you run away? Ah, don’t listen to him. You’ll get plenty of practice before we reach the Gate.” 

Silfy stood up a little straighter and looked pleased. 

Mol cocked her head towards the temple entrance. “Get in there,” she smiled.

Silfy smiled back and ran inside. Mol turned to face you. 

“Thanks for that,” she said. 

“Happy to help,” you said, attempting to subtly peer into the temple and see what the others were up to.

“You came through for us. That’s a change from most adults I know.” 

You shifted a little to try and get a better angle. It was too dark.

“What are you guys doing way over here?” you asked absently.

“Watching a bunch of old folks get dumber by the dram-full. And when they run dry… I’ve got a few bottles tucked away to keep things flowing.” She grinned at her own ingenuity. “For a price, of course,” she added. 

“Smart,” you nodded and crossed your arms. An idea had struck you earlier in the evening when you saw the kids slink over here. You readjusted your feet, trying to look like an authority figure but knowing Mol was probably immune to the act. “How would you guys like to get a little practice in, this evening?”

Mol looked at you curiously. “Practice what?”

“Scamming. Scheming. Stealing.”

“I’m listening.”

“One of the men I travel with, the one with the hair-”

“-long or floofy?”

“Floofy, for sure,” you answered almost immediately.

“Right. I know him.”

“Well he considers himself to be an expert at sleight of hand.”

Mol scoffed.

“I know,” you agreed. “I think you should all prove you’re better than him.”

“Easy,” Mol crossed her arms. “How?”

“Here’s my proposal: You each try to take something from his tent or off his person without getting caught. If you get caught, you’re out.”

“And if we don’t get caught?” 

“Depending on what it is you took, I might let you keep it.”

Mol scoffed again. “What’s the point of stealing off him if there’s a chance we won’t be able to keep our spoils?”

You pursed your lips in agreement. “Honestly, I really want to prank him and I think it would be hilarious if you guys took his stuff. He loves his stuff.”

“I do love a good con…” Mol pondered for a moment. “Alright, counteroffer.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Since you happened to catch me in a good mood; we do this for you and we have your sworn loyalty once we establish ourselves as the best Guild in the Gate.” She thought for another moment. “Also two hundred gold.”

You sucked in a breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Mol.” You held out your hand for her to shake. “But you’ve got a deal.”

“Hang on, you’re not gonna try to talk us out of it? Not gonna haggle?”

“I already tried to talk you out of it back at the Grove,” you shrugged. “But you’re all way too clever for your own good and I know there’s no changing your minds. Besides, it’ll be nice to have some friends waiting for us in the city.” You smiled at her, your hand still outstretched. 

She returned your smile and took your hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal.”

“A pleasure doing business with you,” you bowed dramatically and Mol snickered.

Mol made her way to the open door of the temple. She looked back at you. “I expect to see that two hundred gold before the night is through.”

“I’ll go get it right now,” you said pointing back towards camp.

Mol nodded, satisfied, then entered the temple. You heard her shout as you were leaving: “Alright, listen up! We’ve got a job.”

You smiled to yourself. You didn’t know what had come over you, and you knew that it was dangerous to be negotiating deals with con artists in the making, but you couldn’t help yourself. Especially after Astarion had crowded you in the aftermath of the stink bomb he’d been hit with. You loved watching him squirm and this was a great opportunity to do so. Mol and her gang of tiefling troublemakers were harmless as they were right now. They’d managed to take odds and ends from around the Grove, minus Arabella’s attempt to take the idol from the druids’ ritual. There was nothing currently at camp that couldn’t be replaced on the road. After all, you’d all crashed onto the same beach with nothing but the clothes on your backs. Well, except maybe the artifact Shadowheart concealed on her person, but you had just sicced the kids in the opposite direction towards the vampire. 

You made your way back into camp, stopping to chat with Zevlor and Halsin. 

“Gentlemen,” you acknowledged, trying not to seem guilty after conspiring with the leader of the child criminals a few yards away. “A pleasure to see you both.” You noticed Zevlor was enjoying a goblet of wine, but Halsin was not. “Not partaking in the revelry, Halsin?” 

He chuckled. “I assume you mean my lack of a goblet of wine or a cask of ale?”

You nodded.

“In truth, I rarely imbibe. The stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”

“Oh, ho, ho.” You and Zevlor made amused eye contact. “You sure you’re not a bard, archdruid?” You elbowed Halsin playfully and he chuckled again. 

“You’ve never heard me singing. Which makes you very fortunate.”

Zevlor laughed. “Yes, the singing we could probably do without. It feels so good to see these people smiling, let’s not ruin it. ”

“Then I shall not keep your ear any longer,” Halsin said, holding up his hands in playful surrender. He nodded to you. “There are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you. Go enjoy yourself. Seek out some wine before it runs dry; there are a lot of thirsty people around here.”

Zevlor raised his goblet to you. “Here, here.” You mimed raising your own cup to clink with his. You exchanged goodbyes and the men resumed whatever conversation they’d been having before you walked by. 

Your tent wasn’t far off and you knew you had plenty of gold in your bag to spare for your hired thieves. You exchanged a few more hellos before making it over to your tent. You lit a single candle to help you search your bag in the dim light of your tent and tried to not draw attention to yourself. You started digging through your bag for your coin pouch. 

Just as you’d counted out the last of the gold, you heard Astarion behind you. 

“Here’s my little treat,” he purred.

You stood up quickly, miscalculating where you were located in space and hitting your head against the top of your tent.

“Agh!” you yelped, turning around to face Astarion and ducking to properly exit. You looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t ask what you were up to.

He looked you up and down. “With their cheeks all flushed.” 

“Hi,” you said, not knowing how to respond. 

“Hello,” he smiled, drawing closer. “You’ll notice a distinct lack of blood stains and horrid stench to me.” He held out his arms and spun to show off his fresh, clean appearance. “It’s crazy what a little water and perfume can accomplish.”

“Well done,” you teased. “You’ve mastered basic hygiene.” 

He moved even closer. “Go on,” he said, leaning towards you, “give me a sniff.”

“And smell more rotten eggs? I’ll pass.”

“Come on,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You looked at him skeptically, then leaned in a little and inhaled. 

He smelled just as good as he had this morning, perhaps even better given that he’d just reapplied whatever it was he used to scent himself. You leaned in closer to his throat and inhaled again. It was a clean scent; one that was mature and distinctly male. It was delicious.

“What is that?” you asked, not pulling away.

Astarion chuckled lowly. “You like it?”

You finally pulled back and nodded. 

“Just a little scent profile I concocted to mask the unfortunate smell of death that comes from being, well, dead.”

“Do tell,” you probed, just as you noticed Mattis and Silfy sneaking around, a little ways off, clearly on their way to you and Astarion. You did your best to hide your stare, but Astarion noticed when your eyes shifted back a little too quickly and he looked behind himself. Mattis and Silfy quickly ducked behind a nearby tent. He turned back to face you.

“Thought I saw something. It was nothing.” It was a bad excuse, was what it was.

Astarion narrowed his eyes but continued, excited to talk about his scent mixture. “Mind you, my undead smell is very faint, but it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hit of aged brandy can’t hide. It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse.”

“Sounds like you missed your calling as a perfumer,” you said, genuinely interested in what he was saying but noticing Mattis and Silfy out of the corner of your eye. 

“I did, didn’t I?”

It was then that Mattis and Silfy approached you both.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mattis said, the picture of innocence. “Silfy and I just wanted to thank you again for finding her earlier.”

Silfy nodded.

“Oh!” you said, doing your best to sound shocked. You bent to get on eye level with her again. “I’m glad you’re okay, Silfy.”

Silfy sniffled and threw her arms around your neck. “Oh, thank you, Miss Hero!”

“Aw, this is too much,” you said, rubbing her back and making eye contact with Mattis. “I’m always happy to help.”

Mattis came around behind you and hugged you as well. 

“Thank you for reuniting me with my baby sister.”

You felt his hand reach for your own and grab the pouch containing the two hundred gold for Mol. He concealed it expertly. 

Both he and Silfy pulled away from you at the same time. “Well, guess we better head back to the others. It was so nice meeting you.” Mattis turned to leave but Silfy lingered.

“Come find us in Baldur’s Gate!”

You smiled at her. “We definitely will,” you squeezed her hands before she shuffled off to join Mattis walking back towards the temple. 

You stood up, dusting off the front of your pants. 

Astarion looked at you with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

You pointed with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction the kids were headed. “That was weird.”

“Why’d you give them a coin purse?”

You sputtered. “Why did I-? Whaaaaat? I didn’t-”

Astarion placed his hands on his hips. 

You sighed and looked at your feet. “Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this, but Silfy was upset because Mattis said she wasn’t good at pick-pocketing, so I went to the kids and said Silfy could practice on me.” You smiled lamely.

“So why did the brother pocket it?” He was onto you.

“I uh… think it was a round one type of thing. So next time it’ll just be Silfy.”

“Uh huh.” Astarion didn’t look convinced. “I’m going to assume you lost some sort of bet with Mol and her fleet of child criminals and that those two are the ones who came to collect.”

“Ah!” you exclaimed. “You caught me! I said I could beat Arabella in a staring contest and lost big time. Like, double or nothing lost.”

Astarion tsked and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You really must stop picking fights with children that you cannot win.”

“I can win,” you got defensive, even though you were lying through your teeth. 

Astarion tilted his head in disbelief. 

“I can!” You doubled down. 

“Mhm.” Astarion leaned forward and kissed you deeply, tilting you back a bit and bringing his hand to your cheek. 

He pulled away and you blinked back at him, dazed. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “You and your weird soft spot for those urchins.” He pretended to gag, as if admitting such things was making him sick.

“Aw, shucks.” 

He groaned. “I’m going to have to insist that you remove ‘aw shucks’ from your vocabulary immediately.” 

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Your eyes went to his mouth.

He flashed his fangs. “Don’t tempt me, darling.” He bent forward to kiss your neck and you tilted your head to give him better access.

“Astarion,” you half protested, “people can see us.”

“Let them,” he hummed against your throat. He moved his mouth so it was beside your ear. “Come to my bed tonight.”

A pleasant chill ran through your body. “I’ve seen your bed,” you sighed, thinking of the wooden pallet in his tent that was often covered with jars of half-drunk animal blood. “Come to mine instead.” 

Astarion growled from the back of his throat and kissed your neck again. 

“Yo, Astarion!” Karlach’s voice called from the food table. 

He pulled back slowly and turned to her, his arms still resting around your waist. “I’m a smidge busy here, Karlach.”

Karlach held up her hands innocently. She made eye contact with you and winked. “I just wanted to know if you’d seen all the wine the tieflings brought.”

“Of course I’ve seen the wine, I procured half of- wait, the tieflings brought wine?” He immediately pulled away from you and marched over to the table, examining the copious bottles of liquor. “So I got a stink bomb thrown at me and it was for nothing?!”

Karlach sucked in a breath. “Seems like it. Sorry, mate.”

Astarion turned back to look at you, clearly distraught by this discovery. You withheld a laugh.

He turned back and picked up a bottle and goblet. “Well, we’ll see who’s the better sommelier: me or the half-fiends.”

Karlach turned quickly and whipped him with her tail.

“Hey!” He stumbled a little, but caught himself. 

“Whoops! Sorry, you can never trust us half-fiends.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh,” Astarion backtracked. “Apologies, Karlach. I didn’t mean that.”

“Mmm,” Karlach crossed her arms. Then she smiled. “Wanna get drunk?”

“Gods, yes,” he sighed and uncorked a bottle, grabbing two goblets. He turned back towards you, still standing at your tent. “Care to partake?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m going to continue with my rounds,” you said, pointing vaguely towards the party at large.

Astarion shrugged and turned back to Karlach.

“Your loss, Soldier!”

“Save me a glass of the best stuff,” you called before walking in the direction of Gale’s tent. 

“No promises,” Astarion sang as you rounded the corner and found Gale at his tent, a goblet of wine in his hand and a half eaten plate of food set off to the side. 

“And how’s my favorite wizard enjoying the evening’s festivities?” you asked upon arrival.

“Ah,” he smiled, “come to turn my robes yellow this time?”

You held up your hands. “No lute. Sorry about earlier.”

“All in good fun,” he reassured. “I did miss your tomfoolery.”

“I knew you did,” you elbowed him playfully and he laughed.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” He looked up at the stars. 

Your gaze followed his. “That it is.”

“Nothing like a brush with destruction to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.”

“Yes, destruction by cleric would have been a tough way to go.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled and looked back up at the stars. “This is a view I once might have shared with my companion. Though definitely unaccompanied by such revelry.” He gestured over to Danis and Bex, drunkenly giggling with each other not far off. 

He turned back to you. “She preferred it when we were alone, curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us, ink glinting by the firelight…”

You smiled at the wistful look on his face. “I hope you’re referring to your cat and not Mystra.”

“By Ahghairon’s lost nose- no!” His voice cracked a little as he exclaimed. “Tara is not any cat. She’s a tressym. And given your confusion, I’m guessing you’ve never met one.”

“Guilty,” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“They’re brilliant creatures; fine company for any self-respecting wizard. She’d be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I’ve given her little to be proud of recently.” 

“Not true! Gale, you have so much to be proud of.” 

“You’re very kind,” he sighed. “She’s the one who discovered that the orb’s fury could be quelled with magically-infused items, you know.”

“You’re kidding! How’d she figure that out?”

“A lot of trial and error,” Gale laughed, holding a hand to his chest where the orb laid quiet for now. “I can still feel the phantom torment of her claws prodding me. Regardless, after so long being cared for by someone else, it feels good to repay the favor. Not directly to Tara, but these poor tieflings. I’m sure she would approve.”

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I know she would.”

He smiled at you, then looked away. “So… you and Astarion.”

“Me and Astarion,” you bobbed back and forth on your feet.

“He has a certain charm about him, Astarion,” he nodded. “Then again, so does a tiger when it purrs.” He took a swig of his wine.

“Gale, if I did something that led you to think-”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted before you could finish the thought. “You did nothing of the sort. I think I’m just too deep in my cups.” He looked down into his goblet and sighed before looking back at you. “I’m glad you found each other. And better I have this revelation now than farther into our journey.”

“You’ll always be my favorite wizard,” you said, punching his bicep in playful camaraderie. “I hope this doesn’t change things between us. I value our friendship too much.”

He chuckled softly, his hand ghosting over where yours had just made contact. “This changes nothing.” A reassuring smile graced his features. 

Movement to your left on the beach caught your attention.

“Is that Wyll?” you asked.

Gale followed your eyes over to his right. “Ah, yes I believe he’s been pensively staring at the water for a majority of the evening.”

“And you didn’t check on him?”

“I did, but he insisted on being alone. Though I’m sure he would much rather welcome your company than that of a babbling wizard.” He nudged you with his elbow. “But after that, go indulge in the frivolities! They’re good for the heart. And mine will be lighter, to see you enjoying yourself.”

You surged forward and hugged him. He held you tightly while still clutching his goblet. When you pulled away you pointed at him. “You still need to teach me lanceboard.”

“And you need to stop enchanting the pieces to attack each other.”

“I will when it stops making you laugh.” You grinned at him, then waved and headed towards Wyll.

Just as Gale had said, Wyll was standing alone by the water’s edge, past the drying blankets that swayed subtly in the evening air. 

“Thought I smelled you over here,” you said, sliding down some rocks and making him noticeably flinch.

“Oh gods, do I still stink?” He raised his arm to his nose and inhaled deeply. “I fear I’ll never be fully rid of it.”

“I was teasing,” you came to stand beside him and looked at the lake. “Though, Astarion seems to have a promising career ahead of himself as a perfumer if you need his help.”

Wyll chuckled. “Good to know that your new beau smells as good as he looks.”

“Indeed he does,” you smiled at him and he smiled back. 

After a moment, Wyll sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”

“It’s no party without the Blade of Frontiers.”

“Really? I’m honored.” He turned back to face the water. “In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood. And I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.”

“What? Why?” It concerned you deeply that one of your beloved companions was feeling down and you hadn’t even noticed. “What brought this on?”

“I’m a devil,” Wyll scowled. “I love the people from the Grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays. You don’t want a devil at your party.”

You were surprised he felt that way. Mizora had so kindly gifted him his devilish features not long after Karlach officially joined your team well over a tenday ago, and the people of the Grove had long since come to terms with the Blade’s new horns. He was still Wyll; kind, fiercely protective, and above all, a good man. Those who couldn’t see that were fools.

“Claws will pop the balloons, you see,” Wyll teased, trying to lift the mood. “And the sweetcakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue.” 

You smiled sadly. “You don’t unsettle me. Or any of us. You know that.”

Wyll laughed humorlessly. “If only half the world had half the heart you do.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “But off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”

“I suspect you’re the best dancer among us, Mr. Upper City. I’d love to dance with you sometime.”

Wyll laughed. “In truth, I always enjoyed a bit of pomp.”

“You seem like the type,” you laughed.

“I once beat the Baldurian record for the most sarabandes dances in a single evening. Much to the exhaustion of the good ladies and gentlemen of the Gate.” 

“I can see it now,” you said wistfully.

“I had years of lessons, but honestly, it’s all about your partner.” 

You took a step back and bowed dramatically. “Well I hope one of these evenings I might be a proper partner to stumble along with.”

Wyll smirked and bowed back to you. “One of these evenings,” he agreed. He inhaled deeply and turned back to the lake. “I just need some time alone beneath the stars, and I’ll be back to my old self. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, walking forward and hugging him. He returned it and you squeezed him tightly. 

“Okay,” he jokingly wheezed, “you have my word.”

“Good,” you pulled away. “You know where to find me,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the party. 

“I do,” Wyll nodded, looking at you fondly. 

You turned and called down the beach, “Keep an eye on him, Withers!”

Withers simply stared at you from his spot by the boats. 

You placed your hands on your hips. “One of these days I will crack him.”

Wyll laughed and waved you off. “Good luck with that.”

As you reemerged into the party, you saw Zaki run past you holding a tin of one of Astarion’s hair products. You snorted and looked around to make sure Astarion hadn’t seen. 

No, he and Karlach were still busy downing goblets of wine and comparing them to each other. 

“Bitter!” Astarion exclaimed, sticking out his tongue and pulling the goblet away from his mouth as if it had bitten him.

“Ah, you’ve got no taste, Astarion!” Karlach clapped him on the back. “This one’s better than the crap you served three cups ago.”

Astarion scoffed. “That was a classic vintage! Gods, it’s like you know nothing of fine wines.”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “Um, hello? Ten years in Avernus, mate. Didn’t get much drinking in while enslaved. Anything’s better than fire wine.”

“Tragic,” was all he said in response.

Suddenly Alfira was running over to you. “There you are!” The sweet scent of alcohol wafted off of her and she held a goblet in one hand and her teacher’s lute in the other. “Now, this might be the wine talking, but I’m feeling inspired. Thinking of writing my next song… about you.” 

“Me?” you asked, placing your hands on your chest and batting your eyes. “I’m flattered.”

Alfira nodded. “But I need an angle. Any ideas?”

You thought for a moment, then made your voice pompous. “Let it be only as truthful as true poetry would permit.”

Alfira grinned and matched your tone, “But of course.” Then she became serious, “You achieved something beyond mere fact by helping all of us. That deserves to be remembered.” She shut her eyes for a moment, regaining her thoughts. “Buuuut, like I said, I need more wine before I truly start waxing poetic. Shall we play a song together now?”

“Great idea,” you grinned and started making your way to your tent to retrieve her lute. 

As you passed by Astarion and Karlach, you watched Arabella reach into Astarion’s back pocket and come away with what looked like a few coins. She made eye contact with you and smirked before running off.

Karlach clearly saw this occur and held in a laugh. She looked past Astarion at you and you held a finger up to your mouth, signaling for her not to say anything. She snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Astarion asked.

“Nothing, you just look so stupid when you sniff wine like that.”

“I do not!” he protested. A beat. “Do I?”

You shook your head to yourself as you made it to your tent and grabbed the lute, walking with Alfira to the center of camp by the fire. 

“What shall we play?” she asked. 

“How about a classic?” you suggested, strumming the opening chords to “Bard Dance.”

Alfira grinned and nodded, immediately picking up the harmonies to the song while you took the melody. A sudden whistling caught your ear and you turned to see Volo performing the song with just as much gusto as the two of you. Had he been here the whole time?

Around you, the tieflings and your companions gathered around to hear you both play. They were stiff at first, merely listening and swaying to the familiar tune they’d no doubt heard many times. It wasn’t long before Danis bowed to Bex, who curtsied back, and the two began dancing merrily around the clearing. 

With the ice broken, others coupled off to dance together, and others formed groups of three or four. 

Shadowheart clapped along to the beat as Gale approached her and twirled her around happily. Karlach joined the fray, swinging her hips and waving her arms, but was careful not to hit anyone by mistake. Even Halsin joined in on the fun, awkwardly marching back and forth to the beat and encouraging shy tieflings to join him. Lae’zel and Astarion remained on the edge of the crowd, but you could see Lae’zel tapping her foot to the beat despite her best efforts to remain unaffected by the merriment. 

As your fingers danced over the strings, you sent off a few minor illusions of fireworks to add some dazzle to the performance. Alfira added her own dancing lights to swirl around the audience.

You made eye contact with Astarion who was smirking at you. He made to raise his goblet to you in a toast, but his hand was empty. He looked around himself to see if he’d misplaced it, but movement farther back in camp let you know that it was Meli who had absconded with the cup. You smiled widely at Astarion and shrugged. He shrugged back, smiling and reaching for a new cup. 

As the jovial song came to an end, the audience clapped and a few members approached you and Alfira, thanking you for the music and placing a few coins in your palms. 

“Marvelous!”

“Such fun!”

“Alfira, you simply must play for us on our journey to the Gate!”

“No praise for the wizard, Volo?” Volo complained to an unhearing crowd. He humphed and returned to scribbling in a notebook closeby.

You and Alfira thanked everyone before you handed Alfira her lute back.

“Thank you for this,” you said. “I’d love to play again with you some time.”

Alfira took the instrument from you and nodded. “Oh, yes please!” She looked at her lute for a moment, then held it back out to you. “You should keep this one.” 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “You’ve clearly had it for a long time. It must hold sentimental value to you. I don’t want you to part with it, I’ll have a new lute in no time.”

“Please,” Alfira insisted, still holding it out. “You play so beautifully.”

“Don’t go inflating her ego now,” Astarion said as he approached carrying two goblets of wine. “She’s annoying enough as it is.” 

Behind him you saw Mirkon run by with a set of thieves' tools.

Astarion handed you one of the goblets of wine and smiled at you. “Hello, my sweet.”

“Hi,” you said shyly, still not used to his full attention but enjoying it nonetheless.

“Oh, stop teasing her,” Alfira said, rolling her eyes. “Tell her how well she did and make her take my lute.” She held it out again.

“While yes, she did play wonderfully-”

You looked at Astarion, a little shocked. You weren’t sure he’d ever complimented your music before.

“-she won’t be needing the lute.”

“See,” you said to Alfira before pausing for a moment and turning back to Astarion. “I won’t?”

He shook his head at you. “It’s taken care of already,” he said to Alfira. 

She understood what he was saying and nodded. “How very kind of you,” she said, smiling. She reached forward and squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure to see you again before we leave.” 

You nodded and smiled as she left to rejoin Lakrissa at the wine table.

You turned to Astarion who looked smug. He turned to face you and grinned.

“What was that?” you asked.

“What was what, darling?”

“With Alfira. ‘It’s taken care of already.’ Did you steal me a lute or something?”

Astarion brought his goblet to his lips, ignoring you.

You gasped, your mouth open in faux horror. “You did not.”

“And if I did?”

“Where?”

He groaned. “Enough questions. Come enjoy a drink with me.”

He took your hand and led you over to his tent. When you arrived, he dropped your hand and held up his cup for you to clink with his. He took a sip. 

“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You snorted. “Bold of you to assume that’s what you are.”

He rolled his eyes and continued. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…”

He held you in suspense as he took another drink of his wine. 

When he pulled the cup away, he scowled. “I hate it. This is awful.” 

“Aw,” you said, walking forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling back a little. “Is this okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded.

You continued. “It’s not that bad. Think of all the goblins you killed.”

“True,” he agreed. “That was fun. Still, I would have liked more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who curated the wine?”

“Yes, but it’s not like I had much variety to choose from. Plus the tieflings didn’t bring anything to write home about.” He cocked his hip to the side, then nodded to you. “Go ahead, give it a taste.”

You stepped back and swirled the wine in the goblet that Astarion had provided for you. You took a tentative sip of the heavy, rich red. It was dry and sharp. To be honest, it tasted like most other reds you’d had before.

Astarion leaned forward a bit to gauge your reaction. “See what I mean? Awful.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Why didn’t you pick a better one, then?”

“Darling, this is the best they had.” 

“How sad,” you sighed, clearly not as upset as he hoped you’d be.

He held up a hand and turned away from you. “None of you have any taste.” 

“I’m sorry, my love,” you brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll have to share once you find something you actually like. That way I’ll know what to look for.”

He sighed heavily. “What would be the point? You probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Rude,” you scoffed, “but fair.” You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?”

Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.”

You snorted. “How’d that go?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.”

You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?”

Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

You looked over to Karlach who was still dancing despite the fact that you and Alfira had finished your performance several minutes ago. She was trying to get Dammon and Zevlor to join her but both looked like they were searching for escape routes. 

You laughed. “Shame there’s no music to accompany her,” you said, half joking.

“An excellent point, my dear.” He turned to bend down, wobbling, but catching himself. He started rifling through his possessions. “Odd,” he mumbled, “I swore it was here.”

“What are you looking for?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He was clearly lost in thought. “Oh nothing, darling. But, um, do me a favor and go somewhere else for a minute.” He waved you away without looking at you.

You smirked. “Okay,” you said, pretty sure he was looking for the lute he’d snatched for you. As you were about to step away, you paused, remembering the gang of young thieves actively stealing from Astarion. “I-” you shook your head. “Nevermind, keep looking.”

“I will, now go away.” He got up to look behind his tent. 

You held in a laugh and made your way over to Shadowheart, who you just witnessed pour herself a fresh glass of wine. 

“Hello,” you said, joining her at the refreshments table and popping a grape into your mouth. The crisp snap of the grape reminded you how hungry you were and you began to fill a plate with food. 

“Hungry?” Shadowheart laughed.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I missed bread and cheese this afternoon.”

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “And whose fault was that?”

You slowed your chewing and slouched. “Mine.”

“Uh huh,” she took a swig of wine and smiled at you. “I think it’s safe to say you learned your lesson.”

You nodded as you took a large bite off a bread roll. 

Shadowheart took a step back to rest against the table. She surveyed the party at large. 

“Everyone seems to be in high spirits.”

You swallowed heavily and willed yourself not to choke, clearing your throat instead. “You put together a great party, Shadowheart.”

“I know,” she smiled. She shimmied closer to you and nodded over to Astarion’s tent where the man was still searching around, looking deeply confused. “I saw you and Astarion have been reunited.”

You lifted your gaze to Astarion’s tent, your expression melting into one of pure adoration. He was such an idiot. Even though you knew you were the cause of his ignorance. You shook your head, snapping out of it.

“Sorry again.”

Shadowheart blew out a puff of air. “Far be it from me to keep you two apart any longer. Besides,” she nudged you playfully, “blood must still be running hot. After everything.”

This time you did choke. Shadowheart’s eyes widened and she smacked you on the back.

“I’m fine!” you insisted. You cleared your throat and took a sip of wine. 

Shadowheart laughed. “It’s fun getting you flustered.”

“I’m sure Astarion would say the same,” you agreed.

She sighed happily next to you and returned to looking into the party.

“You know who I never thought I’d find myself caring for?”

You stuffed your mouth with a hunk of cheese on a cracker to the point where you could barely get out the word, “Me?”

Shadowheart looked at you and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, desperate people… like these refugees. Never gave them much of a thought. Certainly not this bunch from the Grove. Yet we came through for them. We saved their lives. Odd.”

You nudged her with your shoulder. “I hate to say it Shadowheart, but you’re a good person. Though given your sentimentality, it sounds like the wine is talking,” you teased.

“It’s not talking enough for my liking.” She turned and grabbed the bottle you’d seen her pouring from moments ago. “Share a bottle with me?” 

You looked at her skeptically. “Just a bottle? You’re not trying to poison me for disobeying you earlier, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just a bottle of poison free wine. You’ve suffered enough. Besides, I think you have other plans afterwards. Wouldn’t want to keep you.” She kicked her foot out towards Astarion’s tent which was now vacant, minus Doni slinking away with a hairbrush.

Before you could give her an answer, she was filling your goblet to the brim, despite the fact that you hadn’t finished the wine that was already there. She poured the rest into her own goblet, shaking the bottle to get out the last few drops.

“There,” she said. “Liquid courage.”

She tapped the brim of her goblet against yours and took a long sip. You joined her. Mixing the two wines hadn’t been a bad idea after all. There was a pleasant fruity aftertaste that you enjoyed. You went back in for another sip. 

She watched you as you drank. “Do try to get some rest tonight if you can. Tomorrow’s another day.”

“Yes, mom.”

She smacked your arm. “How dare you! I’m nobody’s mother.” She took another swig of her wine just as Lae’zel approached with her greatsword. 

“Are you aware that the child thieves are taking our belongings from camp?”

Shadowheart choked a little. “Excuse me?” She patted herself down and was relieved when her hand made contact with the artifact still on her person. She didn’t dare pull it out in front of everyone and instead looked at you.

“Oh, that,” you said smiling. “I told them they could.”

“And why would you tell them that?” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” you sat up straighter. “I told them they could only take from Astarion.”

Shadowheart snorted. “What?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be funny if the rogue got robbed by a bunch of kids.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “He is failing miserably at what he claims to be very good at.” She eased her stance and loosened her grip on her greatsword.

You laughed. “I think it’s partially Karlach’s fault. She suggested they both get drunk.”

“That’ll do it,” Shadowheart nodded, taking another sip of wine. 

“Hang on, Lae’zel, were you planning on attacking the kids?” You pointed at her sword.

Lae’zel eyed the weapon, then looked at you. “All children should know how to defend themselves from enemy attacks. I had already killed two of my cousins by the time I was their age.”

You nodded slowly. “Killing isn’t as much of a priority when you’re a kid here.”

“You make that blatantly obvious everyday with your oafish battle stance and shoddy swordsmanship.”

You scoffed and Shadowheart laughed. “I’m a lot better at fighting now, thanks,” you smiled at her, not actually offended. You knew she’d been raised on an entirely different plane, and who were you to judge their customs? At this point in your adventure, you knew not to take her harsh words personally. Even though she was usually right.

Lae’zel looked you up and down. “Perhaps so. I have seen the kith’raki tear a screaming neogi’s legs from its belly to fashion into blades.”

“Ew,” Shadowheart scowled. 

Lae’zel kept her eyes trained on you. “Yet, they could not match your nerve at the goblin camp. It was enough to drive me to madness.”

“Oh,” you said, a bit taken aback. “Thanks?”

“I smell their blood on you still. I smell your sweat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh gods, I thought I washed that all off-”

Shadowheart set a hand on your shoulder and shook her head. You turned your focus back on Lae’zel. 

“I meant to taste that sweat. Pity for us you’ve already promised your body to Astarion.” She crossed her arms, annoyed.

“Ah,” you nodded, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Lae’zel, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” 

“Chk,” Laezel rolled her eyes. “It is your loss. Come morning you will wonder. You will wonder how my lips might have tasted. How my fingers on your skin might have felt.”

You looked down at the ground, feeling guilty for not picking up on her intentions sooner. Shadowheart laid a comforting hand on your back.

“Enough, Lae’zel,” she said. “She was bound to make a choice sooner or later. Let’s respect her decision.”

“And what a foolish decision it was. Astarion can’t even handle a few children. I would skewer them the moment they touched one of my belongings.” She thrusted her greatsword forward as if to demonstrate. 

You swallowed. “Then let’s be glad they aren’t after your belongings.” 

Lae’zel looked down her nose at you. “Let us hope that continues.” 

“Hope what continues?” Astarion approached the three of you and grabbed another bottle of wine, not bothering to pour it into his goblet and instead opting to drink directly from the source.

You shook your head, feigning annoyance. “Are you following me?”

“Darling,” he purred, sidling up next to you, “didn’t I tell you last night that I wasn’t going to leave you alone anymore, especially after we-”

Lae’zel groaned loudly. “I’m going to keep a vigilant watch for any of those whelps stepping out of line.” She turned on her heel and headed back to her tent, but not before intimidating a few unfortunate tieflings milling about nearby. 

Astarion took another swig from his bottle and winced, not enjoying the taste. “What’s with her? Apart from her usual Lae’zel…ness?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, sipping your own wine and feeling warmth spread through your chest.

Shadowheart leaned over to look at the vampire. “Enjoying yourself, Astarion?”

Astarion did a double take, apparently having not noticed her when he first walked up. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you protectively.

“Ooohh no,” he said, “you’re not sending me out on another long errand to keep me away from her.” He sounded whiney, likely from the buzz he was still nursing with the wine.

You and Shadowheart laughed.

“It’s okay, dearest,” you teased, poking his nose. “We’ve made peace with Shadowheart.”

Astarion looked from you to Shadowheart skeptically. “No more errands?”

Shadowheart smirked. “Don’t dally again and we won’t have to find out, will we?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Astarion, who pulled away from you and continued to drink from his bottle. “I suppose that’s fair. But to answer your question, yes, surprisingly I’m having a delightful time.”

You scrunched your nose. “What happened to hating all the attention and the bad wine?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Must you always question the details, darling?”

You laughed. “Yes, evidently I must.”

Astarion waved his hand in the air, ignoring your answer and continuing to address Shadowheart. “It’s been centuries since I’ve been able to really let loose at a soiree such as this without being told what to do or hunting for something.” He wrapped you in his arms again. “Not when I already have my prey for the evening right here.”

Your eyes widened at Shadowheart and you avoided eye contact with her, flustered.

“Astarion,” you muttered as he kissed your shoulder from behind.

Surprisingly, when you looked back at her, Shadowheart had a small smile on her face.  

She addressed you when she spoke. “Seems like you’ve really captured this one under your spell.” She nodded her head towards Astarion who had his nose pressed against your neck. 

He pulled back and looked shocked. “Is that what this is? Have you cursed me? Vile witch!” He smiled at you like a dope. He snapped his fingers at Shadowheart. “Remove this curse, cleric!”

Shadowheart grabbed his hand and set it back at his side. “What you’re not going to do is snap at me as if I were a dog.” She looked at you. “Who knew liquor would make him even more insufferable?”

“We should have accounted for this,” you agreed. 

“I am right here,” Astarion pouted.

You reached for one of his hands wrapped around you and squeezed it. “We know, dummy.”

His slightly unfocused eyes went gooey. He looked at Shadowheart. “You know, Shadowheart, we were each others’ firsts.”

You went rigid under his touch and Shadowheart inhaled her wine by accident, coughing briefly.

“That can’t be true,” she said looking between the two of you.

“Astarion,” you elbowed him.

Astarion scowled. “Oh, perish the thought, she was the first thinking creature I ever drank from.”

Shadowheart nodded slowly. “Congratulations?” She looked at you. “You didn’t drink… his blood too, did you?”

You shook your head and Astarion laughed. 

“No dear, I took her virginity.”

You elbowed Astarion with a good amount of force. 

“I will kill you,” you muttered exasperatedly.

“You will not,” he wheezed.

“I will not,” you sighed, looking up at Shadowheart, whose eyes had gone wide. 

Her expression morphed from one of shock to one of anger. She stood and walked over to Astarion. Her hand glowed with the makings of a guiding bolt. You stood quickly and stepped in front of Astarion, shielding him.

“Shadowheart!” you exclaimed. “It’s alright!”

“He’s a vampiric freak,” she said loudly, drawing the attention of a few party goers. “He’s using you for your blood and your innocence!”

Astarion scoffed and stood, stepping to the side, rendering your body shield useless. 

“How dare you,” he said, stomping his foot. “While, yes, that does sound like me, and was my intention originally,” Shadowheart raised her glowing hand and you held up your arms to stop her, “I did not make passionate love to her for no reason!”

You brought your hands to your face and ran them down your features slowly. This was mortifying.

“Can we keep it down?” you asked quietly.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes and dropped the prepped guiding bolt. She crossed her arms and looked at Astarion expectantly. “And what was the reason?”

He groaned dramatically. “Gods, I only brought it up as a joke for a laugh, do we have to keep it up?”

“Astarion,” both you and Shadowheart warned.

“Fine,” he avoided looking at you. “I like her, alright? More than like her, she’s- well, I don’t know what she is.” He took your hand in both of his own. “But isn’t it nice not to know?”

You looked at each other for a moment, his face soft, but a little concerned. You smiled and brought the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss.

“So you didn’t bed her for the sake of gaining power from her virginity or something?”

That snapped Astarion out of his focus on you. “What? No, of course not! I’m a spawn anyway, so even if I wanted to I couldn’t.” He smiled at you. “But I didn’t want to!” He added quickly. 

“Nice save,” you teased, ruffling his hair, then thinking better of it and moving it back into place. “Let’s keep our sex lives to ourselves from now on, okay?”

“Gods below, if I’d known she’d react like that-” Astarion looked up at Shadowheart who was crossing her arms and looking at him as if daring him to finish the sentence. He cleared his throat. “Noted.”

Shadowheart shook her head and rolled her eyes before perching on the refreshments table once again.

“If he hurts you, I’m going to kill him and not revive him. And I’ll pay Withers for him to stay dead.”

You patted her shoulder. “I know. Thank you.”

Astarion leaned over to look at her. “To be clear, I don’t plan on hurting her.”

Shadowheart changed the subject. “What were you looking for over there?” She nodded her head towards Astarion’s tent. 

“Hmm?” he looked confused as to what she was referring to, then caught on and perched on the refreshment table again beside you. “Oh, just a little something for our beautiful bard here.” He started playing with the ends of your hair.

Shadowheart returned to her wine. “Couldn’t find it?”

“You know, it’s the strangest thing, I’ve been misplacing things all evening. Must be because of this delicious buzz I’ve got.” Astarion remembered the bottle he’d set down mere moments ago and returned to it.

Shadowheart lifted her eyebrows at you over her goblet. “Strange,” she said with an air of “We know exactly what’s happening and Astarion doesn't.”

You sighed, thinking he’d suffered enough at the hands of the kids. You took his free hand and hauled him up from the table. 

He eyed you curiously but made sure to take the wine bottle up with him. “What is it, darling?”

“Come on,” you started leading him towards the temple. 

“Oh ho,” he chuckled, stumbling a bit behind you, “wanted to get me alone, did you?” He sped up a little and gently bit the tip of your ear. 

You gasped at the sensation and he pulled back to smirk at you. You blinked and shook your head. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to ravish me in there,” you nodded ahead to the temple. 

Astarion caught you by the waist and lifted you a little, forcing you to stop moving. You yelped and he pulled you back so that he could whisper in your ear. “I can take you wherever I damn well please,” he growled. 

You shivered as he set you back down. “As sexy as you are, my love, you’ll see what I mean momentarily.”

You grabbed his hand again and led him across the log bridge and into the temple.

Only to find it empty.

Your stomach dropped. Uh oh.

Astarion sighed. “I don’t see what the problem is, dear.”

He took advantage of his grip on your hand and pulled you back to him, then spun you around so that your back was against the damp stone wall of the now truly abandoned temple. 

His knee came between your legs and he pinned your hands above your head. 

You were too shocked to say anything.

He grinned, and leaned into your ear again. “I could take you right here and right now,” he bent to kiss your throat and moved his thigh to rub deliciously against you. When you let out a small noise of satisfaction, he pulled back to look at you, his voice low, “If that’s what you want.” 

“Astarion,” you whined, closing your eyes and rolling your hips. 

“Yes, sweet girl?” he smirked at the pathetic look on your face.

“Kids, Astarion,” you exhaled shakily as he adjusted his thigh to give you a better angle. 

He paused. “Kids?” Then he chuckled. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, darling.”

You opened your eyes and gave him a confused look. 

He gave you an equally confused look. “I’m dead,” he said slowly, “I don’t think it’s possible?” He raked his eyes over your body and rested on your stomach. “Is it?”

You gently whacked the side of his head. “No, idiot, I’m talking about the tiefling kids.”

“Oh!” Astarion let out a relieved laugh. “What about them? You didn’t lose our entire camp over a game of hopscotch, did you?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed off the wall, looking around for any sign of the kids. It was dark and you couldn’t make out a thing. You groaned loudly up at the ceiling and ran your hands down your face. 

“I shouldn’t have trusted them…” you muttered.

“What did you do?” Astarion asked, sounding prematurely annoyed. 

You ignored him and opted to march out of the temple and up the log back into camp. 

A small laugh rang out from behind Gale’s vacant tent a ways off.

It sounded distinctly childish. 

You huffed some hair out of your face and marched up to Volo who was near Wyll’s tent, still writing in his journal. 

He lit up as you approached. “Aha! There you are! Come now, settle in. I do hope you have partaken in something bracing? This may well take up all night.”

You grabbed him by the arm. “No time.”

He protested as you dragged him towards the edge of camp. “I say! Unhand me! I’d hate to see your name slandered in an upcoming tale of your heroic escapades!” 

You ignored him and spun him to face you. “How loud can you whistle?”

Volo puffed his chest proudly. “I’m surprised you have to ask, given my accompaniment to your performance earlier this evening.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “As loud and as lively as necessary.”

“Great. I’m going to need one sharp, loud whistle on my say so.”

He leaned in conspiratorially. “Ah, drawing attention, are we? Giving a rousing speech? Toasting to your fine accomplishments?”

“Neither.” You cupped your hands up to your mouth. “MOL AND COMPANY.”

The party grew silent.

Volo tilted his head. “Oh. Interesting choice of audience. But, children are the future-”

You elbowed him. “Do it now.”

“Right.” As instructed, Volo lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew harshly, emitting a loud, high pitched whistle.

You saw heads turn to you, as well as the figures of the kids clamoring to look at you from behind Gale’s tent.

“TO ME,” you called firmly, making eye contact with Mol and motioning for her and the others to come to you. 

As the children filed towards you, Volo shrunk back. “Do you need-”

“You can go.” 

“Thank heavens. Good evening.” He tipped his hat to you, then scurried off back to his post by Wyll’s tent. 

Mol came to a stop in front of you, crossing her arms and scowling at you. “What do you want now?”

You looked down at all eight of the hired thieves. Most avoided eye contact but Mol and Arabella, who smiled at you. You crossed your arms.

“It’s time to go over your spoils.”

“What, in front of him?” Meli asked, pointing behind you at Astarion, who lingered behind you looking rather in awe of what was occuring. 

“It’s been long enough,” you confirmed. “You all did very well and I’m very pleased with your efforts.”

You watched as the kids grew smug and shared excited looks with each other. 

Mattis spoke up. “What do we get in return for doing so good?”

“So well,” Astarion corrected.

“Didn’t ask you, did I mate?” Mattis snarled. 

Astarion flashed his fangs in retaliation and Mattis shut his mouth.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Well let’s see what you gathered, huh? Then we can determine.”

Mol clicked her tongue. “I already told ya’s, we have her support when we get to the Gate.”

“Lame!” Zaki exclaimed. “We should get some kind of physical prize or something.”

Doni made a noise of agreement. 

Mirkon shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s nice that we have the support of the hero of the Grove to help us.”

Arabella smirked. “I kind of want to see what else she has to offer.”

You did your best to stay stoic in front of them all, but you were too endeared by their curiosity and felt a smile tugging at your lips.

“Alright cretins,” you teased loudly, “show me where you buried the loot.”

Silfy giggled. “We didn’t bury it, silly!”

“Silfy,” Mattis hissed.

She grew quiet. “Sorry.”

“Be nice,” you warned, resting your hands on your hips. You took a deep breath, thinking about how to proceed. “Alright, first one to show me where you hid the loot gets their prize first.”

“Prize?!” Zaki gasped and Meli was already running across camp.

The other seven raced off after him.

You sighed fondly, choosing to walk after them at a leisurely pace.

Astarion caught up and strolled beside you. “Am I to understand that you had the urchins steal my belongings this evening?”

You clasped your hands behind your back and looked straight ahead. “Perhaps.”

Astarion chuckled. “I’d kill you if I didn’t desperately want to kiss you right now. Seeing your command over those children was really something.”

You cleared your throat. “Later. We need to get your stuff back first.”

He nodded, his brows furrowing. “You seem to like kids. Not just those brats.”

“I do,” you smiled. “They can be the best audience. Plus they’re hilarious in their own ways without even trying most of the time.”

Astarion nodded. “A collective of child criminals is rather funny from an objective point of view.”

“They’re pretty good, too,” you bumped his hip. “Got past our master rogue all evening.”

Astarion tsked. “I blame the wine, darling.”

“I think you’re getting sloppy.”

“Would you STOP FLIRTING and GET OVER HERE?” Mattis yelled from the boats near Withers.

Arabella leaned against the boat closest to the living corpse. “Bone Man here said we could hide our stuff in the boats.”

“Withers!” you exclaimed with no actual anger in the cry. 

“I did no such thing,” he denied, as stoic as ever. 

“Uh huh,” you said, then leaned in conspiratorially to the kids. “He hides our stuff all the time.”

The kids snickered, looking from you to Withers.

“I do not,” he said, his tone holding the same inflection as always. “I hast no need of thine earthly possessions.”

You clicked your tongue. “And yet you require compensation from us whenever we need something from you. Where’s the money going, Withers?”

Silfy giggled.

Withers didn’t budge.

You turned back to the kids. “He absolutely hides our stuff.” 

They snickered again. 

You moved closer to the boat to peer inside. Doni stepped in front of you, blocking your view.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, taking a step back, “who wants to show me what they took first.”

“So you really are going to reward them for this behavior?” Astarion crossed his arms and you ignored him. 

“I got here first,” Meli said, stepping forward with his hands behind his back, “just so we’re clear.”

“You did not,” Zaki protested, “Doni got here before any of us.”

“Doni doesn’t count! He’s the best sneak of all of us!”

“He does count and that’s why he won!”

“Quiet, you two,” Mol said with a bit of an edge to her tone. “Doni did win fair and square.”

“Told you!” Zaki stuck out his tongue.

Meli rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He stepped forward and addressed you. “May I present…” he pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing Astarion’s wine goblet from earlier.

“You little whelp,” Astarion hissed but you held up a hand to silence him.

Meli smirked at the vampire. “You’ll notice,” he tipped the goblet forward so you could look inside, “not a drop wasted.”

Sure enough, the goblet still contained a hefty portion of deep red liquid. 

You applauded his effort and a few of the other kids joined in. “Well done, Meli. But, uh, you didn’t drink any, did you?”

Meli scowled. “Yuck, no thanks. I don’t know why adults like this stuff.”

Astarion bent forward. “I’ll be taking that,” he swiped the goblet back, “thank you.” He took a long, deep sip, then wiped a drop that rolled down the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Who’s next?” you asked.

Silfy reached into the boat and pulled out a small brooch, covered in rubies and emeralds. “I got this from his tent.”

You got down on your knees in front of her again. “Oh Silfy!” you said, in awe of the craftsmanship. “This is lovely! Good job.” You turned to show Astarion.

He looked uninterested. “That was my mother’s.”

You stiffened briefly, then relaxed. “No, it wasn’t.”

He snorted. “Of course it wasn’t. I swiped it off some dead-” You made a face at him and nodded towards the kids, reminding him that young ears were listening, “-teddy… bear?”

“People die,” Mattis said flatly. “We’re not idiots.”

“I’m missing a gods damn eye,” Mol pointed to the bandage around her head.

You sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even trying, you guys are way too smart.” You turned and handed the brooch back to Astarion who pocketed it without question. 

“The smartest,” Mol grinned, looking around at the other seven.

Mirkon stepped forward. “Me next!” he reached into the boat and pulled something out, concealing it behind his back. He looked very pleased with himself when he revealed a set of thieves' tools. 

Astarion laughed once, humorlessly. “I have a million of those.”

Mirkon smirked. “Yes, but only one on your person.”

Astarion’s face fell and he patted himself down. His mouth raised into the smallest smile. “Not bad.” 

Mirkon tried to look cool, but he burst into a grin and stepped back to rejoin the others. You handed the tools to Astarion who hid them on his person once again and took another sip of his wine.

Zaki reached into the boat. “Here’s what I got.” He held out an unmarked tin but one that you recognized as one of Astarion’s beloved hair products.

Astarion spat a bit of his wine. “Give that here,” he held out his hand and Zaki clutched the tin closer to his chest. 

“Why should I?”

“Um, Zaki?” You made eye contact with him and shook your head. 

Zaki sighed and handed it over to Astarion reluctantly. “Tasted terrible anyway.”

You laughed and Astarion sputtered. “This is NOT to be ingested, you twerp.”

“Weirdo man!” Zaki exclaimed in response.

“Oof,” you turned to Astarion, “that’s gotta hurt.”

The kids laughed. Astarion narrowed his eyes. 

He examined the contents of the tin to see how much was left. When he saw that not much had been sacrificed, he sighed in relief. “This is a fine hair product from a particular salon in the Upper City that I was able to snatch while on the road. I only have the one container, if you must know.”

You turned back to Zaki. “Well done,” you clapped for him. “It’s like you stole his baby.”

Zaki blushed and smiled before Doni stepped forward.

He made a small noise and held out a hairbrush. 

Astarion gasped and snatched it from Doni quickly. “This was actually on my person during the Nautiloid crash.” He held it close to his chest. “I had it hidden away, how’d you find it?”

Doni responded with another unintelligible noise.

Astarion looked at the other kids.

Arabella shrugged. “We try not to question his methods.”

You patted Doni’s arm. “Great job, Doni.”

He smiled and Arabella took his place. 

She held out a small coin purse. “Tah dah!”

Astarion bent forward to examine it closer. “Sorry darling, that’s not mine.”

Arabella smiled. “I know.” She loosened the string to the purse and emptied the contents into her hand. A substantial amount of coins fell into her palm. “But these are.”

Astarion gasped and felt around his person again. You and Mol laughed at the look on his face. “Har har, I’d like those back now, please.”

Arabella handed the coins back a little too eagerly.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “All of it.”

Arabella’s shoulders slumped and she reached into the pocket of her skirt, handing him another handful of gold. 

“Work on your poker face, darling.” 

Arabella pursed her lips but nodded. 

“Mattis,” Mol said, motioning for him to step forward. 

Mattis nodded and looked between you and Astarion with a smirk. 

He extended his arms, revealing a dagger in each hand. “Whoa,” you said cautiously, motioning for the other kids to step away. 

Astarion laughed. “Be careful with those, kid.” He knelt next to you, looking Mattis in the eye. He elbowed the tiefling gently in the ribs, but it was enough to shock him into loosening his grip. Astarion caught one of the daggers and expertly grabbed the other one by the hilt and yanked it from Mattis’ hand. 

Before Mattis could even register what happened, Astarion was back on his feet, sheathing the daggers through his belt.

You looked at him with a shocked expression. He raised an eyebrow.

“What? Oh please, I didn’t hurt the child, and now he’s no longer armed. You’re welcome.”

You turned to Mattis. “You okay, Mattis?”

Mattis rubbed his chest and nodded. He looked up at Astarion in awe. “You have got to teach me that.”

The other kids agreed and crowded the vampire. 

He laughed uncomfortably. “There are… so many of you.” He looked to you for help.

“Alright guys, let’s give floofy hair some space.”

“Floofy?” Astarion brought a hand up to his hair as the kids dispersed. 

Mol stretched her arms over her head. “Best for last, I suppose.”

She went to reach into the boat for what you had to assume was the lute Astarion had hidden away for you. What she pulled out made you audibly gasp.

You’d expected something tattered, nothing special. Something plucked from the road by someone who didn’t understand the intricacies and nuances of musical instruments, but you knew you’d be content to make due with it because someone you deeply cared for had taken the time to pick it up and take it home to you.

Instead Mol presented you with a lute that looked like it hadn’t even been played yet. It was crafted from rosewood, giving it a pinkish hue and its surface shined as if it were just polished. Delicate roses were carved into the face and the strings were coiled tightly along the neck. 

“Oh,” you breathed out.

Mol raised an eyebrow. “Okay there, hero?”

You shook your head to break the spell. “I- yes.”

Mol turned to Astarion. “And what does this one mean to you? You had it stowed away so carefully with all those pillows and rags. Must be pretty special.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “It’s um… a gift.”

Mirkon giggled. “For who?”

Arabella crossed her arms. “It’s a lute. Clearly it’s for the bard.” She gestured to you with a nod of her head. 

Mattis blew out an unimpressed breath. “I saw her already carrying one around the Grove. Some gift.”

“So what?” Mirkon argued. “I think it’s nice.”

“So do I,” you confirmed, looking at Astarion, who caught your eye then turned away sheepishly. You turned back to the kids. “Want to know something funny?”

The kids looked intrigued and nodded, a few of them giving “yeah’s.”

You leaned in to whisper loudly and placed a hand next to your mouth as if telling a secret. “He broke my other lute,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder at Astarion.

He scoffed. “I did not!”

You tilted your head at him disapprovingly. “It’s your fault it broke.”

“I-” he tried to dispute you, but came up short and shut his mouth.

Mol laughed. “No wonder she wanted us to swipe your stuff. Although, seems kinda pointless now.” She handed you the lute.

It was a comfortable weight in your hands and you tested the sound. It would need a bit of tuning, but it was good enough for you to cast a minor illusion of fireworks around the kids, who all looked up in awe. You flipped the face of it up towards you and ran your fingers over one of the rose etchings. 

You turned to Astarion who was avoiding eye contact by drawing shapes in the dirt with the tip of his shoe. “Where did you find this?”

He looked at you and perked up, gaining an air of confidence that you usually saw when he was showing off in battle. “Found it on the Risen Road. Some poor soul perished with it hidden away in their belongings under a bunch of useless junk.” He examined his nails, feigning disinterest. “It was from the same horde where I found my hair product. I suspect some Upper City patriar accidentally stumbled into a pack of hungry gnolls on their way back to Baldur’s Gate. One can only imagine why they were all the way out here. But their loss was our gain.” He laughed airily. 

You stood and held your breath. “You’ve held onto this for that long?” 

Astarion deflated a little, caught. “I… may have been saving it for a special occasion.” He saw you move towards him. “Don’t be weird about this,” he warned, holding up a finger. “If you really annoyed me I was planning to give it to you and then destroy it. The look on your face would have been priceless.” He laughed again.

You ignored his deflection and took one of his hands in your own. “You’ve had this since before we-” you paused. “Since before last night.”

Astarion smiled softly. “I told you I liked you.” He looked away again when he asked, “But you like it?”

You bent forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s gorgeous. I love it. Thank you.”

“Gross,” Mattis moaned. “Can we just get our prizes now?”

You turned away from Astarion to face the kids again. “Right.” You clapped your hands together. “GALE!” You shouted, not bothering to turn your body in his direction, knowing he’d hear you anyway. 

Not even a second later, he misty stepped beside you. “Yes?” he asked. “How can I help?”

“Gale,” you said, your tone implying that you needed him to play along, “the kids did a great job of stealing from Astarion tonight.”

Gale furrowed his brow in confusion, but sensed the kind of answer you wanted. “Oh, that is most excellent news.”

You nodded and placed your hands on your hips. “I think we need to discuss their reward.”

“Absolutely,” Gale agreed. He motioned over to a patch of grass a little ways away, “Shall we?”

“Be right back,” you said. 

As you and Gale walked, you heard the kids talking to Astarion.

“So why do you have fangs? You some kind of demon?”

“My father was a bat.”

“Cool, can you fly?”

“No.”

Gale spun on his heel to face you. “So,” he started, “what’s going on?”

“Fair question. I wanted the kids to rob Astarion.”

“Sure,” Gale nodded. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Thought it would be funny. Didn’t think that far ahead.”

Gale nodded again. “Let me guess, you didn’t want them to actually keep the loot and now you need to satiate their desire for spoils of some kind.”

“You got it,” you confirmed.

He held a finger to his chin, lost in thought for a moment. “Alright. Play along.”

“Can do,” you said and followed after Gale back towards the kids.

“Why would I need echolocation if I’m not blind?” Astarion asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know!” Zaki shouted in the same tone. “You’re the one who’s half bat!”

“Tell me you can screech at least?” Meli asked.

Gale cleared his throat and the kids turned to face you.

“I don’t see no prizes,” Mol said, crossing her arms.

“An astute observation, Mol,” Gale agreed. “That’s because I’m going to summon your prizes from the Astral Plane.” Gale raised his eyebrows at you, talking out of his ass.

“Ooohhh,” you gushed, making what he said seem really impressive. 

“You’ve been to the Astral Plane?” Mirkon asked excitedly.

“Of course,” Gale lied.

Arabella cut in. “How do we know you’ve actually been?”

Gale chuckled. “How do you think we met our Githyanki friend?” He pointed to Lae’zel over his shoulder who was in the process of skewering watermelons with her greatsword as a few others watched.

The kids looked back at Gale, seeming to accept his reasoning.

Astarion rolled his eyes.

Gale rubbed his hands together, his fingers sparking with the purple glow of the weave. Something you suspected he was doing to try to further impress and convince the children.

“Who’s first?” he asked.

Meli was about to step forward, but Arabella stopped him.

“Doni got here first, he gets his prize first.”

Meli groaned. “I’m next, then.”

Gale smiled at the boy before him. “Well Doni, it’s Githyanki tradition that their most skilled warriors receive Crowns of Valor.”

You placed a hand on your heart, further playing along. “Gale! You can’t mean-”

“Oh, that’s right,” Gale nodded. “These young, intrepid adventurers deserve the highest of honors.”

You looked at the kids and raised your eyebrows. “That’s amazing!”

The kids shared excited glances and giggles as Astarion leaned in to you.

“To be clear,” he whispered, “Crowns of Valor don’t exist, right?”

“Correct,” you said through an unmoving smile. 

“And I knew that,” Astarion said unconvincingly.

Gale spun his hands through the air, the purple glow of the weave glowing brighter and brighter until a small, Doni sized crown appeared in Gale’s hands. It was of simple construction, made of tin with pointed peaks at the top, like the paper crowns you would make as a child. Then, Gale moved his hands some more and the crown molded itself into something similar to Lae’zel’s armor that you’d first met her in; polished silver with delicately raised patterns throughout, adorned with shining red jewels. 

“Whoa,” you said, genuinely impressed. 

Gale smirked and lifted the crown above Doni’s head. “I now bestow unto you the Githyanki Crown of Valor. Well done, lad.” He placed the crown on Doni’s head, who smiled widely and stepped back for the other kids to observe. 

They ooh’d and ah’d, a few even reaching to touch it, but Doni brought his hands up to the crown to keep it on his head.

Meli excitedly jumped forward. “Me next!”

One by one, the kids stepped up to receive their incredibly real and not conjured on the spot Crowns of Valor from Gale. 

“Thank you for the lute,” you said quietly to Astarion as the two of you watched the parade of children marching up to the wizard.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “I’m not sure you even deserve to keep it, given that you hired a bunch of children to steal it for you.”

You sighed loudly. “Just admit you were bested tonight and move on. I won’t think any less of you for it.”

He hummed in acknowledgement. “Don’t use this one as a club.”

“No promises,” you lifted the lute to mime hitting another imaginary bugbear. 

When Mol received her crown, the last of the kids to do so, Gale stood.

“Oof, the knees,” he muttered before rubbing his hands together to convey that his work here was finished. “Well then! I believe everyone has been thoroughly rewarded for their hard work.” He looked at you and winked. You mouthed a thank you.

Mol took off her crown and inspected it. “Hypothetically, how much could a Githyanki Crown of Valor sell for?”

You and Gale gasped dramatically.

“Why would you want to do that?” you asked, scandalized.

Mol rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Just tell us how much coin we’d get.”

Gale thought for a moment. “Hypothetically, if it were to be appraised, maybe about-” You elbowed him. “-a lot. Despite the absolutely priceless nature of the objects, you’d probably get a lot of coin.” He sounded pained to be saying such things.

“Excellent.” Mol said, examining her crown and then placing it back on her head. “Now,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “do you need anything else from us? Or can we go? There are drunk adults to swindle.”

“Charming,” Astarion said flatly. 

You straightened. “Yes, you’ve all done an excellent job tonight and are free to go.” 

As the kids were about to leave, you stepped in front of them, blocking their path. 

“No more stealing tonight-” you said and a few of them groaned, “-but it’s fair game again when we see you next. Which will be in Baldur’s Gate when you’re members of a highly respected new guild.” You smiled at Mol who looked at you smugly and nodded. 

“Damn right!” she said proudly. 

The others buzzed with agreement and started dispersing after saying their goodbyes. You hugged Silfy, Arabella, and Mirkon, and waved to the others who promised they’d be careful on their journey to the city. 

You stood back and watched them go, flanked on either side by Astarion and Gale. 

Astarion examined his nails. “Those weren’t worth anything, were they?”

Gale shook his head. “Not unless transmuted tin suddenly gains a lot of value amongst merchants and traders. I’ve been gathering different alchemical items and ingredients all throughout our journey, and that tin that I used was actually from-”

“Ugh, stop talking,” Astarion interrupted. “I merely asked if they were worth anything in case I needed to nick one of them off one of the little roaches before they leave and we never see them again.”

“Astarion,” you whacked his arm lightly. “They’re just kids. And I’m sure we’ll see them again.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” he sighed.

“You could also just ask Gale to make you one if you want.”

“I’d be happy to-”

Astarion held up a hand. “And ruin this hair? I don’t think so.”

You looped your arm through his and watched as a few of the kids retreated into their makeshift headquarters for the evening, while a few others made a point of walking by Lae’zel’s tent first. It was clear they were trying to show off in front of her, but Lae’zel paid them no mind and focused instead on cleaning her greatsword of watermelon chunks. After a moment of them pacing back and forth in front of her, she leered at them and the kids quickly ran back to the temple, terrified she might stab them. Scratch and the owlbear cub chased after them.

You turned to Gale. “Thank you for coming to the rescue. I owe you one.”

Gale smirked. “Is it really a party if one isn’t rescuing their friend from the clutches of their own antics?”

Astarion snorted. “What kind of parties have you attended?”

“Well, I thank you for your quick thinking and skill with the weave.”

Gale puffed his chest. “I am rather excellent at magic, as I’ve said many times over. Though I fear what will happen once those miscreants try to pawn off those fraudulent crowns.”

You shrugged. “That’s a problem for future us.”

Astarion tsked. “Assuming they can catch us.”

You and Gale laughed. 

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Gale agreed. “I’ll leave you two to your evening. Let me know if you find yourself in any more trouble.” He nodded his head to you. “Good night.”

“Good night Gale,” you smiled as he walked back towards the excitement of the party where Karlach and Rolan were partaking in a loud drinking contest.

Astarion pulled you closer to him and squeezed your hip. “I still can’t believe you did that. After everything I’ve done for you.”

You smiled at him. “Ah yes, thank you for deciding not to kill me every day since you’ve met me.”

He pulled you into a kiss. “You’re welcome,” he said, muffled against your mouth. Unsurprisingly, he tasted of wine.

You pulled away and inclined your head towards Withers, still standing stoically nearby.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m not even entirely sure he’s paying attention half the time, what with his distant stare and lack of meaningful conversation.”

“He called you my ‘bosom companion’ earlier.”

“He did what?” Astarion looked past you at the skeleton who made no move to acknowledge either of you. “I’ve barely had any time with her bosom yet, thank you.”

When Withers didn’t respond, you laughed and bent down to get a better grasp on your new lute. Astarion joined you, picking up his recently returned items and turning to face you. 

“Care to join me on a walk?” he asked.

You smirked. “This isn’t part of another plan to bed me, is it?”

Astarion laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He made his voice low and gravelly.

Your face went red. “Aren’t you drunk?” you asked, deflecting his advances as the two of you started making your way towards Astarion’s tent.

“Ah, ah,” Astarion tutted, “I was only ever tipsy. And to be honest, I believe the last of it burned off when the one person I stupidly trust most for some reason, betrayed my trust and stole my things.”

“We got them back!” you argued. 

“Hmm,” Astarion hummed. “Perhaps we should break up.”

You gasped loudly. “How dare you!”

He smirked. “I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Am I going to regret asking what you have in mind?”

“I can think of a few options,” he said as you reached his tent and he knelt to return his items to their proper places. 

You yawned. “Oh yeah?”

Astarion rose back up and looked at you softly. “Tired, darling?” 

You mentally surveyed how you were feeling. “I suppose I am.”

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. “A side effect of playing hero for dozens of tieflings. Told you it wasn’t worth it.”

You rested your arms over his shoulders. “And it surely has nothing to do with my lack of sleep last night, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” Astarion teased, kissing your forehead. “Go say your good nights.” He nodded towards the heart of the party where Karlach and Rolan were drunkenly singing an old dwarven drinking song. 

You looked at him curiously. “What about you?” 

“Trust me, my sweet, none of them are here to see me.” He tucked some hair behind your ear. “Even though I’m world-endingly beautiful.”

“I think you’ve mentioned that,” you teased. 

“They should count themselves lucky they even caught a glimpse.”

“Alright.”

“I mean, look at me.”

“I got it,” you laughed and pulled away from him, lifting your new lute one last time. “Will I see you later?”

Astarion furrowed his brow. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

You smiled shyly. “I don’t know, I’m still new at all of this.”

His expression grew soft. “As am I. We’ll get the hang of it.” His voice became flamboyant again when he said, “We are the most impressive pair in Faerûn after all.” Then he laughed brightly.

You laughed and turned to make your way to your tent to drop off your lute. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I await on baited breath, my love.”

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (fair) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

[melanieph321]

I have a request for dominik : doing laundry day with him and everything starts normal but then things get smutty because you only wear sexy panties and his hoodie and dominik gets turn on by it. Maybe at some point he fucks you on top of the washing machine?? Can you make it smut and fluff?? Thanks and love all your work ❤

I've been excited to do this one! 🤭

Hope you'll enjoy!

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 2.0

(DAY 3)

Dominik Szoboszlai x Reader - Laundry Day

Enjoy!

Laundry day. You didn't mind doing your laundry on a day like this. It was a slow Sunday. Dominik was off from training, sleeping in for once. You, however,  got up to do the laundry since putting off the task only resulted in chaos in a household shared with a professional football player.

Nevertheless, folding clothes could be quiet therapeutic, at least with a nice playlist running in the background while you did it. You found a good rhythm between ironing clothes and folding them into neat piles. One for Dominik and one for you.

"Where did you go?"

"Dominik?"

You turned around to see him standing in the door to the laundry room. He looked to just have rolled out of bed, rubbing his tired eyes, his tousled up hair sprouting in every direction.

"I woke up, and you weren't there. Where did you go?" He repeated, his voice still drozy from sleep.

"What do you mean?" You said.

Dominik's eyes looked you up and down, followed by a furrowed expression. "Are those my Batman socks?"

"Huh?" Your eyes fell onto your feet. "Oh, right."

You wouldn't call your laundry attire chic, but it was in fashion. At least if most of your clothes were still swirling around in the washing machine. You had to settle for what was left, in this case, an oversized hoodie, a pair of granny panties, and Dominik's favorite pair of stockings.

"I'm doing laundry." You smiled.

"All of it?"

"Yes."

Dominik stepped into the room, approaching the dresser and the pile of his neatly folded training clothes.

"Baby, I never asked you to do my laundry."

"I know." You chirped. "I wanted to."

"Why?"

"Because...I saw that your basket was full and was going to do my own laundry anyway." You shrugged.

"Wow, Y/N, thank you so much for doing my laundry," he said, still half asleep. "I've been meaning to do it for weeks now, but I've been too exhausted."

You smiled and gave him a hug. "I know how busy you are with your games and practices, so I thought I'd take some of the load off your shoulders. Besides..." You winked. "I know how much you hate doing laundry."

Dominik chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "You're right, I do hate doing laundry. But I love how thoughtful you are. You always know how to make me feel special."

You blushed. "Okay, let's just kiss the chef and take it easy now."

Dominik hooked his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. "Kiss the chef, huh?"

"It's an expression." You giggled.

Dominik nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his rough stubble tickling your skin. He kissed you gentle, tracing them downwards along where your collarbone would be if you weren't wearing a damn hoodie.

Dominik pulled back and regarded it with furrowed brows. "Yeah, this needs to come off."

You bit down on your lip. "I'm not wearing anything underneath.

"I known" He grinned and did not waste any more time. Your hoodie was tugged over your head, with Dominik's eyes widening at the sight of your breasts.

"Like what you see?"

He looked to you and smiled. His hands then rested on each side of your hips, lifting you up only to plot you back down on top of the washing machine.

"Fuck."

The sensation it gave. Like a giant vibrator stuck to your ass.

Dominik chuckled. "It feels good, no?"

You reached for his shirt and pulled him to stand in between your legs. There, Dominik bent down and kissed you. He kissed you with his tongue swirling around in your mouth. You were both out of it, just minutes into making out.

"Take these off." You said, tugging at the hemn of his sweatpants.

"Okay, just let me get a condom first."

"No." You whimpered. "I want to feel you."

Dominik's eyes lit up in suprise. "Are you sure?"

It didn't matter, with the washing machine going off on your clit you were on the verge of coming just by sitting on top of it.

"Yes, I'm sure. "I need you inside of me, now."

Dominik rushed to pull his sweatpants down, seeing how eager you were. His hard cock pulsating in his hand as he guided it towards your entrance, pushing you panties to the side in order to reveal how wet you were for him.

"Oh, God."

The sensation was really of no other. Both you and Dominik felt it. Fucking on top of the laundry machine brought new excitements to your sex life. Dominik squinted his eyes with the pleasure it gave him to be inside of you. You threw your head back as the thrust of his hips, along with the vibration from the washing machine, had you on the verge of passing out.

"Babe, I'm coming." Dominik said, a struck of panic in his voice. It was a bit short-lived from his side, but there was no need to be embarrassed. Your grip around his shoulders tightened as your orgasm bubbled up inside of you too, causing your walls to tighten around his length, making a mess as you came all over him and him all over you.

"Fuck, that was..."

"The best...."

The two of you struggled to catch your breaths.

"Agreed." Dominik nodded. "That was the best sex we've ever had."

You smiled cheaply at him. "I guess doing laundry isn't so bad after all?"

"No, I love it. Let's do laundry every day."

[enkas-illusion]

Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Reiner x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre/Theme: Friends to lovers; non-titan au

Content warning: fluff, teasing, language, size kink!!!, smut, piv sex, protected sex, oral (f & m), various positions, overstimulation, kinda dom!Reiner, sub!reader, porn with some plot.

Summary: Helping college friend Reiner, who’s cleaning his room, but it turns into a friends to lovers type beat.

Author's Note: Hello, this is how I picture a millennial Reiner if he wasn't depressed as fuck so sorry if his personality doesn't match. Hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading <3

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: From The Start by Laufey / Rodeo (feat. Flo Milli) by Lah Pat

“How do I look?” You turn your back to the mirror, eyes searching your friend's face for an affirmative reaction.

“Thought you were here to help me,” he mumbles, merely glancing at you for a second before getting back to folding and sorting the pile of clothes on the bed.

“I ammm,” you whine as you take off the star-shaped funky glasses, swinging it in your hand as you make your way to where three boxes are placed on the study table next to the bed, “Which pile?” 

He doesn't hear you, attention focused on the t-shirts he's sorting on the bed.

“Reiner?” 

“Oh yeah sorry… I was certain I'd lost this,” he holds his football jersey up for you to see before looking at the glasses in your hands.

“Those are Jean's,” he answers as he points to the right box. You let out an involuntary chuckle.

“What?” Reiner asks as he holds a different t-shirt up, examining it before tossing it into the box on the left.

“Nothing… weirdly enough, it seems very Jean-like to own these,” you explain.

“Didn’t know you talked to him enough to assess his personality,” you hear him mumble, still faced away from you, folding his clothes.

“Well, in 3 years of college, it's not unusual to have a few conversations with friends, is it?” You move next to him, picking up the jersey he'd placed to the side.

“He's advanced to ‘friend’ now, has he?” He teases, finally looking at you as you hold it up to your shoulders.

“Aren’t they changing the jersey next term?” You question, ignoring his comment.

He nods and you smile at him slyly, “So, can I keep this?” He rolls his eyes at you in an exaggerated manner and you take it as a yes.

You walk to the mirror, putting on the jersey over your tank top. As expected, size ‘Reiner’ is too large for you and the jersey ends just a little shy of the length of your shorts.

“Umm, this actually looks quite decent,” you speak more to yourself.

“Okay, Adam Sandler.”

You simply let out a dry ‘ha ha’ at his joke before fiddling with the hem to make the fabric drape a bit more elegantly. You look up to catch Reiner in the reflection eyeing you, only for him to look away awkwardly.

“You know he has a crush on you, right?” He speaks after the moment passes.

“Jean? Oh my! I had no idea,” your sarcastic tone manages to break out a smile on his face as he rolls his eyes at you once again.

“It's kinda easy to tell! I can’t pinpoint it, but when guys like you, they act a bit odd… it's just the vibes,” you explain.

“Hmm,” he contemplates as he clears the remaining clutter from the bed, placing it all in the ‘Jean’ box.

You move to him, peeping over his arm, “All of this is Jean's stuff?” 

“Yeah… kinda glad I'm getting a separate room. I may tolerate him as a friend, but I just don't want a roommate for final year,” he chuckles awkwardly, packing his boxes and shoving the rest of his stuff in his suitcase.

“So, when do you leave for the vacations?” You ask as you rummage through the Jean box.

“Flight’s tomorrow afternoon but I'll still have to leave for the airport by… 11-ish, I guess?”

“So you'll move your stuff to the new room after you return from home?”

“Hmm, the guy living there hasn't cleared his shit out yet.”

You fiddle with the cowboy hat you find in the box. Another moment of awkward silence. 

“Do you find him attractive too?” He asks hesitantly.

“Jean? Yeah, I've got eyes, you know; he's fucking hot obviously,” you're the only one to laugh at your joke, “...but I doubt he's my type.”

“Hmm,” he's lost in thought so you just stand there awkwardly, trying to find more interesting things in the box. Something about Reiner feels different today but you haven't been able to figure it out yet.

“If you can really tell on a hunch… is there anyone else who you think might have a crush on you?” He breaks the silence again.

“Other than you?” You tease and he laughs awkwardly, cheeks turning red.

“Stop toying with that… you came here to help me but you're doing the opposite,” he mumbles, changing the subject and taking the hat from your hands to put it back in the box.

You giggle, knowing you've successfully made him awkward. 

“Only here for moral support,” you take the hat once again, reaching your hand up to place it on his head. You bite the inside of your cheek but decide to speak anyway, “hmm… I get the appeal, you look kinda handsome.”

He gives you a crooked smile as he tips the corner of the hat down, “Do I, now?”

“You’re so used to everyone complimenting you by now… regardless, don't get all cocky about it!” you point your index finger to his chest, pushing him away playfully.

“Me? Cocky? I'm just a humble guy… What compliments? I’m completely bitchless,” he sighs.

Your fake accusatory tone turns into an almost serious one as you call his bullshit, “You got at least half the campus flirting with you, the only reason they give up is cause you don't bother pursuing them after the first date. If anything, you are far from bitchless!”

“Not half the campus…” he rolls his eyes, “...it's a lot more than that.”

You chuckle at this, “oh, so you’re aware?”

“I think if someone approaches you to sleep with them, believe it or not, they might like you,” he teases as he watches you go through the items in the box.

“Oh, so you just fuck them and leave them hanging on purpose?” you fake gasp and he moves towards you. 

“Hmm… what's the point in wasting time like that if I have no intentions of getting with them?” he asks and you cringe at his words. 

“Hey… no, I've always made my intentions clear with them, not my problem if they end up wanting more… What's with the judgy look? I don't fuck around that much,” he clarifies. You turn to look at him, only to find him eyeing the jersey.

You whisper a sarcastic ‘sure’ as he brings his arms around and it almost looks like he's about to hug you but he simply grabs your shoulders to turn you around till your back is facing him.

His fingers move your hair out of the way before gliding them over his name on the back of the jersey.

“Suits you,” he mumbles and it's barely audible. 

His fingers accidentally make contact with your nape, tickling your skin and you push his hand away as a reflex. He doesn’t say anything and it's another one of those awkward silences, making you wonder why they've been happening so many times today. 

“I'll miss you,” he says and you look at him as he moves away from you to slump down on the bed, resting on his elbows, having tidied up the entire room.

“You'll be back in about a month's time,” You reply, your cheeks feeling warmer due to such an out-of-place confession. 

“I told you you were welcome to stay at my place for the summer,” he shrugs.

“I know, but it’s the last time I'd be able to attend those workshops… and maybe try for an internship while I still have time,” you sit next to him and he sits up properly to face you.

“Do–,” he stops abruptly, his face showing he’s fighting his own thoughts, “Take care, okay? Don’t be lazy with food or miss meals. If you don’t feel like cooking, just order in.”

“Yes, mother,” you bow, giggling. He rolls his eyes again before hooking his arm around you to catch you in a headlock, but you’re quick to move out of it, escaping as you get off the bed and away from him. He simply lets out a booming laughter at you predicting his movements, shaking his head as he leans back down on his elbows.

As the laughter dies down quickly, he lets out a sigh, “Can’t believe packing took so long, I’m tired.” 

You try not to stare but you can’t help but notice how gorgeous he looks like this – the way his legs rest off the bed from knees down make his thighs look thicker than they already are, while his torso looks slender and muscular at the same time. Even when clothed, Reiner has the type of body that has you imagining what's underneath and makes you feel perverted for wanting to see him naked, imagining all kinds of dirty things.

When you look at his face, adorned with the cowboy hat, your stomach does a flip and you look down at your feet to collect your wandering thoughts, “Should I leave? You can take a nap, we’ll meet later for dinner.”

“What? No, stay,” he pats the space next to him and this time you follow him, leaning back on your elbows as well. 

You turn to look at him only to find him already smiling at you softly. When your eyes meet, you mumble ever so quietly, “I’ll miss you too.”

“I’ll be back in about a month's time,” he mimics your statement from earlier and it’s your turn to roll your eyes. He laughs and you smile at him nonetheless. 

His eyes wander down to your lips and yours follow his movement. He bites the corner of his lip briefly in thought, before mumbling a ‘fuck this.’

Your eyebrows furrow and the silence is soon replaced by the rapid beating of your heart when Reiner suddenly moves closer, almost leaning over you till your noses are only about an inch apart.

He looks into your eyes, searching for permission. You toss the hat he's wearing to the side before cupping one hand over his cheek gently. He takes it as a sign, closing the gap to kiss you hard.

Since you’re supporting your upper body on one elbow, your balance goes off when his bodyweight pushes onto yours.

This breaks the kiss and you giggle as you stumble back on the bed. Reiner straddles you, caging you under him before kissing you hastily again.

His fingers intertwine with yours as he pins your hands above your head. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and you let him. It's filthy – the way the room is quiet except for the desperate smooching sounds. 

He breaks the kiss when you're both out of breath, instead pecking your cheek before nudging his nose to your jaw and you tilt your face to the side to give him access. His lips latch to your neck and your breath hitches.

This is real, it dawns on you. This is nothing like the one time you'd shared a drunken 3am kiss with him about a year ago at a friend's party. A kiss that had directly influenced your crush on him to grow exponentially. A kiss that had been left unaddressed since both of you assumed the other would've forgotten, neither wanting to be the one to bring it up in fear of being that fool.

“You look so cute in my jersey,” his words break your thought. He bites your skin, causing you to whimper at the feeling.

“Rei– mmh– Reiner, wait,” you sigh and he stops to look at you, his grip on your hands loosening slowly. 

“Do you not want to…”

“No! I mean– I do,” you move away from under him to sit up in front of him, “What does this mean to you?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I mean… are you just gonna fuck and forget me too?” you add bluntly.

“I'm not crazy to jeopardise my friendship with you just cause I couldn’t keep it in my pants,” he states dryly.

“Oh,” you fiddle with the hem of the jersey, recounting your next words in your head, “I… I've had a bit of a crush on you for a while actually, so I don’t want to be just another girl you sleep with and never call again.”

“Me too,” he confesses. Your head shoots up as you stare at him, perplexed. “Well, the feeling’s mutual. When we kissed back then, I thought it was only cause there was something unfinished there, you know? But now even after a year, it still hasn't faded,” he scratches the back of his neck.

You stare at him and he waits for you to speak. You clear your throat before finding a comprehensible chain of words.

“Then how come you still continued to fuck around so much when you had this massive crush on me?” you wonder out loud.

“The best way to get over someone is to get on someone,” he laughs.

“Maybe I should’ve done that too… college would’ve been more adventurous that way.”

“Well, better late than never,” he caresses your cheek. You shrug.

He pinches your cheek lightly, “But just so you know, I haven’t had sex in like five months now… it's when I realised I really liked you.”

“Oh my– five months? How are you still alive?” You tease, feigning shock. His palm covers your face as he shoves you away playfully, causing you to laugh once again.

“Then why did you never tell me about it?” you enquire again.

“Hmm?”

“Your crush… maybe we could’ve gotten together much sooner if you’d confessed,” You press further.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Your face burns up, “I– well, you know…”

“Yes, exactly,” he adds and it makes you giggle.

“So, what changed today? How come you’re so brave all of a sudden?” you egg on.

“Because I'm selfish,” he looks into your eyes, dead serious, “and jealous… I'll be gone for like a month, I know Jean's staying back as well… didn't want to lose you to him simply cause I didn't have enough balls to tell you how I felt.”

You snort at his words and he smiles at you. You hesitantly hold his hands into yours as you feel the tension dissipate. 

“Reiner, you’re like my best friend… I know you and you know me. Be honest, am I going to regret this?”

You can sense he’s thinking carefully about what he’s going to say next. So, you wait in anticipation as your throat feels tight due to the nervousness.

“You know sex has never been that big of a deal to me… but if you want to know, yes, it’ll be different with you because I really do like you... You’re kinda adorable,” he kisses your knuckles.

When you don’t speak, he continues, “I know it’s not exactly convincing, but I hope you can tell when I'm being sincere. You can trust your best friend, right?”

You nod as you bite your lip in thought. He intertwines his fingers with yours, pulling your attention back to him, “You won’t regret it. Just give me a chance, okay?”

You smile and nod your head. He leans forward to kiss you briefly. You pull back to speak again, “It's been a while since I've done this… just letting you know.”

“Oh… we don't have to do anything today,” he reassures you, “I’m just glad everything’s out there now.”

You shake your head too eagerly, “No! I want to.”

“Okay,” his smile widens as he wraps his arms around your waist, readjusting your position with ease till you’re straddling his lap. 

Your breath hitches once again as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, “I would've actually combusted into flames if you'd said no.” 

You chuckle at this, shaking your head at him, resting your palms over his shoulders.

“Relax, it's just me,” he cups your face into his hands.

“That's precisely why I'm nervous,” you reply. He rolls his eyes again before pulling you into a kiss. His left hand is placed firmly on your cheek while his right hand pushes the small of back forward.

When he grinds his hips against yours, you feel how hard he already is. He pulls at your bottom lip as his left hand dips into the jersey to grope at the mound of your breast, causing you to let out a soft moan.

“Shit,” he huffs before his lips move down to your collarbone as you grind back and forth over his clothed cock. You pull away from him as you take off your jersey before hastily removing the tank top as well. 

Reiner grins at you, quick to unhook your bra and toss it to the ground before cupping your tits and squeezing them together. You hum as you tug at his t-shirt to take it off but struggle due to his arms restricting the movement. He snorts softly before pulling it off himself in one swift motion.

You run your fingers over his bare chest, feeling flustered at how perfectly sculpted his torso is. Your eyes meet and you don't shy away, wanting a reassurance of his sincerity.

“Yes?” He questions as he smiles softly, recognizing that look.

“I guess there's no going back now,” you joke awkwardly followed by a laughter that makes it even more awkward.

“Why go back when something better awaits us in the future?” He smiles as he gives you a quick peck.

“And what's that?” your fingers find their way to his nape, playing with the fade of his beautiful blonde hair.

“A boyfriend who's whipped for you, can make you happy, keep you satisfied and is also your best friend,” he states all the while tracing his index and middle finger down your collarbone to your perked nipples.

“I don't know about the last one… I doubt we're best friends,” you suck in air through your teeth as you tease him.

“Right… best-est friends then,” he smiles and you laugh at him.

“That was horrible!”

“All my blood is rushing towards a different head… don’t expect me to crack good jokes,” he grunts before abruptly pushing you down on the bed and his lips are quick to attach to your neck, causing your laughter to turn into a squeaky whimper.

Before you realise it, he’s yanked your shorts away, leaving you only in your underwear. You want to facepalm yourself when you realise you’re wearing boxer briefs – not exactly your sexiest pair of underwear. He chuckles slightly.

“What?” you challenge.

“Nothing…” he presses his lips together to suppress his grin before joking, “Didn’t know you shopped from the men’s section.”

“Ah… I forgot you’re used to pretty thongs. Sorry to disappoint, buddy,” you pat his head in an almost condescending manner.

“Not at all, I'm not that shallow… it’s what on the inside that matters,” he smirks as he hooks his fingers into the waistband before pulling the fabric off of you. You smile at his joke but quickly find yourself getting flustered at being completely naked in front of him – his gaze raking over your body making it far from easy to keep your cool.

You push him back till you’re sitting up straight, raking your nails over his torso softly. You tilt your head to kiss him, cupping his jaw as your tongue slides into his mouth before you feel his fingers dig into your hips to pull you closer. You break the kiss to look at him, blurting your words out before your bravado fades, “Take off your clothes.”

He nods before getting off the bed to slide his sweats down along with his underwear in one swift motion, letting his dick spring free. You gulp as you stare shamelessly at his glorious cock, realising why all the women he hooked up with always wanted to come back for more.

Seeing him this way made you discover two things about yourself – one, you’d been dreaming of this way more than you’d realised; two, you might’ve just developed a size kink in case you didn’t already have one before.

You shift till you're sitting on the edge of the bed, holding your hand out to him. He moves closer, his fingers combing through your hair before tucking the loose strands behind your ear.

You smile at him before your eyes break contact to instead look at his painfully hard cock, leaking with precum, waiting for you to take care of it. As you wrap your fingers around it, you feel Reiner grip your hair lightly. You lick your lips before enveloping them around his tip, sucking gently to test the waters.

When you hear him groan, you swirl your tongue around the head, making his grip on your hair tighten. Your left hand splays over the back of his thigh while your right hand moves to the bottom of his shaft that you can’t take in your mouth.

As you bob your head over his length with your hand adding to his unbridled pleasure, you feel tears forming in your eyeline when his tip hits the back of your throat a few times.

Admittedly, you try your best to keep up despite your jaw aching as his low moans fuel your desire but you let out a muffled whimper when he pushes your head closer. 

His head that was lulling back till now tilts forward to look at you as his grip on your hair loosens as he tries to steady his hips, “Shit, sorry baby.”

You shake your head slightly before pulling away from him. You murmur an ‘it’s okay’ before quickly taking him in your mouth once again. You fasten your pace, sucking him in your mouth while your hand squeezes the bottom of his length tighter. You can tell he’s close by how he twitches slightly, coupled with how his thigh muscles are flexing.

“W-where?” he huffs, voice strained. You pull away from his dick, motioning towards your tits. His eyes fixate on your chest as your hand keeps on pumping his dick and within moments, your skin is covered with his sticky white load, trickling down the valley of your breasts. You squeeze his length till his cum spurts out completely.

“Fuck… holy shit. You’re so hot,” he pants as his hand glides over your hair as if to praise you for doing a good job. You lean back on the bed, resting your weight on your arms as you smile at him lazily, too tired to speak.

Reiner bends down to grab his t-shirt from the floor before leaning over you to wipe his cum off your tits slowly but you let out a chuckle when it feels as if he’s spreading it around more than cleaning it up. 

Once he’s finished ‘cleaning up’, he tosses the t-shirt away before spreading your legs apart and getting on his knees in front of you. His hands rub over your thighs in a comforting manner as he smiles at you. You lean forward to kiss him and feel him pull you towards him till you’re sliding off the bed and onto his lap. 

His lips move down to your neck while his fingers play with your tits, causing you to moan softly. His right hand abandons your tit to move down to your core and you squirm when you feel two fingers glide your folds open, spreading the wet arousal around.

“Fuck… Reiner,” you sigh, bucking your hips forward while your fingertips rake his back. You slap a palm over your mouth when his middle and ring fingers slide into your cunt. He continues to suck and bite the skin over your collarbones, leaving tiny angry marks all over the expanse of your neck while his fingers fuck into you. He chuckles at your attempt to muffle your moans.

“Baby, you’re gonna have to be a lot quieter…” his other hand pulls yours away from your lips before gripping over your jaw, “if you don’t want anyone to hear your pretty voice.”

He kisses you fervently, shoving his tongue into your mouth to stifle your moans quite effectively, except the noise is now replaced with the wet kisses and his fingers pumping in and out of you ruthlessly.

Your nails dig into his shoulders to steady yourself as you break the kiss, your chest heaving as you look at him with a fucked out expression, lips connected with a thin string of saliva that disappears just as quickly as it forms.

“Shit… I can’t wait any longer. Please let me fuck you?” he asks as he kisses your cheek softly. You nod as you follow his action, kissing his cheek in return. His fingers pull out of you and you feel the sudden emptiness as he grabs you by your hips to help you sit up on the bed once again.

He gets up to walk to his closet. You see him rummage through it briefly before closing the door. When he turns around, you see a box of condoms in his hand. However, when he opens it, you see his face drop but you don’t have to ask him why when you see him hold up the single pack left in his hand and throw the empty box on the floor.

“And you said you don’t fuck a lot,” you joke, solely to make him laugh.

Instead he rolls his eyes at you again before defending himself, “I don’t… if I did, I’d have tons of 'em lying around, just in case.”

“Whatever you say, buddy,” you tease again as you move back to lie down fully on the mattress, “just fuck me right and all’s forgiven.”

“Bet on it,” he grins like an idiot and quickly puts the condom on before climbing on top of you. He grabs one of the spare pillows to place it under your lower back. You lift your hips up and let him readjust your position to his liking, till his knees are hooked under your thighs to keep them wide open.

“Ready?” he asks as he glides his tip over your folds to collect your slick before lining it up at your entrance.

You huff out a ‘mhmm’ as you nod your head, accompanied with a nervous giggle. He leans down to give you a quick peck before whispering against your lips, “Breathe…gonna make you feel so good.” 

As his tip pushes into your hole, you suck in a deep breath that turns into a constricted exhale when you feel him slowly push deeper into you. 

“Ahh– Rei– oh god,” Your eyebrows knit as your hands find their way to his chest, nails digging into his flesh shakily.

“Too much? Fuck– want me to stop?” he huffs, trying not to lose his composure at how your walls are fluttering around him. 

“No… please keep going,” you beg desperately as your arms hook around his shoulders. He nods and you close your eyes.

He kisses your temple as he slowly continues to push inside you, “Breathe baby, relax.”

Reiner rests his forehead against yours as his ragged breaths fan your face and you can tell he's trying his best to be gentle with you. 

“Oh god,” you sigh when he bottoms out. He shushes you as his left hand grabs both your wrists, pinning them firmly over your head. As he braces his bodyweight with his other hand, his knees push your legs further apart. He pulls out slowly before sliding back into you with an excruciatingly slow pace.

You whimper when you feel your walls hug his length tightly. He repeats this for a few more thrusts to let you adjust to his size. But truth be told, it has your patience wearing thin, wanting nothing more than to feel him rail your brains out.

“Reiner p-please,” you moan, only for him to play dumb.

“Yes?”

“Faster, please!”

“Like this?” he asks as he slows down further, enjoying the way your frustration shows on your face. He kisses the crease between your eyebrows gently and while the action makes you feel things, your sexual frustration precedes it by miles.

“Reiner, I swear to god, if you don–”

“Remember, you asked for this,” he interrupts as his grip around your wrists tightens, pulling out in one swift motion before slamming back into you. This makes you moan louder than before and you can tell he’s enjoying it a bit too much. His pace quickens as his hips slam against yours with an ungodly force. You cry his name out, mixed with lewd curses as your wrists wiggle against his hold to break free.

“Mmh– Reiner,” you cry and he leans down to kiss your forehead. You feel your tears trickle down the sides and you focus your blurry vision on his face. His eyebrows are knitted with a concentrated expression on his face. 

“That’s it– fuck… tell ‘em who’s fucking you so good, baby,” he groans before kissing your cheek and biting your earlobe. You feel a bit more aware and embarrassed at his words, tilting your head to the side to drown out your moans into his mouth. He obliges as he kisses you back, alternating between shoving his tongue down your throat in a way that has your stomach doing flips and biting your lower lip before releasing it with a pop.

His lips find their way to one of your breasts, sucking on the hardened nipple and making your back arch. You try to wriggle your wrist again before begging him, “Reiner, let me touch you, please.”

“Okay, baby, whatever you want,” he says before his teeth pull at your nipple and your brain feels foggy due to the sensation. He lets go of your wrists and as soon as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, he wraps his arm around your waist. He pulls you to him firmly as he sits up straight, still buried deep inside you as you straddle his lap. 

Straddling him like this hits much better and you find yourself clawing at his shoulders and biceps when he lifts you by your hips firmly before slamming you onto his cock with ease. Reiner’s lips are back on your neck once again as he practically uses you like his own personal fleshlight.

You moan his name with ragged breaths as your pussy flutters around his cock. He slows down, breathing getting heavier before he switches to grinding your hips back and forth. You squirm against him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

From this angle, you can see your face in the wall mirror. You lift your head up slightly to observe the way your bodies are moving together and your cheeks grow hot at how fucked you look, and then you look down to see the freshly formed red marks on Reiner’s shoulders – it’s nothing less than a porno, and you feel your walls clench around him.

“Shit– baby, I’m close,” he cusses as he picks up the speed once again. You close your eyes shut, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself as he starts bouncing you up and down at a faster pace. His cock impales you so good, you have to fight the urge to accidentally say you love him.

His movement gets erratic as his fingers dig further into your flesh as it starts to sting ever so slightly. He bites the skin over your shoulder blade to stifle his moans when you feel his dick twitch inside you. You hear soft cusses as his movement slows down before his grip on your hips loosens and he holds you in place for a moment.

Your pussy throbs, feeling incomplete as he pulls out before gently laying you down on the mattress. He kisses your chin before sitting up to take off the condom, tying a knot around it and tossing it in the vicinity of the torn wrapper. His hands make their way around your ankles as he bends down to hook them over his shoulders.

Your breath hitches once again when his face moves closer to your core. He places a kiss on the inside of your right thigh and rubbing soft caresses over your left thigh, all the while maintaining eye contact with you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles and you lace your fingers into his hair. His fingers part your folds and you close your eyes, humming approvingly. He licks a strip up from your dripping hole to your clit, and your head falls back as you sink into the mattress.

Your whisper broken praises when he starts alternating between sucking on your puffy clit and poking his tongue into your entrance. Reiner laps at your juices relentlessly, making your legs shake. Your back arches when he adds two fingers into your entrance, his tongue solely focusing on your oversensitive clit. Your grip on his hair tightens and he hums as he continues to get you closer to your release. 

“Taste so good, babe…” he mumbles between licks before sucking on your clit. His words go to your head and you chant his name in broken moans. 

Your hips jerk off the mattress slightly as you push his head impossibly closer to your cunt, your entire body shaking as you feel your pleasure build up. He curls his fingers inside you, pumping them at a steady pace and you feel your legs twitch.

“Yesyesyes– just like that, don't stop,” you cry as you feel your pussy throb and twitch, your muscles squeezing up before your orgasm washes over you and you cum on his fingers. Reiner takes his fingers out with a big grin, generously slurping your juices up. 

“Oh god, Reiner. Stop–” You try to push his head away due to how sensitive you feel but the man between your legs doesn't budge as he licks you clean. You claw at his hair roughly and he chuckles before placing a soft kiss on your clit and finally letting go. 

Your legs fall off his shoulders limply and he gives you a satisfactory smirk. You hold your arms out for him. He moves up to rest his entire weight on top of you and you almost feel the wind knock out of your lungs due to how heavy he is.

“R-reiner… I'll die if you stay like this any longer,” you exaggerate and he laughs. He moves down till his head is resting on your stomach instead.

“Better?” he enquires and you nod your head as you caress his hair softly. You giggle when he peppers your belly with lazy kisses. He sighs in satisfaction as his hands roam all over your body with a gentle pressure, “I love this… staying with you like this.” 

“I’m going to miss you even more now,” you pat his head softly.

“Should I just tell my parents I’m staying back for an internship or some shit?” The way he speaks makes you wonder if he’s seriously considering it.

“No? They’ll see through your bullshit like always,” you state and he slumps, groaning against your stomach.

“How am I gonna handle not being so close to you for a whole damn month?” he looks up to smile at you and you smile back. You're about to reply but freeze in place when you hear someone fiddle with the door lock. Your eyes widen as you stare at Reiner.

“WAIT!” he shouts as he gets off you, hearing the door unlock but it’s too late. He quickly manages to haphazardly cover your bodies with his single blanket before Jean walks in.

The new intruder stops dead in his tracks when he sees you next to Reiner. You hold the blanket close to your chest to prevent it from slipping as Reiner sits up next to you.  

You give Jean an almost apologetic grin and he forces himself to recover quickly to avoid further embarrassment. 

He clears his throat before looking at Reiner. “You forgot to put a sock...” his words trail off as he points to the door.

“Sorry, it just happened–” Reiner rubs the back of his neck as he drags out his excuse, but before he can finish his sentence, Jean mumbles an ‘alright’ before walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh as you look at Reiner.

“What?” he asks as he turns to lie on his side to face you, head resting against his bicep.

“I don’t know why, I feel bad for him,” you pout as you run your fingers through his hair to flatten the messy strands.

He wraps his free arm around you to pull you closer, “Eh… he should’ve seen it coming. He knew we’d kissed.”

You look up at him in surprise, “He did?”

“‘If y'all didn’t go beyond a kiss, nothing’s gonna happen’... so no, I don’t really feel bad for him,” he shrugs.

“Reiner, you’re a meanie,” you let out a chuckle as you shake your head.

“If not wanting another dude to steal my girl is being a meanie then sure, I’ll proudly be a meanie for you,” he kisses the top of your head as his arm traces your silhouette, lowering the blanket off your body along the way.

You blush as you lean forward to give him a quick peck. He wraps his arm around your waist, turning you over till you're straddling him. You rest your head on his chest as he draws circles on your back. 

“Reiner?” you look up at him, placing your hands gently on his chest.

“Hmm?”

“I really like you,” you bite the inside of your cheek nervously. This confession feels a lot more vulnerable than the one from earlier.

“I do too,” he smiles as he takes your hand before bringing it to his lips to place a reassuring kiss on your knuckles. You giggle when he bites the skin playfully. His hand leaves yours to slide down your lower back before squeezing your butt.

“Shit– maybe I can pull out this time?” he suggests as his hand slides over to your pussy.

“No way!” you slap his chest.

“Ugh… fine… put on some clothes if you want to avoid that,” he slaps your butt, earning a yelp from you. He laughs as he wraps his arms around you tightly.

“Okay… let me go,” you try to move but he hugs you tighter.

“No, you feel so soft,” he hums as his hands move down to knead your asscheeks. You hum as you rest comfortably on top of him, tracing the muscles of his arm lazily. A few moments pass by in silence before your stomach rumbles, embarrassingly loud.

Reiner laughs, “I guess we have to get out now.”

“I’m starving,” you confess as you laugh back awkwardly.

“Good god, you’re so fucking cute,” he flips you around till he’s on top before kissing you softly. You feel his fingers wrap around your throat as his tongue invades your mouth once again. You hook your legs around his lower back and his hips grind against yours on instinct. You let out a soft moan as your arms hug his wide back, pulling him closer and he groans into the kiss.

“Don't do that… I'm trying my best to hold back,” he scolds as he breaks away from the kiss. 

You trace your index finger down his torso playfully, “Maybe we can buy another pack on our way back?”

“Okay, let’s get you some food,” he kisses you hastily before springing out of bed.

You laugh as you follow behind him before making your way to the bathroom door. He hands you his towel and you’re about to step into the bathroom but stop when he calls your name. You look back at him, puzzled.

“Wear my jersey.”

~fin~

[pebblysand]

I enjoyed castles and found it to be a very thought provoking narrative. However one thing that bothers me as a member of the Chinese diaspora and member of the Hui ethnic minority who experienced first hand the anti Asian and specifically anti Chinese sentiment that happened during Covid, I find it a little tiring that the Chinese, even the diaspora community are portrayed as unequivocally the bad guys. Don’t you feel that by choosing this specific time period to stage this wizarding war in you are kind of falling into the anti-Chinese sentiment? And the Chinese government you portray in castles in obviously inhumane and evil, but I just don’t appreciate how it was kind of applied to every single Chinese person in that story. When Hong Kong began protesting thousands of Chinese diaspora showed their support. Many Chinese diaspora students have lead protests and boycotts for the inhumane treatment of the ethnic minorities in China.

I know ultimately that this is just a fanfiction and you probably weren’t thinking that deeply about it. But I guess I’m just a little bit tired, you know?

Hi anon! Thanks for taking the time to share this. I'm sorry if the narrative offended you in any way, obviously, this wasn't my intention. I kept your message in my inbox for quite some time as well, as I wanted to get my thoughts together before responding, so I also do apologise for the delay.

I want to state at the outset that the timing you are highlighting (i.e. the coinciding of the war + Covid) was a total accident on my part, and something that hadn't at all occurred to me before. I will admit that this is totally on me, and a blindspot. I can see how both things can seem like they're "piling on" to China/Chinese people (esp. with the Covid-related anti-Chinese sentiment you are referring to), and I'm really sorry about that. To tell you the truth, my initial plan was not to include Covid in castles at all. I was going to have some sort of wizard fix to it because when I started writing this fic, I wrote it as a Covid lockdown project and as an escape from Covid, so I didn't want to have to write about Covid on top of it.

I changed this last minute because, by the time I actually got to writing that part of the story (which was four years later), it felt like the world had been irredeemably changed by our experiences of the pandemic and I didn't want to go into "speculative" fiction about what the world would have been like without Covid. Castles was always meant to depict our world as it is, and so this wouldn't have fit the overall themes of the narrative. This is why Covid was mentioned and acknowledged in text, but as thing for Muggles to deal with, and not affecting wizards (beyond the awkwardness of having to obey the shelter-in-place orders). I will admit I sort of wrote this story "forgetting" that Covid existed, and so that sense of "piling it on" didn't occur to me. I can see now how that could have felt different as a Chinese person, and I'm really sorry.

I also want to reiterate at the outset why/how I picked China/Mongolia for this fictional conflict, because I think that's important context. I have already explained this on different occasions but I understand people may not have read everything I've ever posted on this Tumblr (fair!) so apologies if this is repeating something you already know.

The Lily-going-to-war story occurred to me as the main plot point (and denouement) of castles when I was about 1/3 done with writing it already. Then, as I progressed into the story over the next few years, I spent a lot of time (almost right up until actually sitting down to write the end) toying back and forth between 1) using a real ongoing conflict in our world and exploring its magical ramifications (i.e. writing about Lily "going to war" somewhere like Ukraine or Gaza) or 2) creating a fictional conflict. In the end, I landed on a fictional conflict for reasons I exposed in the notes:

When I decided to go fictional, I did briefly consider just making up a country/conflict. Something like: "In the magical Kingdom of FarFarLand, the dictator MrBad..." etc. The issue with that was that, as appealing and non-controversial as it would have been for me (and I would not have been getting angry anons about it), this just didn't fit the spirit of the story.

Castles is a story that has been very dedicated, since the beginning, to exploring real-world political events and conflicts (Iraq, the 2008 financial crisis, etc.). Ending this incredibly important story with Lily going through a FarFarLand scenario felt - to me, at least - cheap and cowardly, and like a disservice to a story that so far, had been very engaged and outright politically.

So, I started looking into writing about 1) a real region of the world that suited a somewhat tense border/ethnic/colonial situation but without it being an outright, ongoing conflict, and 2) something I could then extrapolate into a magical conflict that suited my idea of the narrative (Lily going to war, coming back, etc.). Crucially, I was also facing two adjacent issues:

this situation would have to be one readers could understand and map out fast as I only had a couple of chapters to really set it up

I was not going to be able to explore this war "on the ground" due to my restrictions with being "stuck" in Harry's point of view.

As such, I needed something that sounded "familiar," to readers, and a situation they would be able to liken to conflicts they may have heard about in the past.

For this reason, I obviously didn't pick China by accident either. I'll readily admit that, and I don't think it's engaging in anti-Chinese sentiment to say that. The Chinese government, as it exists today, is an authoritarian government. I understand this may not be everyone's opinion, and I'm not trying to convince anyone here - that is not the purpose of this post - but it is mine. I picked the situation in Mongolia because whilst there are no actual tensions in Mongolia/Inner Mongolia at the moment, there have been in the past, and I also trusted my readership to know that the Chinese government has a History of brutally repressing civilian populations in the very recent past, so this conflict wouldn't be too far-fetched. Again, I needed something that would be believable fast, considering the above narrative requirements. I was actually not thinking of Hong Kong whilst writing this (although, in hindsight, it's a fair point), I was thinking of Tibet, and of the Uyghurs. I knew, picking China, that I wasn't fighting an uphill battle, in terms of believability, and that was what I wanted.

It's true that I could have picked other countries. I could have picked Russia, I could have picked Israel, etc. but all of these carried the same problems when it came to the racism you're calling out. You would have cared less if it were Russia because you're not Russian, but I would have had similar anons from Russians coming my way. The issue is the chicken and egg situation of: a government is authoritarian and brutal, therefore it is demonised in the western press, therefore there it creates racist sentiment, etc. If I was going to pick any real country that fit my bill here, I was going to offend someone one way or another. The only way I didn't offend anyone was by picking a random country like Switzerland to have a war in, but then I had an uphill battle to fight in terms of believability, and so either way, I was screwed. I am not saying this to be like "woe is me, poor white writers can't write anything anymore," I'm only saying it to explain that choices had to be made, and I knew going into this I was going to make some people unhappy, and I chose to make Chinese people unhappy because that is what suited me and my narrative arc moving forwards. To the extent that I've offended people doing this, I do apologise. It was just the least inconvenient of inconvenient solutions.

Having said all of the above, the reason why I'm also taking so much time/care in answering this anon is that I think it denotes something very interesting about reader and reader behaviour (especially on the left) these days. If I'm reading your message correctly, anon, your issue doesn't actually seem to be my choosing of a Chinese setting for this conflict, but more the fact that my narrative sort of bulked "the Chinese" and the Chinese government altogether as one, negative, murderous force. And, if I'm correct in the fact that this is your issue, let me state this very clearly:

If you have read castles in full - all 406,000 words of it - and you come out thinking: pebblysand believes that in every conflict, all individual elements of a population behave the same way and with a same understanding of said conflict, and are equally guilty of atrocities, you either...

are being intentionally intellectually dishonest

are lacking basic reading comprehension skills

want every piece of media you consume to be Glee (more on this later)

I don't mean this as a personal attack, just as an observation that actually goes beyond this anon, this fic, or this matter. You claim you are "tired" of the anti-Chinese sentiment, you're seeing around the world. Again, this is totally valid, regrettable, and I totally does exist - I really am sorry about this. But, I am personally tired of people who consume media and refuse to look at context. Especially, in-text context. I'm not asking you to go through the entire history of my tumblr posts to dissect my political views and know that I have taken many anti-racist stances in the past, I am asking you to look at the actual text I've written. Because the whole Point of castles, which is heavily repeated and dissected over and over again for over 1,000 pages and 400,000+ words (which, btw, is OOTP and HBP combined) is that everything exists in shades of grey. I could not have been more obvious or explicit about that if I had tried. It is wild to me that after reading all of that someone would come out and think for one second that I assume all Chinese people are the same murderous cunts.

First of all, in text, the narrative is very clear that "the Chinese" refers to the military and the government, rather than the wider population. The wider population is generally left unaddressed, but I do not once expressly suggest that all Chinese people agree with this. You are inferring that fact from silence. The problem is: silence exists in context. If this story about China had emerged in a narrative vacuum, if we hadn't been through the trials, Iraq, the lawsuit, etc. then that would have been a valid interpretation. But that is not the case. The question of redemption, subtlety, rebellion, the grey morals of some populations just "going along," etc. - all of that is repeatedly, heavily layered and explored throughout castles. The point of mastering reading comprehension is to later understand that principles previously established in the story also apply to future plot points without having to be explicitly repeated each time.

Especially because by the time we get to China, that understanding of human "greyness" is no longer the point of the story. That's been hashed out. Lily's return to war, and the Mongolia plot, is a narrative device meant to show something else entirely. It is meant to show the generational impact of war and trauma, the recurring nature of conflict and the resilience of human populations - whatever you want to call it. It is not meant to be a thorough study of a fake conflict in China. We do not go there. We do not explore the subtleties of it. This is even more so the case because Harry does not go there. Again, that is not the point of the narrative. The point of this narrative is Lily and Harry and the recurrence of similar situations. I'm sure some Chinese people on the ground helped Lily at certain points. Of course, they did. That is Not The Point.

To take a canon example of this, this is somewhat the same issue as the people who complain about Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione ending up together as being "unrealistic" because they all marry their high school sweetheart. Again, it's not about who ends up with who. That doesn't matter. JKR's decision to write the epilogue the way she did is a narrative device. We are in the context of a coming of age story, and the couples are a symbol of all-ends-that-ends-well. As was pointed out very intelligently a long time ago, you do not get the same narrative effect if Harry randomly shows up to King's Cross with his random wife Sheila. (Although, you do get a pretty good alternative story.)

Now, having said that, I do get that me - a white writer in the safety of my own home - saying that a war involving your country is a "narrative device" and "not the point" of the story can feel at best insensitive, and at worst downright offensive. I think this is where we get into the same territory as this post about Iraq from a few years ago. As I explained on there, unfortunately, we all have specific issues that we feel very strongly about, that are no-laughing-matters to us, and that we want addressed with a lot of nuance and subtlety. I have my own as well. But, the issue with insisting that all issues be the point of everything, is that you arrive in a Glee-like situation (I told you we were going to get there eventually!) where the narrative has to be about 1) every single issue on the planet and 2) thoroughly explicit and heavy-handedly woke about handling every single issue on the planet sensitively.

Realistically, in order to include the point of view and variety of Chinese people in castles, I would have had to:

take Harry to Mongolia (which was not going to happen), OR

shoehorn some sort of situation with a Chinese person in England showing the "not all Chinese people are evil", OR

shoehorn a story that Lily would have told Harry about some Chinese person helping her at some point

And, while that may have placated your concerns, I honestly don't think this would have served the narrative. Because, again, all of that greyness is pre-established and stating it once more with that degree of specificity would have been redundant. It would have been me covering my bases being like "please don't come at me, I promise I know you're not all bad" but without additional value. Because, again, it wasn't relevant to the narrative, that wasn't the question being asked. And, mea culpa, I did a lot of that in castles. This is something I've since reflected on, especially as I write my current WIP. I got so used to being screamed at by anons about everything that wasn't explicitly mentioned in the narrative and was thus being interpreted in bad faith, that I over-explained and over-layered everything to death. I didn't do that with Mongolia because I think I was a bit done with the story, tbh, but I did it for many other things. This fic didn't need to be that long, and wouldn't have been if I hadn't been so keen on Glee-cising everything by proving that I knew shit was complex.

Fundamentally, while I agree with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie that a book does not have to be about one thing, but I also don't think it has to be about everything. I could have written a very subtle, thorough fic about Lily going to war in Mongolia with her as the main protagonist, but that would have been different book. The narrative in castles however, was a short narrative, meant to set up something else (i.e. the recurrence of war, and her return) and so it was shaped to that effect. Again, I didn't have another 100,000 words to spend on re-exploring themes that had already been explored. I trust my readers, 370,000 words in, to know that I know things are subtle and that I don't hate all Chinese people.

Having said all of this, I will finish with two things. One, as I've said before, if I had to write this story again, I'd have this conflict set in the US. I finished castles in the summer of 2024 when things were looking on the up for Kamala, but knowing what I know now, having a magical conflict off the back of the Trump election set in the US would have been such a good story it makes me mad I couldn't write it. But, alas.

And, two, we may go back to Mongolia with Aoife in my current WIP and should be on the ground there, which will be less constraining in terms of POV and allow me to explore what the ground situation is like more and demonstrate a bit more subtlety. I don't know what that will look like yet so I don't want to make any promises, but if that's something you're interested in reading, stay tuned.

Finally, in tl;dr, I will say this. Firstly, expressing/falling into anti-Chinese sentiment with this narrative was definitely not my intention, though I understand how it could be perceived that way, and for that I really am sorry. Secondly, I understand that these types of narratives can be very offensive to marginalised groups in general, and I've tried throughout my work to show that. If I did not do that sufficiently, again, I am sorry. Thirdly, though, I do think we should be looking at works within their general contexts rather than cherry picking issues we specifically care about within them, which I think is a growing, slightly problematic trend at the moment. Give your writers grace, especially if they clearly trying to do things right overall.

[impishtubist]

happy birthday, krabapple <3

Your fics have brought me such joy since the LiveJournal days, so here, I knocked up Remus for you. I hope you have a great rest of your day <3 @lizlemonbennet

(many thanks to the discord for doing a plot spitballing session with me many many moons ago regarding remus getting pregnant and his students being mad about it, y'all are the real mvps. also I hope someone writes the 100K version of this someday.)

---

At first, Harry didn’t bat an eye at the owls that swept in periodically throughout breakfast that morning, dropping off letters for Sirius before flying off again. Out of everyone in the household, Sirius got the most correspondence, and it wasn’t unusual for there to be a flurry of owls in their home for the first few hours of the morning. 

He did take notice when the pile grew to be twenty letters, and then thirty. Even more noticeable, Sirius wasn’t even opening them. 

“Er, Sirius,” he said, after the fortieth owl swept in and then out again. “You didn’t get voted Sexiest Wizard Alive again, did you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” Sirius said, giving him a smile that was only slightly strained. “That contest isn’t until May.”

“Do you have another fan club?” Teddy asked.

“No.” 

“Okay,” Harry said, “then why aren’t you opening your mail?”

“I want to enjoy breakfast with my boys!” Sirius said, though the cheer in his voice sounded slightly forced. “It’s your first day home from school. I can read the mail later.” 

“Isn’t that Hermione’s handwriting?” Teddy piped up, pointing at a letter near the top of the pile. Before he could stop himself, Harry snatched it up, his Seeker’s reflexes outwitting Sirius’s. 

“Dear Lord Black,” he read out loud, fending off Sirius’s attempts to grab the letter with one hand, “I am incredibly disappointed to learn that Professor Lupin will be unable to teach for the rest of the school year--and, most importantly, will be unable to oversee our NEWTs--thanks to your actions, and I hope that you take this into consideration in the future should you decide to procreate again…”

Harry wrinkled his nose and tossed the letter at Sirius. “Gross, Sirius.” 

“I didn’t write the letter! Take it up with Hermione.”

“Are they all like that?”

“At least there aren’t any Howlers this time,” Sirius said, slumping back in his chair. “I’ve been getting them for days, ever since Remus announced his pregnancy and his intention to take a leave of absence starting at the holidays. Your classmates are very upset.”

“Your timing could have been better,” Harry said. “In more ways than one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Sirius.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Remus is almost five months, yeah? You know what else was almost five months ago? My birthday. You two are gross and I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” Sirius got up for more coffee. As he passed behind Harry and Teddy, he kissed them both on top of the head. “Your friends do, though.” 

“It is your fault their favorite and most competent professor is out of commission for the rest of the year.”

“I will personally write every single OWL and NEWT student a glowing letter of recommendation. No matter what their scores are this year while Professor Lupin is on sabbatical, they will have their pick of jobs after graduation. Happy?” 

“That includes us, right?”

“Yes, of course it does.”

Harry stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

Sirius shook his hand, and then Teddy’s, and at that moment Remus came into the kitchen. He had stopped being able to fit into his own clothes, and was now stealing Sirius’s sweaters and joggers. Those wouldn’t do for much longer, Harry thought, but figured that was a battle his guardians could fight on their own.

“Oh, dear,” Remus said, spotting the pile of letters. Several had fallen to the floor. “That’s…”

“At least a quarter of the student body,” Sirius said. 

“I’m sorry, love.” 

“As your eldest has so helpfully pointed out, it is all my fault.”

“Well,” Remus said with a wink, “not all your fault.”

“Right!” Harry said, standing abruptly. “I’m off! Come on, Teds. Let’s get out of here before they get more disgusting.”

[stuffnonsenseandotherthings]

July has been a month of ups and downs in that there have been some truly excellent shows for me to watch but there have also been plenty of let downs. It's also been a month where I've had more free time than usual thanks to my being on holiday and I've definitely taken advantage of that to cram in as many dramas as I mentally and physically can.

Anyway here's a song for the month (perhaps I listened to it so much to trick my brain into believing it's summer despite the constant rain) and let's get started!

4Minutes 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨 [1/8]

What a strong start. I am seated and fully on board with wherever this drama wants to take me next. Something I really loved was how the first episode opened up so many questions with regards to various characters and their motivations and didn't just bank on the central plot device to build the intrigue (although there's plenty of intrigue there as well, and quite possibly already some answers). Yes I want to know about the seeing the future thing, obviously, but I also want to know about Great's relationship with his family, what kind of person Korn actually is, and why Tyme seems 5 kinds of jaded despite still being early in his career.

Battle of the Writers 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨 [1/12]

This one.... I'm not sure about. Its selling point was (and still is) that it's fulfilling my wish to see Tutor and Yim as leads and, in that, it's doing very well indeed. But, I'm not going to lie, the only reason it's here instead of in the "dropped" pile is because I try to give every show 2 episodes before making a decision. It's not that there's anything wrong with it (it genuinely seems like a perfectly good show judging by the first episode) but I just don't think it's something that's going to be able to hold my interest and make me want to make the time I need to watch it.

Century of Love 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨 [3/10]

I took a break from this one but I'm fully planning to catch up! I was enjoying it but I wasn't in the right head space for it at the time. I am now though so I'm going to rewatch the first 3 episodes and then hopefully be caught up in time for the last episode.

Knock Knock Boys 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨 [10/12]

I am very attached to all the residents of the Knock Knock house but especially Latte, I 100% buy that he has no problems finding partners because he won my heart too. I also really like his and Almond's storyline, not just the romance (although that is very cute) but the things that built that romance up; the intimacy group, their friendship with Shawn and Jumper, their friendship, the careful handling of the hidden camera story arc... Some really good writing all around there. I'm a little less sold on Thamwa and Peak (despite them being the older characters their storyline feels less mature if that makes sense?) but I'm still enjoying them immensely.

Midnight Romance in Hagwon 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👨 [1/16]

I needed to take some time before I started watching this because I knew it was going to be such a rich watch. One episode in and it was already like eating a 3 course meal, there was so much to unpack and I am loving it. I know from @lurkingshan that this drama focuses much more on the education/Hagwon system than the titular romance and I also know that's not for everyone but, as someone who has a professional interest in the education system, that's more than okay with me and I'm curious to see what conclusions it comes to.

My Sweet Mobster 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👨 [14/16]

I'm really loving the main message of the show (restoration not perpetual punishment) and the vibrancy of the characters. The ex-cons are so much fun and the found family they make together is adorable and hilarious in equal measure. The central romance is pretty adorable too with the gruff-softie/feisty-with+heart combo, although it is probably the thing I'm least invested in as it's quite typical for a k-drama romance (I actually think I prefer the second couple thanks to their social taboo breaking). Overall it's been a fun ride and I'm going to miss it when it's done, I'd also definitely recommend it to anyone who enjoyed A Business Proposal (it gives off very similar vibes).

Sweet Home S3 🇰🇷 (👩‍❤️‍👨) [2/8]

I don't think any of the proceeding seasons could ever have hoped to live up to the masterpiece that was season 1, but, to be fair, I never expected them to. What made S1 outstanding was it's confined and cramped setting and how that was then used to explore the complexity of social relationships through the lens of monsters vs survivors. Once they left the apartment complex and opened up the world, they were never going to be able to maintain that in quite the same wau. Still, I'm enjoying S3 for what it is and I think it's going to be a good conclusion to the series.

The Trainee 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨 [5/10]

This. Show. Is. Fantastic. It's the first time in a long time I've seen a drama treat the workplace seriously and not just as set dressing and so far it has hit all the right beats. Characters, comedy, themes, relationships, plots and subplots? All on point so far and developing so nicely in a well paced slow burn that it's obvious to me how much thought and care went into making this show. Also Gun is in equal measures cute, funny and relatable as Ryan and Jane is definitely Off's best and most crush-worthy character to date (which is great because that leaves Ink for me).

Lovestruck in the City 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👨

Lovestruck in the City was an incredibly ambitious drama, both in terms of its format (a semi-docu interview style mixed with a lot of flashbacks) and its central theme (an exploration of modern relationships, especially those coming to or after their end). I really wasn't expecting it and to say I was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement. However what started off as its strengths in the first half ended up becoming its weaknesses in the second; it wanted be and say too many things all at once and in the end what was innovative about it got lost in its attempts to still fit the typical romance k-drama mold.

⭐ rating: 7/10

Moonlit Winter 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👩📽️

I don't know how to describe this film other than quiet but with a lot to say. It doesn't shrink away from the harsh realities of growing up, falling in love and living in a society where part of who you are is treated like something dirty and the lasting trauma that inflicts, but it also offers solace and comfort and a quiet hope for healing and change. It broke my heart and healed it in so many ways and I'm going to be thinking about it for a long time to come and recommending it to whoever will listen.

⭐ rating: 8.5/10

I should start by saying that I drop dramas quite often and for a variety of reasons. I don't have to be not enjoying a show to drop it, I just have to not be enjoying it enough. This means that there are plenty of dramas in my dropped pile that I think are perfectly decent shows but which, at the same time, didn't pull me in enough within the first few episodes.

Love Sea 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👩 [On Hold]

I thought Rak and Mut's storyline was great and I genuinely enjoyed their dynamic, even more so with all the meta around it. The very fact that this is "on hold" rather than straight up "dropped" is a testament to how much I am still taken with them. Unfortunately, however, Vi and Mook made me want to put my head through a wall every time they were on screen together and I couldn't, for my own sanity, keep watching a show where I was skipping half of each episode in a desperate attempt to escape even a glimpse of their scenes.

Red Swan 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👨 [Dropped]

I think I got to episode 3 or 4? It was very fast paced and there was plenty of intrigue and family plotting to keep me on my toes, which I did appreciate. It also did a great job of making me feel like something was actually at stake and that the protagonists weren't always going to win, which is pretty rare. Ultimately though, I have a lot of other dramas that I like a lot more and which are more to my taste in terms of genre and subject matter, so Red Swan gets the boot. I would consider picking it up again later though.

Serendipity's Embrace 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👨 [Dropped]

I found the first episode of this surprisingly boring, so much so that I spent a lot of it flicking through the news on my phone and didn't even consider watching the second. I'm glad that Chae Jeong Hyeop seems to be making a name for himself though. I really liked him in Love All Play and Castaway Diva (both of which I stuck with for longer than I normally would have for him btw), I guess now my hope is he gets some dramas that aren't quite so.... Middling.

Sunset X Vibes 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨 [Dropped]

This is so very much not my style and I knew that going in but I was briefly led astray by how beautiful Bank and his outfits were.

Wandee Goodday 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨 [Dropped]

I'm not going to go into loads of details because I've spoken enough about my feelings towards this drama. All I'm going to say is that it's the one that hurts the most to put here because I had such high hopes going into it. On the plus side, it's given me an OST to add to my playlist and 2 pairings I would quite like to see again.

Things have been relatively quiet on the K-dramas side of things these past few months but it finally looks like there's a number I'm looking forward to for August! Looks like I'm still going to have to wait for a K-BL to watch, however, I think the last one I watched was Love for Love's Sake and that was a depressingly long time ago now.

Monster Next Door 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨 [Aug 8] ⭐

Romance in the House 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👨 [Aug 10]

Love Next Door 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👨 [Aug 17 ] ⭐ (being introduced to Jung Hae In through Something in the Rain means I am now automatically excited whenever he's in a drama).

The Paradise of Thorns 🇹🇭👨‍❤️‍👨 [Aug 22] ⭐

Cinderella at 2am 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👨 [Aug 24] ⭐ (Shin Hyun Been is also an automatic watch)

No Gain, No Love 🇰🇷👩‍❤️‍👨 [Aug 26]

I'm always open to recommendations so if there's an upcoming drama you think I might like, please let me know! Doubly appreciated if they're JBLs because I really want to break the stupid block I have with them.

[th3mrskory]

Hello my dear! I saw your lovely q&a post about this lovely series. I have a few questions if you'll answer them, but feel free to skip over anything you're not into.

1. Why exactly did you choose this version of Logan, and this time frame? I truly love this version of him, it feels so correct and beautiful, as if Origins was written well and they covered this space of time.

2. What is the inspiration for our lovely Evelyn? Are you pulling from some personal experience, be it yourself or someone you know? Or maybe a different character you love from another media?

3. Will you continue to share your writing after this story is done? I remember seeing your posts before you started uploading the series, and how it was your first time sharing your writing with the internet. I'd truly love to see what else you'd like to share! You're genuinely such an amazing writer.

Thank you for this beautiful story, and I can't wait to see the rest of it! <3

Hello there, anon!

First of all—thank you! Seriously. I can’t tell you how much it means to hear that you’re enjoying the series and that you get what I’m doing with it. Now, onto your questions:

1. Why this version of Logan and this time frame? Oh, because I have taste. Kidding (but not really). I love this version of Logan. I love a rugged man. And him as a lumberjack? Swoons. This is peak Logan—fluffy, glorious hair, plaid shirts, that rough-around-the-edges, slightly unhinged but still heartbreakingly loyal energy. One of my favorite versions of him.

As for the time period, I decided to follow the movie’s timeline, so 1979 it is. It just fits—Logan trying to disappear into the woods, running from everything and everyone (classic). Plus, I love the aesthetic. No smartphones, just vibes, bad decisions, and unresolved trauma.

2. Evelyn’s inspiration?

In the beginning, she was loosely based on me (minus the trauma, obviously). But as the drafts started piling up and the plot started developing, it made sense for her to take on a life of her own. I knew I wanted her to be someone who could stand next to Logan, not behind him. Someone with her own weight to carry but not just another tragic, brooding character. She’s tough, but it’s not performative—she just is.

A lot of her came from instinct. I let her evolve as the story did, and at some point, she wasn’t me anymore—she was just her. A mix of things I admire, things I relate to, and maybe a little of what I wish I saw more of in female leads.

3. Will I keep sharing my writing?

First of all, thank you for the kind words and for inflating my ego—I’ll be floating off into the stratosphere now. Second, yes, I’ll absolutely continue posting my fics here.

At first, I wasn’t sure if anyone would even be interested in reading my work, but sure enough, it started gaining traction, and here we are. Right now, I’m working on two other fics:

Whiskey and Sin – Logan as a dangerous club owner, Y/N as a bartender. High-stakes, dark romance, the kind that makes you question your morals a little.

Lessons in Desire – Set in the early 2000s, Y/N is Logan’s teaching assistant. Forbidden tension, intellectual battles, and an undercurrent of something neither of them wants to name.

Both are coming… idk when, but they’re coming!

Also, my Google Docs is an absolute disaster zone. Just a mess of blurbs, half-written fics, and ideas dying to see the light of day. I even have a bunch of old Tony Stark fics that I could probably adapt if the inspiration hits. So yeah, I’m not going anywhere—plenty more to come!

Again, thank you for this ask—it genuinely made my day. Hope you enjoy the rest of the series and the future works! <3

[elwenyere]

2, 19, 20 for the end of year meme? 💖

Thank you very much for the asks, Serie!!! Questions are from this end-of-year ask meme.

2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

This was probably the most research-heavy year of fics that I've written yet (including four non-contemporary historical settings and a few geographic locations I haven't visited). One story that included both a good deal of research and some stylistic experimentation is However Stern and Iron, my Steve/Tony fic inspired by Elizabeth Gaskell's novel North and South. I wanted to try evoking Victorian storytelling not only in the period details and the shape of the plot but also in the mode of narration I used. It felt like a tricky balance to strike (giving the fic a period flavor without losing the voices of the characters or slipping into stylistic parody), but I came to enjoy the ways it stretched me.

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Thank you for giving me the chance to do another one of these. <3 One of my favorite things to write is an argument, and here's one of my favorites from Hypnagogia:

He bides his time, waiting until he and Arthur are both back at his guesthouse to press the point that’s been building like a cluster headache at the base of his skull. “Striker's agreement,” he says. “It was with Cobb, wasn’t it? That’s why you keep refusing to call off the job.” “It doesn’t matter who the agreement was with.” Arthur’s voice is even, but it sounds scraped-out underneath, like a bridge that’s had its piles carried away by the current. “What matters is that I’ve said I’ll do it, and I’m going to do it.” “As a rush job with a green forger and a mutinous architect.” “Minks is just being Minks,” Arthur says. “And Mariana’s ready.” “You’ve been awfully quick to that conclusion.” “And you’ve been dragging your feet, even though you’re the one who brought her in. You recommended her, you trained her, and I’m saying she can do the job. Why is that a problem?” “I recommended her because you would have done the job with bloody Johanssen otherwise. An absolute bellend. You’d have ended up fifty feet deep feeding barnacles in the reefs.” “I’m glad to know you think so highly of my competence.” “Your competence isn’t the issue here, and you know that.” “Look, Eames, I don’t know what you want from me. I’m just trying to finish the job.” “That’s the issue,” Eames says. “That’s what I want from you. I want to know what it would take. What would have to happen to make you walk away? To leave the work to someone else?” Eames pauses, hearing a note in his own voice that sounds the wrong side of urgent. His chest aches suddenly, like he’s just come up short on a final sprint, and he has to resist the urge to massage at a dull pain around his breastbone. “You’re the one who won’t drop the shop talk,” Arthur says, “when we could have been fucking ten minutes ago.”

20. Share your funniest line

A great delight and challenge in writing Xedgin for the first time in Should the Way Become Too Dim was doing comedic group scenes, which I haven't written in a while. With apologies for quoting another lengthy section, here's an exchange that tickled me personally:

“Hey.” Holga pointed a half-eaten potato spear at him. “Stop being pissy.” “I’m not being pissy,” Edgin said, pissily.  “Yes you are. You’ve been pissy ever since you didn’t get to hold hands with Xenk in the caves.” Edgin’s train of thought sputtered momentarily to a stop, a facial muscle around his left eye twitching like a cornered prey animal, and then he recovered his dignity: recovered it so quickly and smoothly he could hardly be said to have lost it at all. He turned his shoulders toward Holga to convey the full weight of his contempt at her suggestion - and perhaps to avoid acknowledging the way Simon was choking on his beer. “If I’m pissy about the caves,” he said, “it’s because you could have broken down the door the whole time, and instead we stood around exchanging our birthdays and addresses like we were coordinating social calendars. The truth is I couldn’t be more delighted that we didn’t all have to hold hands -” “Dad, why don’t you want to hold Xenk’s hand?” Kira interjected. She widened her eyes innocently as she said it: a ruse that under other circumstances Edgin would have been proud to say she’d picked up from him. “I don’t care about holding Xenk’s hand,” Edgin said. “I don’t think about Xenk’s hand either way -” “What about my hand?” Xenk asked, and Edgin did not jump: he was a seasoned thief and a sometime Harper, and he had the situational awareness of a hawk.  “Edgin either did or didn’t want to hold it,” Doric replied, sliding the ale they’d ordered for Xenk his way as he sat down to join them. “We’re still trying to get to the bottom of it.” “I am entirely neutral on the subject of hands,” Edgin objected. “Xenk’s or otherwise.” “Hmm,” Simon hummed. “You don’t sound all that neutral, to be honest.” “Oh my aged Lord of Neverwinter,” Edgin muttered. “What do you people need, a signed affidavit? Does anyone have another sacred text for me to swear oaths on?” “We could bet on it,” Holga suggested.

Thank you very much for the asks, my friend!!! This was a treat.

[belaephemeral]

a little update :)

Hi everyone! This is a late update but something I've been meaning to share for a while.

So I haven't been writing for a while and that's because I had stopped during a point where I was going through a lot in my personal life. I'm so sorry to have subjected you to my writing during that time since I wasn't my best and I had my first uni exams ;-; overall, I was glad to even have gotten past that time in my life but a lot of things started piling up from there on.

During the Summer, I had planned to finish "It's no coincidence, it's a kitty-incidence" but I was juggling many things. I had a legal internship at a prestigious firm (I became a corporate girlie and slave haha), I had to handle family problems and get rid of my toxic friend group, apply for vacation schemes and mini-pupillages, and I am helping to lead a law conference for my university society. I hope you can understand I wasn't in the right place mentally to write stories. Such stories that mean so much to me if you are able to feel a fraction of the warmth and the love that I dedicate and place into them. Thus, I didn't write so that you wouldn't have to be subject to anything sub-par.

I'm a bit (actually a lot) of a perfectionist; this is both a benefit and a flaw. It started being a problem for my writing when I used to get palpitations and anxiety whenever I posted a new piece. I guess it's something that was self-imposed but I didn't want my oneshots to be less than perfect. Because of this, I kept scrapping drafts and rethinking pre-established plots. I would love to continue writing but i need to understand when to stop putting myself down just because I think something won't get a good reception.

All in all, this isn't to say that I will stop writing but my writing might take some time to come out.

Moreover, I'm so appreciative that I've hit 100 followers! One thing that really put me off was the onslaught of bots following my page so to see that you genuinely like my writing and would like to see me flourish is super encouraging <3 Thank you to everyone and if I was able to touch you with my stories, I am so grateful that I was able to.

I might do something special to celebrate this milestone so let me know if you have any ideas!

Thank you once again for enjoying my little stories!

[bugeater101]

Truth or Dare?, pt. 1

Synopsis: Minho and you played a game of Truth or Dare, and when you don't comply with the rules and refuse to obey your orders as a loser, you must face the consequences.

Content: SMUT !!!! slkfsdlkjf anyways. sub!reader x dom!Minho, fem!reader, perv!minho, best friends to lovers, school au, mentions of weed, mentions of masturbation (f. and m.), discussion of dick size, sex toys, Minho's an ass man (and i stand by that!!!!), panty sniffing, as always the reader is curvy/plus size but it doesn't really play into the plot but Minho's super hot for her obviously, suggestive content, slight fluff if you squint ig.

Word Count: 6.8k

Author's notes: I've been playing with this idea for a while and I'm so excited to finally put pen to paper! I hope you enjoy this mini series (should only be 2/3 parts, depending on how long I decide to make them) and they will be all out fairly shortly since I intend to release them a day after another. Even though the characters in this fic are portraying students, it is just like my Han fic, Public Display of Affection. Meaning that both characters are 18+. Please, do not interact with my work if you are a minor. Thank you everyone and enjoy!

Edit: Originally, when leeknow's... size was discussed, it was wayyyy too big. So I have (sadly) shrunk him a bit. The story does not change at all other than that detail!

Taglist: @scribblemetae, @mygsis, @9900z, @taekbokki

part 1, part 2, part 3

"Truth or dare?" Minho questioned as he undid his tie, freeing himself from his school uniform

"Hmmm... truth!" you answered, leaning your head on your hand that was supported by a layer of forgotten homework on the table below.

"What's your opinion on Mr. Nam?" Minho questioned, making you squeal with laughter and make him laugh too.

"Oh my God!" You hollered as you fell back, laying on the ground in fits of giggles as Minho clapped. The secrets and rumours surrounding Mr. Nam made him a living legend, a feared yet benevolent dictator at your school. You sat up and cleared your throat, containing yourself as you cleaned some of the work that you had scattered off your table.

"He's a total snob, and I do believe the rumour that he's gay and called off his engagement to elope with the former Phys. Ed. coach," you responded, finally answering his question.

"No way!" Minho shouted back, amused at your response. "Not possible! I total believe the one that he got the former drama teacher pregnant but that it turned out to be a hysterical pregnancy because she wanted him to leave his fucking wife." You snickered at his assertion, loving how he entertained the beloved "Nam Theories" just as much as you did.

"Good for her. I always respect a woman who knows what she wants," you remarked with satire in your tone. With a nod to your homework, you silently suggested to Minho to return to the task at hand. The schoolwork had piled up throughout the week, waiting for you two to try and tackle it all in one day as you usually did. You too always did schoolwork at your house after Thursdays, shut away in your bedroom and attempting to diminish the growing pile of work before the weekend began.

Throughout the years of friendship between you two, your bedroom had become a safe haven for Minho, adorned in memories you two had gathered throughout your years of schooling and bathed in sunlight that pour in from your skylight and west-facing windows. Minho also just liked being close to you in general, watching you giggle at his jokes, toppling over at the melodramatic responses he gave and giving him a chance to sneak a peak up your skirt or down your shirt.

Okay, yeah. There's that.

So he had a crush on you. Big deal. Everyone in the school did. He loved how your personality reflected his mischievous ways and adored the way you smiled at everything he said, yet remained stone-faced with everyone else. Plus, you were obviously well-endowed to the point that the school uniform didn't fit you as conservatively as it should have, but you didn't mind (or you chose not to notice). You two had other friends but were just closer with each other, which was how Minho liked it, especially when he got to be in your room with you exclusively once a week; it was a gift. Sometimes, you two played games to distract from the mountainous pile of work, like today. Other times, too even cuddled together while watching a movie to finish the evening off. He enjoyed holding you, having you play with your hair, your tits pressing against his arm, your thighs crushing his hands to keep them warm, and... God... your ass was just perfect.

He loved when you laughed like this now, cackling and bending over from fits of giggles, giving him the perfect opportunity to stare at your pretty body. Now, however, you wanted to stop playing games and get back to work, which was never fun in Minho's opinion. It was sometimes annoying that you were always the more diligent one of the two of you, even though you always kept him on track.

"Booooo," Minho pouted, laying his face on the coffee table that you used to study on. He kicked you under the table as you both sat on the floor, nudging you and making you smack him back. "C'mon! Let's keep playing! It's your turn!" He protested.

"No, Minho," you scorned him. "We have this test next week and we have to study for it."

"Please, God, no, kill me now," he cried out, burying his face in the workload. "C'mon, please?! We can make it interesting?" You stopped scribbling on your work and silence filled the room. Minho smirked: you could never resist a good bet.

"...What kind of bet are you thinking of?" You responded, not lifting your face from the work.

"Oh, so now you want to play," Minho mused, sitting up and leaning against the wall behind him.

"Shut up and set the rules," you groaned at him, tossing a pen at his chest and grabbing a new writing utensil.

"Ah! Christ, okay," he laughed, blocking the pen with his forearms. "Hmm let's see..." he leaned his head back and thought to the annoying tapping of your pencil.

"Ooh! I got it!" He shouted, making you jump. A maniacal smile spread across his face as he rubbed his hands like an evil mastermind.

"Why do I feel like I made a dumb decision," you pondered out loud, sighing at his ridiculousness. Minho cleared his throat, pretending as if he was making a huge announcement to an anxious crowd rather than to the singular annoyed you.

"This round of truth or dare will be like no other! The questions will be aggressive, dangerous, and downright inappropriate for any normal game," he mimicked a posh accent, acting as if he was speaking some royal decree into effect, "Additionally, this game will have raised stakes! If one refuses to answer the question of truth or do the dare, that individual will be forced to do anything that the victor— i.e. the person who gave them the request—demands of them. And, the loser will do it without question. If the loser refuses or does not comply, the victor gets to punish them any way they deem fit."

You thought for a moment about the terms of the agreement, crossing your arms at Minho's proposition.

"Anything I want you to do, you'll have to do it?" You questioned.

"Precisely," Minho nodded. You blew some air out before looking back at him.

"What did you mean by 'punish the loser any way they deem fit?'" You raised your eyebrows, concerned about that portion of the rules.

Minho shrugged, "I dunno. It could be anything, like a horrible prank or even spreading a rumour about the loser or something. Anything you set your mind to."

You shivered slightly. What would such a punishment resemble? However, the idea of winning and making Minho do something so embarrassing—or something even worse if he was defiant against you—was too sweet.

You shrugged. "Fuck it." You stuck your hand out and Minho reached out to grab it and gave it a firm shake. "I've been wanting to start a rumour anyways that Mr. Nam was having an affair with you. This will be a great opportunity."

"Wait, what?" Minho looked taken back as he released your hand, making you giggle.

"Don't worry, I'll be incredibly benevolent as a victor. The rumour will say you ended it."

"You forget that I will reign triumphant," Minho retorted, making you snort.

"In your dreams," you sneered back. "Anyways," you leaned on your palms, staring back at Minho. "Go for it."

"What are you talking about, dumbass? It's your turn in 'Truth or Dare.'" Minho crossed his arms in annoyance and rolled his eyes back, making you chuckle.

"Fine, I'll start this show then," you giggled, pretending to be annoyed that you got to begin this game of dares. You thought for a moment, glancing up and looking around. Though you took long, Minho didn't mind. Not only did get to prolong his humiliation for picking truth or dare, but he got to stare at your tits while you absent-mindedly arched your back, causing the buttons of your uniform to stretch against your chest.

"Ooh! Okay! I got it," you snapped back into reality and leaned forward, ruining Minho's view and his good time. "Truth or dare."

"Truth," Minho's response was almost automatic, choosing something safe for his first round.

"What..." you let the tension build as you placed your elbows on the table and then cradled your head in your palms, "is your cock size?"

Minho gagged a bit on nothing, not expecting you to be so forward and taking out the big questions on your first round. He cleared his throat and stared at you before awkwardly laughing

"Damn, really?"

"Why, too scared to respond?" You egged him on, sitting straight again and looking at him like he was a coward who refused to fight in a war.

"Not on the first round, no!" He defended.

"Well, then answer! May I remind you that you were the one who set the rules of the game!" You shot back. Minho leaned back and smiled at you as his face turned slightly red. He glanced away, too embarrassed to meet your gaze.

Never, ever had you seen Minho blush. He was so flustered, genuinely embarrassed by your question! You would never admit it, but he looked kind of cute being so taken back as someone who was normally so forward.

Minho cleared his throat before muttering something.

"What was that?!" You shouted at him with a dramatic hand to your ear, hoping to catch what he said. Minho shot you a look in an attempt to scare you but to no avail. Instead, you looked back at him with a devilish grin. "I'm waittinggggg," you chanted in a sing-song voice.

"Seven inches, okay?!" He shot back, turning his head to you and making deadly eye contact. Your hands immediately flew to your mouth and your eyes shot wide, surprised at his confidence and the fact that he responded at all. Silenced crept in again before you shook your head in disbelief.

"No... way..." you whispered. "You are not packing that much, not you! No!" Minho nodded as your hands slowly held your heart, acting like someone who just heard the most tragic news.

"That's kind of a dick thing to say," he scolded you.

"I—I'm sorry, I'm genuinely just like... shocked I guess?" You laughed before you began blushing too. "Damn, good job!"

"I already regret encouraging you to play this game," he sighed, shaking his head.

"Does that mean you secede?" You questioned teasingly.

"No! Especially not after I told you my dick size," he said. "God, it's my turn anyway."

"Fine, fine," you gathered yourself, smoothing your skirt and beginning to loosen the school tie that made you feel claustrophobic. "Go for it." Minho thought for a second before looking back at you, his face finally losing its redness

"Truth or dare?"

"Seven inches..." you whispered.

"Y/N!!!" He shouted.

"Yes, fine!" You giggled. "Dare!"

Minho smirked at you. "Wrong choice." Suddenly, you felt your stomach become queasy. You didn't like the glimmer in his eye nor the way he licked his lips. You agreed with him: you had definitely made the wrong choice. Minho stared at you for a second longer, admiring how wide your eyes went at his words, enjoying how you realized that you have brought upon your own demise.

"Show me the most embarrassing thing you own," he stated with a nod.

Dread washed over you and your face became a deep red.

"No... please... anything but that..." you whispered out, flustered at the request. Minho just laughed.

"Though I love to hear you beg for mercy," he chuckled, "rules are rules. Are you going to comply, or are you going to take your punishment?" You felt your throat go dry at his words. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh? Either show him the thing you were most ashamed of or be subjected to a slave-like status, forced to do his bidding.

You went with the former.

Wordlessly, you rose from your spot and turned around to go to your bed across the room.

"Ooooo," Minho called. "I'm excited!!!"

"At least one of us is," you mumbled back loud enough for him to hear.

"What's Y/n's little guilty pleasure, hmm?" He teased, his playful tone ringing in your ears. You knew your shameful secrets, you just didn't want anyone else—especially your best friend—to know them, too. You sat beside your bed and bent down, reaching deeply underneath the frame to pull out something tucked closely to the wall. It took a long time to pull out what you were looking for, but Minho didn't mind: he was more engrossed in listening to your little groans and watching your skirt ride up your thighs, your back arching just enough to stick your backside out at him and have the bottom of your ass show. He licked his lips, hoping that you'd stay a little longer in the position as he felt his cock grow in his pants.

Sadly, you had found what you were looking for and shot back up. Your eyes gazed at the black shoebox in your hands, wondering if you were really going to complete this dare. Yet, Minho's words rang in your ears: are you going to comply, or are you going to take your punishment? It was obvious that feeling guilt now would be better than any future retribution.

You stood up and walked back to the table, sitting cross-legged on the floor and holding the box in your hands before looking back at Minho. His eyes were amused, enjoying your guilty expression and the flushed nature of your face.

"Don't tell me the biggest shame you own is an ugly pair of heels or some weed or something," he taunted, his frustrating giggles filling the room again.

Then, you remembered. Minho could still lose this game, and maybe your own boldness could scare him away. If your embarrassment couldn't get you to win, maybe your bravery could.

You smiled up at him, your expression quickly making suspicion replace his amusement.

Ripping the top of the box off, you flung the lid across the room and threw the container on the table, cascading papers across the surface and leaving the contents of the box on display.

Minho's eyes went wide and his face immediately became crimson again. He couldn't believe what his eyes were feasting on, unsettled by your sudden act of courage and the sudden tightness of his pants.

Various sex toys were displayed in front of him: dildos ranging from smaller sizes to enormous lengths, assorted vibrators with numerous settings and sizes, butt plugs, handcuffs, and flogs, just to name a few. Minho's felt uneasy by the sight, but also incredibly turned on.

Somehow, he was a bit angry too. Maybe it was because he knew that you had violated your pussy in countless ways before he's even had the chance to even taste you. Though the thought of you touching yourself with all these toys made him jealous, his mind also relished the fact that these toys had been used on you. He even briefly considered picking on up and licking it, choking on the fake cock, hoping to get a taste of your cunt that lingered on the silicone or glass.

Yet, to your eyes, he remained stagnant, supposedly shocked to stillness by the exposing state you just put yourself in. You laughed at his astounded expression.

"You can touch them if you want, by the way, " you giggled as you picked up your biggest cock. "They're clean. I always clean them after I use them." Minho's eyes followed you, watching you stroke the cock teasingly as if you were studying every artificial vein with the eye of an artist. Your finger traced the ridges of the dick before slamming it on the table, sticking the suction cup to the wooden surface and causing Minho to jolt back at the agility of your actions. He became hypnotized by the swaying phallus, fixating his eyes on it. Slowly, he tore his gaze away to watch you study the other contents of the box.

"You can always quit the game," you stated with a straight face before placing a glass dick along with a butterfly vibrator on the table. Minho shook his head, finally snapping out of his trance.

"What?!" he shouted, his face straight.

"Well, if you were shocked by my answer," you studied a glass butt plug before placing it back in its box, "then there's no saying how you'll react to the next questions I ask."

"Well... that's— I-I can't even—" Minho scoffed but it was obvious that he was still stumped by your reveal. Could he beat you in this game? He so desperately wanted to win, but he still had to survive his next turn, and then yours after. And, with what just happened, there's a possibility he can fail on your turn. Not to mention the hardness of his cock and the disappointment he feels knowing that your toys were clean and not coated in your juices clouded his mind.

However, he had to remain focused. His diligence had to override yours, he had to win this game as the defeat could be so bitter in so many ways. So, with a clearing of his throat and a wipe of his brow, he looked back at you who still examined your various toys and was beginning to put them away.

"It's my turn," he mumbled at you, making you acknowledge his existence for the first time in a bit. "Ask me: truth or dare."

You looked back at him for a second before placing the last toy back in the box and moving it to the side of the table, not placing the lid back on it and torturing Minho with a view of everything that had stuffed your pussy or ass or teased your clit and inevitably made you cum. It pained him to know that none of those toys were him, but he was pleased knowing that the size of your biggest dildo at least resembled the measurements of his cock. God, you knew his cock size now. He had thankfully forgotten for a brief second before the memories of minutes before came flooding back. Goddammit! Now he was hard thinking about you struggling to take it, having to work your way up to that size and still barely managing to squeeze it into your little pussy. Fuck, he had to focus!

Minho shook his head as he looked back at you, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind and avoid the box to his right. Your eyes showed your enjoyment of his suffering as you leaned on your hand, studying his expression just as you studied the toys moments before.

After a moment of silence, you finally spoke.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he immediately answered to his regret.

You laughed. Really laughed. Like, leaned back and cackled like a super villain.

Fuck. He made the wrong decision.

You stared back at him

"Let me see it," you stated.

"W... what are you talking about?"

"Your cock. Let me see it."

Okay, so Minho was surprised by you a few times already today.

But this took the cake.

"You wanna see my cock?"

You laughed out, yet his expression showed his true concern at your dare.

"Yeah You see, you're sporting seven inches hard, and I know for a fact that you're rock solid right now." Minho's embarrassment skyrocketed, horrified that you knew of the state of his cock and more worried that you might know that you were the one who caused it. "You always get that weird look whenever you have a boner, and I'm assuming seeing all these sex toys and maybe it just fucked with your male hormones or something."

Oh. Minho forgot for a second who he was talking to. Thank God you were too dumb to realize that it was what those toys represented that made him hard. That it wasn't the fact that there were just sex toys around, but that it was because he knew you used them. But, you always assumed that he was just like other guys. Even when you two went into that sex shop for shits and giggles one time, you supposed his awkwardness was because of all the fleshlights and pornstars on the wall. In reality, Minho couldn't handle the shop because everything made him think of you. Constricting you in that red harness which hung the wall, edging you for hours with that fat vibrator stuffed up your cunt, gagging you with the various ball-gags in the shop—it was all too much. With his mouth going dry and his pants unable to hide his growing hard-on, the shop quickly became an unsafe location for him. He left unexpectedly and you teased him for weeks after about it, starting a rumour that he was a prude and a virgin who couldn't handle even discussing sex— none of which being true. Minho didn't mind, however; he'd rather you'd think he was a stiff than a slag who was desperate to fill your holes with his fingers, cock, and toys. Plus, he was plenty happy with the happy fantasizing about you and all that stuff in the shop in his free time.

But now... this was different. Now, you were making him put his cards on the table, or fold. Either show you his cock or succumb to your whims, practically becoming your male odalisque instantaneously. Though at this point either option sounded insane to him, he still preferred to have the upper hand.

His eyes met yours, yours burned back into his, and he decided that it was time you saw how similar your larger toys were to him.

To your shock, Minho stood up and frantically began unzipping his dress pants, knowing that if he was too slow he'd psych himself out. His dress shirt came out next, Minho pulling it out of its previously neatly tucked form and freeing the wrinkled fabric. Then, with a single tug, his pants were just low enough to reveal the top of his boxers. Soon his cock would be out and he would be done this—

"STOP!" You yelped.

For the first time since he started undressing, Minho looked at you. Your expression was confusing, a mixture of holding back laughter and genuinely horrified.

"I..." you began, "I didn't think you'd actually do it... holy fuck you want to win." You began laughing loudly, making Minho pull up his pants to cover his boxers.

"You mean to tell me that you just wanted to see if I actually would do it?" he spat. "You dumbass this is literally truth or dare! If I don't comply I lose, you get that?!"

"Yes!" You laughed, "But I couldn't actually make you do it! I can't see your penis! I trust your seven inches and all but I don't want this to be how I see your dick, okay dude?"

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Minho argued back, aggressively zipping up his pants and crashing to the floor, pissed and ready to move on with the game.

You glanced away, "Nothing, don't worry. Just... let's move on okay? That counts as your turn."

"You're damn right that counts as my turn," he mumbled as he re-rolled his sleeves. "Can't believe I almost just showed my cock to win this fucking thing. Let's end this." You didn't like the sound of that. If Minho meant that and you just put him through hell, then what would he subject you to?! What diabolical things could he make you do, or make you admit to? Worse, what if you lose? Your mind starts to panic and you barely hear Minho speak those terrifying words.

"Y/N!" He shouted.

"What?!" You replied, snapping out of your worries.

"I said, 'Truth or dare?'" That stupid fucking mischievous smile came up on his face again.

No matter what you chose you were screwed. What could be worse: truth or dare? Goddamit!

"Truth... no, dare!" You corrected. "Wait..."

"Tick tock, y/n," he urged.

"Goddamit! Dare!" You shot back. "Final answer!"

You believed that this was the better choice. It was better to do something than have to admit to anything, right? Then you met his eyes again, the crescent moon shapes indicating his happiness at your choice.

...Ah.

Fucked. You were fucked.

"I want you," he leaned forward and shoved the box to his right onto the centre again, scattering some of your homework off the edge table, "to show me how you use these."

No. Fucking. Way.

Your immediate response was to laugh. Why wouldn't you? Being who he was, Minho was probably just getting back at you for the last dare you gave him. But why was he so worked up? You got him out of it and it was just a little prank. You didn't really want to see his cock because of a stupid dare, so he wouldn't want to watch you play with yourself in return turn.

Wouldn't he?

"I'm not joking, Y/N," Minho stated, straight-faced.

Your laughter was cut short, the room filling with silence.

"Oh God..." you mumbled. "You're actually serious, aren't you!?"

"You're damn right I'm serious," he replied. For the first time, Minho reached into the black shoebox and pulled out your toys. His imitation of you was impeccable, matching exactly how you studied the fake cocks and butt plug before placing them down in front of your still figure. As you watched his motions, a cocktail of fear, embarrassment, and overwhelming anxiety filled you. He was like a mob boss deciding what method of torture to use on you. "It's my turn. First, you show me these toys— some of which your perverted self probably bought when we hung out together at the mall and you snuck off! Then, you make me think you wanna see my cock, know what I'm packing, see if you can take it or some shit, and then make me stop?" He spat, "Heh. I don't fucking think so." He slammed down a vibrator on the table, making you shiver. You looked so small across from him, your nipples peaking through your shirt and your hands nervously fiddling with the edge of your skirt. Minho chuckled again. He knew what he was saying was on the money, that what he spoke wasn't an accusation, but a statement of fact.

"You're a bit scared, aren't you?" You nodded as a response, not daring to utter a word. He erupted in laughter. "Good! I hope you're terrified."

"M-Minho, you can't do this!" You protested, "I didn't make you show me your dick, I was just fooling around, but this is ridiculous! You can't make me—"

"Do you want to lose?" He shot back, quieting you instantly. "You know the consequences if you do." You did know. What would he make you do as retribution for your non-compliance? You dared not to think of it.

Instead, you occupied your mind with the various toys laid out in front of you. In an attempt to calm yourself, you began calculating the amount it all added up to. How much money have you spent on each one? How much time have you spent scouring the internet for them? How many hours have you spent using them? Unintentionally, your mind became filled again with the unbearable memories of how these toys made you feel, how you know they can make you feel, and how strangely good you felt after Minho's little speech just now. What the fuck were you going to do?

Finally, you glanced up at Minho's eyes, meeting them for the first time in what felt like forever.

"No," you said, "I don't plan on losing." Minho respected your courage, yet his smirk suggested he was calling your bluff.

The spread of the phallic objects and other various suggestive shapes in front of you gave you plenty of options, but you opted for the bunny vibrator, snatching it quickly and decisively so you couldn't hesitate on doing what you had to do.

"Fine choice," Minho muttered in response to your action. You rolled your eyes at him and then sat up on your knees, placing the vibrator beside you on the floor. You leaned forward slightly, giving Minho a perfect view of your cleavage from your unbuttoned top, though you took this position to attempt to give yourself some sense of privacy. Your hands ran up the back of your thighs tentatively, careful to not ride your skirt up too much. As your hands found the hem of your panties, you quickly pulled them down, not wanting to stay in this embarrassing position any longer. Minho let out a small yelp from across the table, indicating to you that he was excited by your exposure. Sitting back on your spread knees, you held your white lace panties between your thumb and index finger. Looking back at Minho, you saw him lick his lips and noticed his stiff posture. His cock was just as tense as the rest of his body and you knew it. You would enjoy how torturous this would be for him. You dropped your panties to your side. Picking up the vibrator on your other side, you looked up at Minho one last time before you would ruin any last shred of dignity you had remaining.

"Last chance to back out," Minho stated. Your face was just as blank as his, attempting to hide any lingering regret or the horniness either of you was experiencing.

You clicked the vibrator on, the low hum filling the room.

"I'm not backing out."

With your tongue already out, you placed the tip of the vibrator on the muscle and wet it with your spit. Minho took a deep inhale at the site, watching you hum slightly at the sensation. God, were you really going to do this? Both of you worried the same thing, wondering how far this game was going to go.

"Stop... stop teasing the tip," Minho said dryly. "Go on, show me how you work your little pretty pussy." Your heart tightened at the words, feeling stupid that your panties weren't there to absorb the wetness growing between your thighs.

"Let me take my time, Minho," you whispered back, making him moan lowly at your response. You chuckled at him. "Don't worry baby, I like it slow."

What had this game become between you two?

"If you take too long, you're going to lose by default," he responded, leaning forward, palms flat on the table and his hard-on clearly visible in his pants. He was getting antsy and it amused you, though you knew how serious your predicament was.

"That's not fair," you tutted, attempting to act dominant in a situation where you were clearly pitted against. "I can't do it right if I go too fast." You pouted slightly, letting the drool-covered vibrator buzz in your hands.

Minho shook his head, "Do it now or take your punishment."

Now it was your turn to gulp. He was serious.

You nodded, glancing down to your spread knees, your only privacy your school skirt, then at the buzzing bunny in your hands. Though you couldn't see him, you could feel Minho's look seethe into you, his breath heavy. At a snail's pace, your hands began to move the toy lower and lower. One hand parted from the object, caressing your thighs before lightly grasping the edge of your skirt. You pushed the hem higher and higher, raising the skirt to your mid-thighs as the toy continued pushing downward. Suddenly, you found Minho's hand touching yours, the one that held the vibrator, guiding it down to your cunt.

"C'mon, show me..." he whispered, a mixture of a beg and a demand. "I know you can, y/n."

His entire body was stretched across the table, face-to-face with you, noses and foreheads almost touching as you both stared down past your tits and tummy to the rising fabric with the vibrator as a guide. So close, the space closing and closing until finally your skirt was bunched so much it almost showed your soaked pussy. Minho could feel himself drooling, his hand upping the speed on the vibrator until it violently buzzed in his and your hands. Your chest rose and fell quickly with the speed of your breath, confusing Minho as he tried to watch your entire body at once. The toy now was only a few inches from you, your pussy still covered by your skirt, but one final movement and—

"WAIT!" You shouted, scaring Minho and causing him to collapse on the table and making you fall back. The vibrator was flung across the room and you scurried to cover yourself, pulling your skirt down. Minho groaned at the impact of the fall on his chest, his hand cradling his ribs as he closed his eyes in pain.

"Oh-oh my God, Minho!" You sputtered out, clamouring over to him and picking up his face in both of your hands and looking up at him. "I-I'm so sorry! Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

Minho shook his head, "Uhh... fine, I think...." he slowly pushed off the table, sitting back against the wall and across the table from you again.

"I'm sorry about that," you quickly apologized, "I just got a little... I just think that dare was too much, maybe... I don't know... I—"

"Don't apologize," Minho looked up at you, sincerity deep in his voice. "It was intense, and you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

You opened your mouth to say something again, another apology you suppose, before shutting it and nodding, silently appreciating his understanding. Slowly Minho rose, stretching and rolling his neck back.

"Are you okay?" You asked. He nodded.

"I'm fine, just a little sore." He walked around a bit, stretching his legs that had almost fallen asleep from the long period of sitting on the floor. "Are you okay?" You nodded, watching him cross the room so now he stood across the carpet from you.

"Yes, I'm fine." Minho nodded at your response and then looked down beside him to the humming bunny. The buzzing hadn't ceased: the vibrator still bounced aggressively beside him. He looked down at it then at you.

Abruptly, you became extremely embarrassed. God, what the fuck did you just do!? Minho smiled at your reddening face before bending down to pick up the toy. He shut it off and then looked up at you, waving the toy in your direction. With a smirk, he tossed it back in the box before sauntering over to you and sticking his hand out. The last of your pride was already torn to shreds after that debacle, you might as well let him help you up. You grabbed his hand and jumped up with the support. Yet, you didn't realize that your legs had fallen asleep, and you stumbled into Minho. Quickly grasping the small of your back while his other hand remained intertwined with yours, Minho caught you and let you stumble into him.

It was quiet for a moment, the seconds passing as you stood like two dancers frozen in a performance. He smiled at you, and you smiled back. Then, he ruined the moment.

"You won't be fine for long," he whispered. Confusion hit you first, then, after a brief moment of thinking, you realized what his words meant. Horror swept across your face.

"I... I lost..." you muttered.

"Yep," Minho said, his hand rubbing your back, "and I won."

You gulped. "What will you make me do?"

Minho chuckled, "Nothing too bad." His hand continued to stroke your back, calming you in this moment of terror. "Just want to show you off, is all." The sound of that made your knees weaker than they already were.

His hand began to rub lower and lower down your torso before caressing the curve of your ass through your skirt. You hiccuped at the feeling, realizing how close you two were with him holding you like this. Minho leaned into you, lips touching the curve of your ear.

"Do you feel me, y/n?" He asked, "Do you feel how good you make you feel?" You did. It was undeniable that you felt him through his pants. He was still so hard, aching to be buried in you, and you realized how much you actually would enjoy his seven inches, the slight curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly. You were a fool to think that it was just the toys and all that stuff getting Minho hard: it was you.

You tightened your grip on him.

"W-What will you make me do, Minho?" You asked again, hoping that it wouldn't be as embarrassing as this moment was.

"I know exactly what I want. Do you know what you want, y/n?" he asked, his breath tickling your ear. You buried your face in his neck.

"I don't know..." Your voice came out as a hushed mumble, your shyness making him smile. He could be sweet if he wanted, ease your self-consciousness and feed your begs by letting you not experience the suffering he had in store.

But Minho wasn't nice. He wasn't sweet and only was if he wanted to be. And right now, it seemed like charity was the furthest thing on his mind.

"You look so pretty right now, without your panties on," Minho's hand slowly bunched your skirt up, clasping the fabric underneath his wrist as his fingers played with and caressed your ass. Whimpering at his touch, you realized how wet you still were, how much you needed him. That almost went away with the words he spoke next.

"I wonder if you want everyone else to see you like this." The world stopped for a moment, fear freezing your body.

"...what?" you muttered, glancing at him.

Minho hummed, "I wonder how long you could stand not wearing panties." Minho pulled back his hand from your back and moved away from you, making you ache to feel his cock again. He cupped your chin and forced you to face him "You'd like that, wouldn't you baby?" You were too stunned to speak. Could he really make you do that? What would happen if you didn't comply?

"Minho... please.." you begged. Minho chuckled and separated away from you, making you drag your reach out for him. He walked towards the table and started gathering his homework in his bag, picking up every last scattered paper that was his.

"Now, now, y/n you knew the rules and you still obeyed," he tutted. "Tomorrow at school: no underwear, shorts, tights: anything. I don't want anything covering your pussy or your thick ass." He looked up at you, staring deeply into your wide eyes. "I want to be able to bend you over any time I want and enjoy the view." He looked down to check if he had forgotten anything, and he did. The white lace of your panties peaked through a flipped-over notebook, almost escaping his searching gaze. Minho picked them up gingerly, smirking at you as he stood up straight. Balling them up and sniffing them lightly, Minho basked in your scent before dropping them in his bag and zipping it tightly shut. "You won't be needing these, will you, y/n?" He asked. "You'll get them back when you've been good."

He walked up to you and patted you on the head before bending down and meeting your eyes. You had said nothing, stunned to a motionless figure at what was happening.

"But..." you muttered out, meeting his eyes. "But I've been good..."

"Not good enough," he laughed out. With a lean, he kissed the top of your forehead before patting you again. He stood straight and walked past you. Your gaze followed him towards the door of your bedroom, watching him turn the knob and swing the door open. Before taking another step, he stopped and turned back towards you.

"See you tomorrow, y/n!" Happiness and monotony layered his voice, making one think that what just happened was a regular occurrence and that what was to come wasn't out of the ordinary either. Minho turned again and walked out, closing the door behind him and beginning his journey home.

Silence filled the room as you looked at the mess around you before turning back towards the shut door.

"Tomorrow... no panties... nothing..." you recited. Your mouth was dry and you felt lightheaded. Oh, fuck... what were you going to do?!

"See you tomorrow, Minho."

continued in part 2

[barnesafterglow]

the kissing booth

summary: mary sets you and frank up

pairing: frank adler x teacher!reader

word count: 941

warnings: meet cute, maybe a little awkward, let's not question why there's a kissing booth at a school fair, mary being her genius self, frank's pov

a/n: here is day 8 of my summer writing challenge with the prompt meeting each other at a kissing booth!! thanks to your local gifted fanatic @pellucid-constellations for telling me this is not, in fact, a pile of shit. enjoy <3

Mary was on a mission, apparently. She had been acting suspicious since they got out of the car, and Frank had a feeling she was plotting something. As she pulled him through the school fair without even stopping to say hello to her friends, he knew he was in trouble.

Especially when she stopped right in front of the one booth he would have avoided all night if not for her. The Kissing Booth.

She bounced on her toes, smiling up at him innocently as she dragged him into the line, and he stuck his hands in his pockets, trying to peer through the crowd and get a glimpse of who was working.

His heart did a little stutter when he saw it was you standing behind the rickety wood. You were Mary’s 2nd grade teacher, new to the school, and Mary had not so subtly been trying to get Frank to ask you out since the start of the year.

It started with her bringing you up nearly every day, talking about how pretty and nice and clearly single you were, which Frank promptly ignored because he wasn’t about to be set up by an eight year old. Then she conveniently left the computer open to your staff profile on the school’s website. And when that still didn’t work, she printed out your picture and stuck it on his door, complete with red hearts drawn around your face.

So, yeah, Frank shouldn’t have been surprised that this is where her plotting ended up, and he should definitely have gotten out of line before he actually had to talk to you and fall right into Mary’s trap. But looking at you interacting with all the kids, giving them a peck on the cheek and watching with bright amusement as they ran away giggling, was mesmerizing.

Then suddenly he was right in front of you and it was too late to get out of the whole ordeal. And Mary looked absolutely pleased with herself from where she stood just off to the side of the booth.

“Hi, you must be Frank,” you said, sticking your hand out across the slab of wood for him to shake. “Mary has talked about you. A lot.”

You gave Mary a little side eye, and it was apparent that she was working on setting you all up from both ends.

“Likewise.” His legs wobbled at the feel of your hand in his, and he could smell the floral perfume you were wearing. Maybe Mary had a point.

There were a few awkward seconds where you both continued to stare at each other, still shaking hands, without saying a word. Frank didn’t know how long he could have looked into your eyes like that, but Mary not-so-subtly cleared her throat and you both jumped back just a hair, realizing what you were doing.

He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, content with just stuffing a few bills in the jar on the makeshift counter and taking Mary wherever she wanted to go next, but you wouldn’t let him walk away.

“At least let me give you a kiss on the cheek,” you insisted. “You paid for it after all.”

Was that flirting? Were you flirting with him right now? Mary was going to be riding this high until she graduated. 

He sighed playfully. “I guess I can do that. Wouldn’t want you to lose your job.”

You giggled at that and his heart soared. He wasn’t willing to dissect the reason you caused him to act like he was back in grade school, so he turned his head, waiting for your soft lips to meet his cheek.

But as you leaned across the counter, barely an inch away from his skin, Mary called his name urgently. His head jerked in her direction and instead of a peck on the cheek, your lips collided with his.

Neither of you moved for a moment, shocked into stillness. He shouldn’t be doing this - not with Mary’s teacher, not at her school fair - but he couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss the slightest bit. You relaxed into him, clearly reciprocating, before pulling away with a smile.

“Well now every customer is going to be expecting that.” You sounded a little dazed, and he definitely wasn’t any better.

“I’m hoping I’m special.” The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he could immediately feel the blush spread across his face. “I mean -”

“Trust me, no one else is going to be getting that kind of service.” Your smile was infectious and, even with his face still burning hot, Frank couldn’t help but return it.

All of a sudden he felt a tiny kick to the back of his leg, and turned to see one of Mary’s classmates standing behind him with a scowl on his face.

“Get a move on, buddy. We all wanna talk to Miss L/N.” And, okay, the line was getting pretty long. Frank held up his hands in apology, turning to tell you goodbye before he pulled Mary away.

When he faced you again, you had reached into your bag below the counter, grabbing a marker and his hand, and scrawled something into his skin.

“Maybe Mary has a point,” was all you said before waving him off, greeting the student with another dazzling smile.

“What did she write?” Mary asked. “I bet it was her number.”

Sure enough, there were 10 digits on the back of his hand, and when he turned to look at you again, you just gave him a wink.

Maybe Mary did have a point.

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

Madripoor

Requested by: MEEE cause this plot popped into my head the second I watched this episode

Summary: Bucky was just following Sharon’s advice to enjoy the party when he meets *yn*, what he isn’t counting on is that he most definitely won’t be staying out of trouble.

Warnings: THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER EP 3 SPOILERS YOU’VE BEEN WARNEDDDDD, fluff, swearing, violence

PART TWO (NAGEL)

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

“Lay low, blend in. Enjoy the party.” Sharon spoke as she made her way up the stairs. “Oh and try to stay out of trouble, I’ll see what I can find.” 

“Trouble?” Zemo smirked. 

--------

Sharon’s words echoed in Bucky’s ears as he made his way through the party. Sweaty bodies were pressed up against him as he ducked and weaved through the crowd. It felt like the pulsating music was drumming against his skull as he made his way up to the bar.

“I’m way too old for this.” He huffed out once he reached Sam, gesturing to the bartender for two shots.

“Old or lame? There’s a big difference.” Sam remarked as the pair simultaneously clinked their glasses together and skulled the liquid. Bucky smirked as he watched Sam cough and splutter.

“Now who’s the lame one?” Bucky chuckled, the liquid burning his throat.

“Maybe we both are. Look at Zemo, the dude may be weird but he’s got game.” Sam answered once he’d recovered. 

Bucky followed his gaze to see Zemo dancing in between two women, both giggling and chatting animately. He watched as Zemo suddenly began pumping his arm enthusiastically to the beat as the girls watched him wide eyed, before exchanging glancing and slipping back into the crowd without another word.

“On second thought dude’s just weird.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he leant forward and grabbed the beer that the bartender had left out for him. He took a swig as he turned back around to face the party. He automatically swept over area, his eyes sliding over the hundreds of faces as he looked out for any threat.

He paused as his eyes fell on a flash of bright red material. 

Upon closer inspection he noted that the bright red material was in fact a silk dress that was covering the slender figure of a young woman. It was a halter dress that had a deep slit down the front and was almost completely backless, the silk material falling down almost to her ankles with another deep slit also running up her leg that exposed her thigh. 

He felt his grip on his beer tighten as his eyes fell on her face, revealing a pair of eyes framed by thick lashes and lips painted with a deep plum lipstick. She was snaking her way through the crowd, gracefully dodging drunken people as they stumbled their way around on the dance floor. 

As if she sensed his gaze her eyes flickered up and locked with his. The pair eyed each other for a few moments. She shot him a small smile before breaking their gaze.

“Now who would you be checking out hm?” Sam’s voice broke Bucky out of his almost trance like state. 

“No one.” Bucky answered gruffly, glancing over at Sam to see him smirking at him. 

“Sure Buck.”

Bucky ignored him and turned his head back to where the woman had been only moments ago. She was gone. He scanned the crowd and let out a small huff when he couldn’t see any sight of her. 

“Now, I need you to educate me on this art so I can impress some of the ladies.” Sam spoke up again, dragging Bucky’s attention from the crowd.

“What’s that one?” He asked pointing at a nearby painting.

“That’s the Wedding at Cana, painted by Paolo Veronese in 1563.”

“1562 actually.”

Bucky swivelled around, a breath catching in his throat when his eyes fell on the bright red dress. He had no idea how she’d managed to somehow appear beside him without him noticing. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair as he composed himself before answering, ensuring his face stayed void of emotion.

“I’m pretty sure it’s 1563 actually.”

His answer made her brow quirk up in amusement as she took a sip of her drink, her wrist twinkling due to a very expensive looking diamond bracelet dangling from it.

“Actually I think you’ll find it’s 1562. The copy in the Louvre might say 1563 but I suggest you take a peak at the original.” Her words made his eyes narrow as he studied her features. 

“Well maybe I will.” 

“Before you do that please feel free to continue educating your friend, I’m happy to sit here and correct you when you make another mistake.” She spoke, shooting him an overly warm smile which caused Bucky to grit his teeth. 

Sam let out a low whistle as the smirk on her lips widened. “Damn Buck I think you might’ve met someone more cultured than you.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Bucky muttered, taking a swig of his beer as he eyed her. 

“So how does someone like yourself become so knowledgable about stolen art?” Sam asked her, his eyes darting between the pair in amusement.

The girl shrugged as she took another sip of her drink before motioning to the bartender. “I know a lot about a lot of things.” 

“Really?” Bucky mused, this time it being his turn to raise a brow. “And does ‘miss knower of all things’ have a name?” 

“Miss knower of all things does.” She answered as she grabbed the shot glass and pressed it to her lips. Bucky eyed her profile intently, noting the way her plump lips wrapped around the lip of the glass and her eyes screwed shut as she slung her head back to let the liquid slide down her throat. 

“I love this song.” She remarked, finishing the remainder of her other drink before she rose from her seat. Bucky’s eyes followed her figure as she begun to make her way back to the dance floor. She paused and glanced over her shoulder, a smirk still present on her lips.

“You coming to dance with me or what Buck?” She queried, Sam’s nickname for him rolling off her tongue, amusement evident in her tone.

Bucky eyed her for a few moments before glancing over at Sam. “Sharon did say to enjoy the party.” Sam grinned.

“Try not to be too lame or old huh?” He continued, patting his shoulder encouragingly as Bucky rose from his chair. 

“Thanks.” Bucky muttered as he cautiously approached the woman in red. Her smirk widened as he made his way towards her. “C’mon.” He heard her say as she leant forward and took his gloved hand in hers and tugged him into the crowd.

If she was saying anything to him, he couldn’t hear as he felt himself become engulfed in the crowd as she pulled him deeper into the dance floor. After a few moments she came to a stop and swivelled around to face him. He felt himself grow slightly red as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, swaying her hips to the beat.

“Are you really not going to tell me your name?” Bucky spoke, practically shouting to make himself heard over the thumping base.

“Why do you want to know? You never danced with a stranger before?” She answered back.

“No I just- I usually know people’s names before I dance with them.” He replied which caused her to let out a small laugh. “Back in my day we used to go out to dinner first.” He added silently in his head. 

His heart thumped against his chest as she pulled him closer to her and leant up so her lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “My name’s *yn*.” 

“*yn*.” Bucky echoed, her smile widening at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. “And what brings you to a place like Madripoor?” 

“You ask a lot of questions.” She observed matter-of-factly.  

Before Bucky could open his mouth to respond, *yn* twisted around, keeping one arm slung around his neck as she pressed her back up against his body. Bucky bit his lip to prevent a hiss from escaping his mouth as *yn* began to rotate her hips to the rhythm of the music, the fabric of her dress pressing against the material of his black suit pants.

This certainly beat online dating.

“Just relax, enjoy the party.” *yn* laughed breathlessly, echoing Sam’s words from before as she pressed even harder against him. Bucky let his eyes flutter shut as he felt his hands automatically move to grip her hips as he started to move his own body in time with the thumping bass. 

His grip on her hips tightened as she lolled her head back against his chest, her hot breath fanning onto his neck as the pair moved in sync. 

If only Steve could see him now.

As he grew more comfortable he let his gloved hands begin to wander, trailing over her lower stomach before gliding down her thighs. “What do you say we go find somewhere quieter to talk?” He heard *yn* murmur into his ear. 

He felt *yn*’s body stiffen as his hands crept lower to just below her panty line. Before he could answer, her hand suddenly shot out to grip his wrist and cease his movements but not before his hand suddenly brushed over an unexpected bump on her leg. 

A shape that felt suspiciously like a-

A hand suddenly clamped onto his shoulder causing him to jerk his hands away in surprise just as *yn* pulled away from his grasp. “I’m sorry to break up the party but Sharon’s found our guy-” Sam cut himself off as Bucky swivelled around to stare at him, his eyes wide in surprise.

“You good man?” Sam asked, concern written on his features when he noticed Bucky’s look of surprise.

“I-” Bucky cut himself off before looking back to *yn*.

His brow furrowed as his eyes instead fell on a drunk man currently sculling a beer out of a shoe. He frantically looked around, muttering a curse under his breath when he realised *yn* was no where to be seen. 

It was like she had vanished without a trace.

“Oh painting girl pulled a runner? Don’t worry about it man happens to the best of us.” Sam comforted, patting his shoulder once more. 

Bucky felt a ripple of suspicion wash over him but he decided against telling Sam about it as he finally pulled his gaze away from the crowd to look at Sam. “Let’s get Zemo. We should talk somewhere private.”

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

“Alright what have you found?” Sam asked. Zemo, Bucky, Sharon and Sam were all piled into a private coat room located directly above the party. The bass was still so loud that Bucky could feel the vibrations through the tiled floor. The door was locked with a few security guards located outside and on the stairs leading up to the room. 

Bucky sighed, his mind swimming with thoughts of *yn* as he ripped his gloves off. He couldn’t shake a feeling of suspicious that was gnawing at him that there was something off about *yn*.

“I’ve spoken to a few buyers and I’ve got a location on Doctor Nagel.” Sharon spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “He was pretty hard to track down but he’s definitely still here in Madripoor. He’s at the shipping yard.”

Bucky stiffened when he swore he head a thump outside the door, a thump that didn’t correlate with the sound from the party. He strained his ears and sure enough, another thump followed suit a few minutes lately. 

“Bucky?”

“You sure no one can get up here?” Bucky queried, looking over to Sharon. 

“I’m sure. This is a restricted area, I’ve got all the entrances guarded.” She answered, watching him as he made his way to the door.

“Bucky? What’s going on?” Sam asked.

Bucky held his hand up to signal everyone to be quiet as he pressed his ear against the wood. He held his breath as he listened intently. There were a few moments of quiet until he head another thump and a small moan. 

Without warning Bucky ripped open the door and stepped out into the hallway. He nearly tripped over when his foot hit a solid form. He glanced down to see one of the guards lying at his feet, letting out low moans of pain. His eyes travelled down the hall to see all of the guards were either unconscious or were too dazed to get to their feet. 

He froze when his eyes fell on an all too familiar red dress. 

Bucky locked eyes with *yn*, her lips parted in surprise and chest heaving up and down as she tried to regain her breath. The pair stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, the silence almost deafening as they eyed each other. 

“Bucky!” Sam called out, shattering the silence.

Bucky was only distracted for a split second but *yn* took it, turning around and sprinting down the stairs. “Hey!” Bucky shouted, taking off after her ignoring Sam’s shouts from behind him. 

Bucky leapt down the winding stairs, catching brief glimpses of the red material before it disappeared around the next corner. Finally his feet planted on the lower floor. His eyes scanned the crowd, locking onto *yn*’s figure as she pushed through the crowd.

His jaw locked and he could feel himself enter into winter soldier mode as he stormed forward and plunged into the throng of people. He ignored protests and exclamations of surprise as he shoved people out of the way, parting them like the red sea as he kept his eyes focused on her like a laser beam. 

*yn* glanced over her shoulder and the pair briefly locked eyes before she turned around once more and broke out of the crowd, sprinting towards a door with a neon exit sign hanging above it. 

Bucky was hot on her heels, shoving the door open revealing another set of stairs. He hurried up the stairs and got to a landing revealing two doors. He noted that the left door was slightly ajar and he pushed through it revealing a large hall.

He sprinted into the centre of it, coming to a stop when he saw no sight of *yn*. He did a 360 of the room, craning his neck to look around. The room was empty except for a few large wooden boxes covered in tarps. Clearly this was where Sharon kept the less impressive stolen art.

“Come on.” Bucky muttered under his breath as he looked around. It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop but his senses were telling him that he wasn’t alone in this room.

*yn* was here, if that was even her name.

He let out a grunt of surprise as a sold object hit his back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He could feel limbs wrapping around his neck and his torso as slender arms pulled his neck into a headlock. He let another grunt as he brought his hands up to grip onto the arm that was around his throat.

He furrowed his brow in surprise when he pulled at the arms and found them unbudging. He tried once more, mustering all the strength he had but *yn*’s grip remained unmoving. He gritted his teeth and took a couple steps before shoving his back into one of the wooden crates.

He heard *yn* let out a small moan of pain as her body smacked against the solid mass with full force. Sure enough, her grip loosened slightly which allowed Bucky to pull her arm from his neck and throw her body over his head and off him. 

She twisted her body in the air so that she landed in a crouched position but still on her feet. Bucky watched her as she rose to her full height, her body slightly gleaming with sweat under the sterile light. She took a few steps back from him and leant down to spread apart her dress, revealing a black thigh garter.

Just as Bucky had suspected on the dance floor, sheathed inside the thigh garter was a small blade. He watched as she pulled it from her thigh, gripping it tightly in her hand.

“You picked the wrong dress tonight doll.” Bucky tutted as he took a few steps towards her.

“You don’t like it? I’m hurt.” *yn* pouted, placing a hand over her heart mockingly. 

“Trust me doll, I like it.” Bucky answered, letting his eyes briefly dart from the dagger in her hand to her dress. “But it’s not exactly the best dress for blending in and slipping away unnoticed.” 

“Who ever said I wanted to slip away unnoticed?” *yn* answered, a mischievous glint in her eye as the pair began to slowly circle each other. Her words made his forehead crease in confusion as he studied her intently. 

“So you know who I am?” 

“I do.” *yn* nodded as she twisted the knife in between her fingers. “The зимний солдат.” 

Her answer made Bucky’s lips part slightly in surprise. “That is what they call you, isn’t it?” She mused.

“Who are you?” Bucky snapped causing her to smirk to widen.

“What were those magic words again, Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать-”

Bucky suddenly lurched forward, taking *yn* by surprise. She reacted instinctively, bringing the blade up from her side towards his stomach. Bucky gripped her wrist using his right arm, stopping the knife only inches from his flesh. He pulled her closer to him and raised his metal arm to strike her. With lightning fast reflexes her other arm shot up and her hand enclosed around his fist.

He glanced up at her in surprise when she pushed against his metal arm, stopping his fist from colliding with her jaw. He grunted as he mustered up more strength in an attempt to break out of her grasp to no avail. They were evenly matched in strength. 

He had no idea who she was but now he was certain of one thing. They both had super soldier serum running through their veins. 

*yn* took advantage of Bucky’s surprise and lifted a leg up, kicking him squarely in the stomach, her stiletto heel digging into his skin. Bucky spluttered as he felt the wind get knocked out of him, loosening his grip on her arms. *yn* reacted quickly, knocking his feet from underneath him and jumping on top of him. 

Bucky groaned as his back hit the concrete floor and *yn* straddled him, pinning both of his arms above his head with one hand and pressing her dagger to his throat with the other.

“I think I liked you better when I was showing you up in front of your friend.” She remarked as she pressed the blade firmly against his skin.

“And I think I liked you better when you were dancing on me and not trying to kill me.” Bucky spat back as he squirmed underneath her causing *yn* to cock her head to the side, an amused expression on her features.

“Now whoever said I wanted to kill you?” 

“Hmm I don’t know, could be the knife you’ve got against my throat.” He growled, wincing as the metal dug even further into his flesh. *yn* let out a breathy laugh as she leant down towards his face.

“Trust me pretty boy, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.” 

The sound of footsteps approaching and Sam calling Bucky’s name made both their heads jerk towards the door before Bucky could answer her. This time it was Bucky’s turn to take advantage of *yn* being caught off guard. He managed to wriggle his metal arm out of her iron like grip and instantly lurched up to grab her around the throat. 

*yn* spluttered in surprise, instinctively dropping her dagger to use both her hands to struggle against his vice like grip. Bucky used all of his core strength to push her off him and roll himself on top of her. Now he was so close up to her and under bright light, he could see that her skin was littered with small scars and bullet holes. 

*yn*’s face was slowly growing red as she desperately gasped for air, her body squirming underneath him as she clawed at his metal arm. “I’m not going to ask you again, who the hell are you?” Bucky spat, glaring down at her as he desperately searched her eyes for some sort of answer.

“I don’t-” She spluttered, “I didn’t come here to hurt you, please-” She continued, her voice barely a whisper as her airway grew more restricted. For the first time since Bucky had locked eyes with her, he could see some form of fear and desperation reflecting back at him. The pair eyed each other for a few moments before Bucky slowly eased his grip around her throat, just enough for her to regain some air. *yn* gasped at the feeling of oxygen entering her lungs once more.

“Woah, what the fuck-” 

Bucky looked up to see Sam, Sharon and Zemo staring at the pair with wide eyes, all three of them with their weapons raised. 

“What part of stay out of trouble did you not understand?” Sharon queried, an exacerbated expression on her features.

“Trouble found me.” Bucky answered gruffly as he looked back down at *yn*. The fear that had been present on her features only moments ago had vanished, the cocky and flirtatious mask had been slipped back on. 

“Not that I really mind this position, but given that the cavalry’s arrived, do you mind getting off me?” *yn* asked Bucky coolly. 

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unamused at her remark as he studied her. “You’re not going to try and kill me again?” 

“I already told you, I don’t want to kill you.” *yn* huffed, rolling her eyes. 

Bucky studied her for a few moments before finally relenting and releasing her throat from his grip. He pushed himself off her and rose to his feet but not before grabbing her dagger and sliding it into his suit pants. 

*yn* got herself up from the ground, her breathing still ragged as she ran a hand through her hair and tucked her strays behind her ears. 

“You wanna tell us who this is Bucky?” Sharon asked, eyeing *yn* up and down.

“Supposedly her name is *yn*-”

“-not supposedly, it is *yn*.”

“-she seems to like not answering questions about herself.” Bucky ignored *yn*’s input. “Oh and she’s had the super soldier serum.” 

“Might want to keep an eye on your friend over there, I know he’s in the habit of murdering anyone who’s come within walking distance of the stuff.” *yn* remarked dryly shooting Zemo a dirty look. 

“Hello to you too darling.” Zemo grinned causing Sharon to roll her eyes.

“Who are you? Who the hell do you work for?” Sharon quizzed her.

“I don’t work for anyone.” *yn* snapped back.

“The flag smashers?” Sam asked causing *yn*’s face to contort into a look of disgust. “Fuck no, I don’t work with those amateurs.” 

“Just tell us what you want or I’m going to have to detain you.” Sharon spoke. There was a brief pause as *yn* studied Sharon before looking over to Bucky.

“You’re not the only one looking for answers, зимний солдат.” She answered quietly, her features softening for a moment as she looked at him.

“Well then maybe we can help each other get answers then.” Bucky murmured back.

The pair studied each other for a few moments before a loud honk suddenly sounded outside. Gun shots rang out from underneath them followed by loud screams and shouts. Bucky, Zemo, Sam and Sharon looked around in confusion as the sound of hundreds of footsteps began to grew louder and louder. 

“Sorry kids, that’s my ride. Gotta fly.”

Within a few seconds the door burst open and hundreds of party goers flooded the room, shouting for help as they fled from the gun fire. Bucky glanced over to where *yn* had been only a few seconds ago to see that she was sprinting towards the only window in the room. 

Bucky pushed through the panicked crowd, watching helplessly as *yn* reached the raised window. She clambered up onto the ledge and shoved the window open. She glanced over her shoulder and the pair locked eyes when Bucky was practically within arms length of her. 

“I’ll be sure to send Doctor Nagel your regards, Buck.” She taunted. “We should do this again sometime, maybe without trying to hurt each other.” She smirked, sending him a wink before leaping off the ledge. Bucky scrambled up onto the ledge and poked his head out to see *yn* sliding down a pipe fixed to the outside of the building. 

He watched helplessly as her stilettos hit the ground. She approached a waiting motorcycle, the driver holding out a helmet for her expectantly. She took the helmet and slung her leg over the seat, sliding her helmet on as the driver throttled the engine. She looked up to the window and gave Bucky a wave before wrapping her arms around the driver’s waist.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed as he watched the motorbike peel off into the bustling street, going completely unnoticed by the rest of the public amid the chaos. 

“She’s gone?” Sam queried as the other three appeared beside Bucky at the window.

“Hm.” Bucky grunted, clenching his jaw in annoyance as he watched the motorbike disappear from sight. 

“She was kind of terrifying.” Sam remarked matter of factly. 

“I thought for sure she was going to gut you, James.” Zemo observed.

Bucky stayed silently, clearly brooding as he stared out into the street as Sam studied him in amusement. 

“I think Bucky’s in love.” 

PART TWO (NAGEL)

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

зимний солдат = winter soldier

Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать = Longing, Rusted, Seventeen.

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

I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH!?!? As always feedback is appreciated!!!! Please give it back here xx

[neonacity]

LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.3

LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.

Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?

A/N: Third chapter is here! Again, thank you to all those who are supporting the story. Once again, this is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.

Genre: yandere, horror, suspense

TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age. Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

“Insane madness of the living can be more, more terrible than the bloody hunger of the undead...”

― Silvia Liam

The rules of hunting down prey are simple. First, you observe to take note of their weakness, then you stalk...waiting for the right opportunity to take your shot. Hunting is more often about a game of time than aim sometimes. You jump too soon and you risk scaring your target to a successful escape, or you do it too late that you let them fully slip through your grasp. Hunting... has always been about perfect timing.

"You already know the rules of the game, right boy?"

The frail form of a seven year old child cowered against the foot of a dead tree, eyes shaking as it regarded the man leering at him. The sky was a deep dark velvet above them, and the only source of light came from the full moon that dipped in and out between the passing clouds. A bell dingled from the tight chain strapped around his left ankle when he moved, the sound causing the smile on the man's face twist into a wicked grin.

The hum of a gun being cocked sent the boy to give a choked sob. He shakily tried to stand up from his spot and pressed his palm against the rough bark of the tree to support himself, his wide eyes set on the looming form that has taken a step closer to where he stood.

"It's the first sturgeon moon tonight, so we are going to change the rules a little bit, okay?" Those words only made the child shake harder, the thin shirt he had now clinging to him like second skin due to the cold sweats gripping him.

"You run. And if I catch you, you die," the man cooed as he craned his face a bit to the side, causing the light from the moon to illuminate his features briefly. He looked handsome, inhuman, like he was one of the fallen souls exiled to earth at the beginning of times.

The man moved the arm holding his hunting gun and used it to lift the chin of the boy still cowering in front of him. He smiled—a smile so beautiful and dangerous it can make angels weep.

"But if you die, then your brothers will be the one running in this forest to take your place. So...make sure I don't catch you, hmm?"

Tears finally streamed down the bruised cheeks of the child as he realized what he was up to tonight. Eyes wide with fear, he pushed himself off the tree he was leaning on and started making a run for it.

He could still hear his words even as he dove deep into the woods, the bell on his feet masking his thundering footsteps.

"Seven bullets! You have one minute to hide, son~!"

Gunshots pierced the night air like a wailing scream.

------

Bang!

Jeno lowered his hunting rifle and let go of his breath slowly. Despite the shadows cast by the towering trees surrounding him, his eyes could still clearly see the slight flailing of the fawn he just shot before it went completely still. Above him, a flock of crows looked down on the fallen prey with their beady eyes, as if gauging the best time to dive for their feast.

He slowly picked himself up from his hiding spot, a wide oak tree with overarching branches that hid him from sight. He's been crouched there for a good half hour or so, just waiting for the fawn to finally circle the area. He's been observing it for the past week or so, taking note of its routes, and today he decided to make the kill.

Unlike other hunters, Jeno prefers the thrill that comes with stalking his prey over simply making a successful game. For him, the fun of hunting is in the process and not in its ending—a kill , after all, means nothing if you didn't work hard for it.

He looked down on the small fawn now as it lay lifeless on the mossy forest ground with its glassy eyes still open. Leaning over, he lightly pressed his hand over it to feel its heartbeat just to check if he killed it properly.

It was so beautiful and graceful just prancing in the forest a few days ago….it would be a shame if it suffers now.

"Hey, you got it?" A voice from the edge of the clearing made him look around. Haechan emerged from between the trees, his own hunting rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Yup. What did you get?"

The other boy lifted a brown sack and gave it a light shake.

"Got three rabbits. I'm too lazy to skin them here so I'll just ask Taeyong-hyung to do it. Want to go back now?"

Jeno turned to look back at the fawn in front of him briefly before finally shaking his head. He didn't really want to go back to the mansion yet, so he decided to just throw an excuse to the other for now.

"You go ahead. I'll just skin it right here," he said casually over his shoulder at his brother. Haechan, too cold and too bored to stay another minute in the humid woods, gave a wave of his hand before turning back. Unlike Jeno, he prefers the comforts and luxuries of the manor over anything else.

"I'll go ahead then. Try to get back before nightfall, the forest can be a dangerous place~" he said in a sing-song voice, knowing full well it was a useless warning he just gave.

Jeno simply ignored him and silently pulled his skinning knife from his belt so he could get to work. Nights in the forest have never scared him, he knew it like the back of his hand.

If anything, it is the creatures there who should be terrified of him.

------

You glanced over at Jisung and Chenle who were currently immersed in their readings over the page you’ve been scanning. The sun is about to set in just a few minutes and you have the last session of the day scheduled for the pair before you could pack up and go home. Your lips slightly quirked into a smile as you watched Jisung lean over slightly into the other to silently ask about something, Chenle looking up from his pages to roll his eyes before patiently answering. The two have such different personalities from each other, which adorably and ironically, makes them work so well together.

If you're going to be honest with yourself now, you'd say it is your time with the two youngest that you enjoy the most as Rosewood's tutor. Chenle and Jisung were withdrawn and shy at first, but the pair slowly started warming up to you as time went by. Maybe it's because they are younger, but you prefer the innocent air around them every time you would have your lessons. Chenle is the chattier and the more confident of the two, but with his help, even the shy Jisung also started lightly joking around with you on his best days.

That's not to say that you hate your time with the rest of the brothers. You've only ever had one session with Mark—which went so well as expected from the eldest—while the rest have always been polite and casual. There isn’t really anything about your job and connection with any of the boys that should put you on edge and yet... you have to admit that there are still those rare moments when you just feel as if something is out of place. You couldn't really place your finger on it, nor have you blatantly caught anything suspicious, but sometimes you just feel odd whenever you are around any of the four middle children. It’s something similar to being watched...like there is an imaginary pair of eyes always pinned to the back of your head, or the ghost feeling of hands hovering around your throat.

Your eyes flickered now to the grand clock on the far side of the room which finally struck five. Closing your own book which you have been scouring over, you called out towards the two who quickly looked up from their work.

"Alright, time's up. Have you answered the first two questions at least?" You asked with a smile. Chenle groaned and pointed at Jisung accusingly.

"I only got three questions because he kept disturbing me, noona."

Jisung frowned and you had to keep your laugh back with how offended he looked.

"Hey, I wasn't disturbing you. I was just asking questions."

"Okay, okay. Don't fight now. Do you want an extension for the chapter quiz? We do have our next lesson the day after tomorrow."

Their faces simultaneously lit up.

"Can we do that?" Chenle asked.

"Yes, but I'll have to leave you the assignment of reading another chapter and finishing the questionnaire for that as well. That'll be your homework, okay?" You tried your best to put on your best impression of a stern look, which only made the two giggle.

"Okay, noona."

"You promise you'll do it?"

Jisung put up his right hand and placed his left one over his heart.

"We promise."

That made you chuckle. "Well then, that will be all for today. I'll see you again tomorrow, okay? I'll have lessons with your brothers but just come to me if you have any questions." You gathered the rest of the papers that you have sprawled on the desk you were using before waving the two goodbye.

You were in the middle of trying to fit in a rather stubborn pile of files on your bag that you didn't really notice the tall figure that entered from the front door. When you finally looked up, it was already too late for you to stop crashing straight first into someone's chest, if not for the strong hands that held you steady. You felt an arm settle on your waist, and another on your back as you almost toppled when you hastily stepped back.

"Oh! I am so sorr—" you looked up with wide eyes to see Jeno looking down on you. Your words died in your throat when your eyes caught the red stain on his neck and you gasped.

"Jeno, what happened?!" Your voice raised in panic as you stared wide eyed at the blood running down the side of his neck. He gave you a slight look of confusion before raising a hand to touch the area you've been staring at.

"Ah… this…"

You didn't wait for him to finish. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and turned on your heels to drag him to the opposite direction. You didn't look back to see his surprised expression, and before he could even say anything, you had already pushed him into one of the expansive bathrooms down the nearest hallway.

"Sit there."

You pushed him urgently on the closed toilet seat before you proceeded to rummage on the hidden compartment behind the mirror that Taeyong showed you before. You quickly grabbed the box of first aid kit there and hastily opened an antiseptic wipe.

"Uhm...noona…"

You didn't pay him any attention, too focused on what you needed to do. You quickly kneeled in front of him so that you were more eye-level with each other before finally pressing the damp wipe against his injury.

"Shh. This might sting a little. We have to see how deep your wound is and stop the bleeding," you said, a small frown creasing your brows as your fingers gently dabbed at his skin. You were so focused on what you were doing that you didn't notice the light in his eyes shift as he looked at you closely. 

His gaze dropped to your slightly parted lips, then at the look of concentration on your features.

Are you...worried about him?

Your frown deepened as you finally managed to wipe most of the blood away from his skin. The antiseptic sheet you were using has already turned dark red from the liquid, but still you haven't—

"It's not my blood," Jeno said plainly, his voice suddenly sounding too close to you. You looked up to him in confusion, and for the first time you realized how close the two of you were. His gaze didn't waver from your face, pinning you into the spot where you are kneeling in front of him.

"Not your…"

"I was hunting. I was skinning the game I caught but my hand slipped and I hit a major vein. This is deer blood."

If your face wasn't burning after realizing how close the two of you were at the moment, it is definitely on fire now. You opened your mouth to say something, then closed it again in embarrassment. Jeno continued staring at you and you watched as his lips ever so slightly curled into a smirk.

That made you suddenly stand up from your crouch. He calmly followed you with his gaze, a mix of curiosity and amusement in his brown eyes.

"I-I'm so sorry. I thought you were injured so I panicked," you stuttered as your eyes fell on the bloody wipe that is still on your hands. You quickly ducked to throw it away just so you could avoid his gaze.

Jeno followed your every move closely before slightly leaning his head to the side. He seems to be mulling over something, face now devoid of any telling emotions.

"Were you concerned about me?" He asked, tone curious. You glanced at him in surprise, stunned that he would ask such a question. It was bad enough that you stumbled over your words when you finally managed a reply.

"Of course I was concerned. Anyone would be."

Jeno slowly stood up from where he sat and for the first time, you realized just how much he towered over you. It didn't help that the two of you were in a much smaller space than usual which sent a wave of claustrophobia to wash you over briefly. You involuntarily took a step back, eyes only high enough to meet the base of his neck.

"Why though?" He asked again, and you could genuinely hear the curiosity in his tone. You frowned. He was asking...as if he isn't used to such a level of care. As if things like this are so foreign to him.

"Because you are my student. And I wouldn't want to see anyone hurt."

For a moment, Jeno didn't say anything else. He simply looked at you while you tried so hard not to flinch under his heavy gaze.

Then, as if a switch had been turned, he took a step to the side to free some space between the two of you. Your eyes shot to his face when he did that, and you were met by his boyish smile that crinkled his eyes into half moons.

That made you blink. You see it on him whenever he is with the rest of his brothers, but it was the first time he ever smiled that way to you.

"Thank you, noona. I appreciate it."

It was as if a blockage in your throat dissolved all of a sudden. You smiled back, a sense of relief overtaking you.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I panicked, too."

"It's cute. Nobody has ever…" he trailed off before shrugging. "I guess, it's because we're all men here. So none of us are used to that kind of care."

You nodded slowly at that. It really must be hard...being in this kind of household. Now that you think about it, the boys are technically orphans.

"Anyway, I have to go. I need to get back before dark. I'm not really a big fan of night drives," you said as you picked up the bag you had haphazardly thrown into the sink in your panic earlier. Jeno simply watched you silently from where he stood.

"Make sure to be careful next time alright? Don't give anyone a heart attack again," you smiled before finally excusing yourself out. He smiled back and gave a nod of goodbye as you closed the door.

Jeno turned to the mirror in front of him and slowly touched the part of his neck where your fingers grazed earlier. It was cold now from the antiseptic you had rubbed, but he could still remember how good the warmth of your touch felt against his skin when you were trying to wash the blood away. He curled his fingers slightly over the area now, leaving half moon marks as his nails dug there.

Oh what he would do to have you touch him again.

-------

"Pretty neat, huh?" You grinned at Jaehyun as he parked the car in front of the manor. You watched as your boyfriend's eyes moved over the impressive facade of the structure in front of him, knowing full well that his architect training is kicking in.

"Not bad. Victorian-era, probably. The stones look old but the place looks pretty well-kept…"

You grinned to yourself now as you leaned back on your seat. Of course you have absolutely no reason to be proud of something you don't own, but you can't help but boast a little at your boyfriend. It is your workplace after all.

Jaehyun turned to his seat now to give you a slightly guilty smile. He sighed before reaching out for your hand.

"Are you sure you will be okay though? I'm sorry about borrowing your car all of a sudden, the timing is just so bad."

You gave his hand a squeeze before patting it with your other. He was supposed to go on a three day business trip away from the city when his car, all of a sudden, just wouldn't start this morning. He wouldn't make it if he waits for the shop to fix it so the both of you decided to just have him use yours for now. At least he has enough time to drive you to work, which is why the two of you now are parked outside the manor, 10 minutes before your first lesson has to start.

"Don't worry about it. I'll make sure to pick up your car later. I'll have the taxi drive me there."

Jaehyun glanced back at the mansion briefly.

"Are you sure you can get a taxi here though? This is pretty far off the main road…"

Well...to be honest, you weren't even really sure about that yourself but he didn't have to worry about it right now. You nodded and reached over for your bag with a smile.

"Yes. Or I'll just ask Taeyong for help if I can't get one. I'm pretty sure they have some taxi companies in contact."

Jaehyun still didn't look convinced but gave you a small nod nevertheless. His eyes were back to studying the house again which made you chuckle.

"Jae, I'll be fine. You have to go now or you'll be late to your conference. Thanks for driving me here," picking up the last of your things, you leaned over to give him a quick peck on the cheeks. He responded by pulling you over for a slightly longer kiss when you tried to move away.

"Yah, Jung Jaehyun. We'll both be late if you don't stop," you whispered softly with an amused tone. He laughed before finally letting you pull back.

"Just getting my fill of it since I won't see you in three days. Call me once you get home later, okay?"

"Mmn. Take care, too. Go get that deal closed," you gave him a wink before finally opening the passenger seat. You watched as he finally pulled away from the driveway and waited until he disappeared again on the long winding road before turning towards the manor again. You were almost at the front steps when the doors finally opened, spilling Haechan, Renjun, and Jaemin out of them. You frowned slightly as you took notice of the canvases they were carrying as you approached the group.

"Hey...are you going somewhere? Class is about to start." You asked curiously, eyes landing finally on the small leather bag that Renjun was carrying. It seems to be full of art supplies.

"We're doing a free art class today, right noona?" The eldest of the trio asked. You nodded, still a bit confused.

"Renjun suggested we do it in the garden since the weather is nice today," Jaemin finally said. "We think it'll be a nice change from the stuffy rooms inside," he slightly jerked his head back at the wide windows of the manor which are currently shut back with thick curtains. You glanced at them briefly too before nodding slowly in understanding.

"Oh… I mean… It's not a bad idea. We can have the first session outside while the sun is still bearable, I guess."

That made Jaemin, and most especially Renjun smile. The boy can be withdrawn most of the time, but you did notice that he looks happiest whenever you do creative classes.

"Thank you, noona."

"No problem. I'll just put my bag inside and then I'll follow you. Why don't you set up your things first?"

You've taken a couple of steps towards the front door already when Haechan suddenly spoke up.

"Who was with you, noona?"

That froze you on your tracks. Slowly, you turned to face the trio again. They saw Jaehyun drive off?

"Oh, that was my boyfriend. He dropped me off today," you said casually with a smile. Haechan leaned his head a little bit to the side in curiosity.

"But he took your car…"

"Yes, he did. His broke down so he had to borrow mine. He's leaving for a three-day trip so—" you stopped all of a sudden, realizing that you're explaining things too much. There's nothing wrong about what you said but there was still a part of you that made you feel a little...exposed. Jaemin, Haechan, and Renjun, fortunately, didn't seem to notice and continued to politely look at you.

"Anyway, I'll just grab a cab to go home," you continued with a smile. "There are some who stop by here, right?"

"Yes. Or we can just ask Taeyong-hyung to drive you. He is the only one who has a license among us," Jaemin offered with a casual shrug.

"Ah, maybe I'll have to bother him this one time if I can't get a cab," you said with a sheepish smile. "Okay, I do have to bring my things inside. I'll see you."

You have already reached the top of the steps before the double doors when you finally realized something. Quickly you turned to the three boys who were just about to disappear to the side of the house leading to the manicured gardens.

"Wait, where's Jeno?"

It was Jaemin who answered.

"Oh yeah. He can't come. He is on bed rest."

You frowned.

"What happened?"

Haechan snickered which caused Renjun to shoot him a reprimanding look.

"He got into a hunting accident," the boy explained as he barely tried to keep his lips from twitching with amusement. "He was foolish enough to get stabbed in the chest by a stag."

-----

You gave the oak wood door a few light taps before drawing your hand back to yourself. You still weren't sure if this is a good idea, and yet here you are standing outside Jeno's room, the expansive hallway making you feel too small and out of place. This is the first time you've been in this part of the mansion since you only ever roamed the lower floors for your classes, and you couldn't help but feel a little strange at the heaviness of the air clinging around you now.

Maybe it's because it is where the private quarters of the boys are, but the corridor was only slightly illuminated by dimmed lighting from the lamps on the walls. Everything was silent, and for a moment you wondered if you got the wrong door that Taeyong gave directions to when you told him you wanted to check on Jeno. You have already taken a step back and was about to turn away when you heard some rustling from inside the room. It was followed by a voice muffled by the thick wood separating you from the other side of the door.

"Come in."

You froze on your spot for a few seconds before finally managing to shake yourself to open the door before you slowly. Peering around it, the first thing you noticed was how big the room was—it looked more like a smaller section of a house than a private quarters. It was dark, but a quick look at it told you that it was mostly bare if you don't count the essentials, which is a simple desk by the side, a long couch, and, in the middle, a four poster bed.

Your eyes landed on Jeno who was looking at you with equal mild surprise. He was propped against the headboard of his bed, the light from the laptop on his lap illuminating his face. You noticed that he didn't have a shirt on, but most of his skin from the right shoulder down to his chest was covered by bandages.

"Hi," you smiled, suddenly feeling conscious now as you stepped into his room.

"Um. Hi. What are you…"

"I heard that you were injured so I just dropped by to check on you," you quickly answered to diffuse any awkwardness that is in danger of settling between the two of you. Jeno blinked, as if processing what you just said.

"Uh… sorry, I didn't realize that I might be disturbing you. I can also just go back another time and—"

"No," He said all of a sudden before you could excuse yourself. Quickly, he closed his laptop and put it away on his side. "You can stay for a bit."

"Oh...great. I uh…" your eyes roamed around his room once again, hoping to find a chair that is closer to his bed. There was none. You figured the couch was the only place you could go to so you started walking towards it, Jeno's eyes on you.

"You can sit here," he suddenly said and you looked up to see him pointing at the foot of his bed. That made you stop before glancing again at the couch at the farther side of his room, something which he immediately noticed.

"It's too far away. It'll be awkward for us to talk if you sit there,” he said, as if he read your mind. 

That...makes sense. With a slight nod, you closed the distance between you and the bed instead and chose to sit by its far end.

Jeno was back to watching you as you settled down, his expression curious. You softly cleared your throat.

"How are you feeling?"

He glanced down his chest briefly. "Oh, I'm fine. It didn't hurt as much during the weekend, but I was still told to stay in bed. I can't really move that much yet."

"What happened anyway?"

He scratched the back of his head almost sheepishly and looked away.

"I was trying to hunt a deer. I didn't know its mate was just around the area when I approached it so...yeah."

You winced as your eyes fell on his bandaged chest. You know next to nothing about hunting, but you know enough that an angry stag doesn't spell good news for anyone. Things could have been more serious for him.

"Are you sure that you shouldn't be in the hospital though?"

"Yes. We have a private doctor anyway. I just need to make sure I don't move too much to keep my wound from opening. And I also hate hospitals so I prefer to stay here…"

"You have to be more careful next time, okay Jeno? The forest is such a dangerous place…" you sighed before shifting your attention towards the window at the far wall of his room. He only had his curtains partially open but you could still see a sliver of the woods from where you sat.

Something about what you said shifted something in him. You missed it entirely thanks to the shadows from the room's dim lighting that masked his features, but it was there, hiding in plain sight.

"You take care of us so well."

You turned to him again as you heard him whisper something.

"What?"

Jeno simply smiled. He leaned back against the headboard, as if mulling over something.

"Since noona is worried about me, can you help me change my bandages?"

You blinked. That wasn't something you expected him to ask at all. Before, you figured Jeno to be one of the more withdrawn among the brothers, always with this air of intimidation about him, but lately, he has been throwing you off with these kinds of moments. He isn't flirty like Jaemin or sly and playful like Haechan, but he’s just so...direct. Almost pushy, sometimes. 

"I uhm… I don't know. I wouldn't know how to do it, maybe I can call someone and—"

You watched as he already started to undo the bandages on his torso, your eyes growing wide as he started to expose more skin.

"Jeno wait, I think we should call Taeyong for thi—oh my god."

Your words were cut off when he finally let the last of the bandages fall to reveal the cut on his torso. It started from his right chest, a few inches above the collarbone, and ran sideways to the middle where it cut off. Stitches held the skin together, and you could see the darkening sides of the flesh where it broke.

Yet it wasn't only that which caught your attention. Despite the dimness of the room, you could see other marks in his body, old scars that adorned his pale skin here and there. They varied in length and thickness, and you couldn't figure out what might have caused them. Were they from hunting accidents too…?

You immediately turned to look away. You didn't want to seem rude for staring. Jeno, however, seemed unbothered, if not mildly amused. Watching you through hooded eyes, he let you squirm for a little bit first before finally calling for your attention once more.

"Noona."

"Yes?"

"Help me, please?"

The tone he used on you finally made you turn with a slight wince, which only made him chuckle.

"You're not used to seeing injuries?"

"I'm not fond of them. I don't think anyone is."

“So let's get this over with then. I just need you to hold one side of the bandage for me while I wrap it again. It's hard when I do it alone."

You were about to open your mouth to say something again but chose to purse your lips after in the end. With a soft sigh, you finally picked yourself up from your spot by the foot of the bed to move closer to him. Jeno had already uncapped what looked to be a bottle of antiseptic at this point and had started to dab gently at his cut. You tried to watch without wincing too much as he tried to do the job, but it was probably too painful for him to move too much because he was missing a lot of it.

"Hey, just give me that. I'll do it," you asked as you gently took the cotton pad from him. Jeno wordlessly let you take it, eyes closely watching you as you ducked a little to clean his wound. You tried your best to keep your eyes on target, not allowing them to move anywhere else…

"It looks so bad… I'm surprised you can still move…" you whispered, more to yourself than to him as you frowned over it. You completely missed the way the corners of Jeno's lips ever so slightly tilted as your fingers brushed against his skin.

"Your fiance must have never gotten injured before, noona."

Your hand froze at what he said. Slowly, you looked up at him, only to see him smile at you.

"How did you…"

"Oh, Taeyong-hyung told us. He just reminded us to be nice to you or else you might quit. He said you are saving up for your wedding."

You didn't say anything at first after his explanation. There's nothing wrong about it, and it seems very in-character for Taeyong to say that since he seems to be the most worried about the possibility of you quitting. Still, you couldn't help the odd feeling that tugged at your chest, one you tried to shove back as you turned your attention again to what you were doing just so you could escape Jeno's gaze.

"Well… yes. I am saving up for it. But I also enjoy my time here… so far…"

Jeno smiled to himself as he looked down on you, eyes watching your every move.

"We'll behave too, we promise," he said softly that you almost didn't catch it.

"Until then, I'm sure your boyfriend wouldn't mind us borrowing you from him."  

----

"Jisung! Chenle! Don't run too far into the forest, okay?" Taeyong called out to the two boys who have already turned on their tails and have started running towards the woods. You watched as the two laughed and pushed at each other playfully before finally disappearing into the forest edge.

Taeyong sighed beside you and let the hands he had on his hips fall to his sides. You turned to him and he gave you an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry for suddenly asking you to watch over them. I totally forgot that I had to drive the rest to their dentist appointment today," he said with a scratch of his head. You simply shook a hand at him to wave him off.

"Don't worry about it. I don't have any other classes today anyway so I'll just wait here for them. But... uh... are you sure that it is safe for them to play there?"

"Yes. As long as they stay in the right zones. There are parts there where some wild animals might roam around this season but Jisung and Chenle already know that, don't worry. It won't be the first time they'll be going there too. They've been playing there since they were kids."

You nodded slowly, still a little bit unsure as your gaze floated over to the woods once more. If it were you, you wouldn't let them go near it, especially after what happened to Jeno.

"I'll have to go then. I promise I'll be back by 5. Then I can drive you back to town after."

You turned to look at Taeyong once more and gave him a grateful smile. You usually would have declined the offer under normal circumstances, but you honestly think it will be easier and safer for you to just have him take you back later.

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

The other nodded before giving you one last smile. Turning around, you watched him go to the car where Haechan, Renjun, and Jaemin were already waiting. Jeno was still in bed rest, so he is skipping the impromptu trip this time.

You only turned back to look at the woods ahead when you finally saw the black sedan disappear down the road. The forest looked foreboding in front of you, one look at it and you know there is no way you'll venture there in your own free will. With a sigh, you picked up the book you've brought with you and let yourself take a seat by the grass as you wait for Jisung and Chenle to return.

A sudden sharp caw that tore the air made you look up in surprise from the current chapter you were reading. You didn't have any idea how much time had already passed after you lost yourself in your book, but you were surprised to see that the sky had gone red over the horizon as a flock of crows soared from the depths of the forest. You watched as they circled just above the trees before finally disappearing far into the sky. That was when you realized it; it's been a while since Jisung and Chenle left.

With panic slowly creeping into your chest, you glanced at your watch then back at the mansion behind you. Taeyong didn't say anything about a curfew for the two kids, but your own sense told you that the pair should be back before night falls. Your gut told you that you should start looking for them, but the problem is that there is still more than half an hour left before Taeyong said they will return and the only other person left in the manor was Jeno—who can't even get out of bed. 

You swallowed. Before you could make any decision, however, a bone-chilling sound floated into the air that made your blood turn cold. It was faint at first, making you wonder if it was just your imagination playing tricks on you, but then it called out again, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

It was Chenle. Screaming.

You broke into a run without a second thought.

It took you everything you have not to topple over the uneven forest floor as you wove through the trees. You have no idea where you were going, your mind and vision reeling as you tried to follow the voice. Your skirt have caught countless times on shrubberies and wayward tree barks as you tore through the woods but you kept going, not minding the tears on the fabric and the skin of your legs.

"Chenle! Jisung! Where are you!"

You called out desperately when the cries suddenly stopped. You were only barely aware of your heart thundering in your chest and your lungs burning from overexertion.

No. No. Don't stop screaming. I can't find you if you do.

"Chenle! Jisung!" You called out again desperately as you stopped at the edge of what seemed to be a small patch of land that dropped off to a ravine. The trees beyond were denser than the ones at the edge of the forest and the already fading light of the day wasn't helping the thick canopies above you that rained shadows on where you stood. You looked around and swallowed thickly. Something inside of you told you to turn around and run again but you stayed frozen on your spot, waiting for any sound from the kids.

It took you a few more heartbeats to pick up something again. Jisung's voice sounded far off to your right, maybe about 15 meters from where you currently are.

"Noona! Help! Chenle fell down!"

Your adrenaline jumped into action again.

"Jisung?! Jisung! Wait—Is Chenle with you?” A soft voice called out and you breathed in as you recognized the latter's tone. “I'm coming! Don't stop calling for me, okay, so I can find you!"

You were about to turn away from the edge of the steep ravine you were still standing on when you felt your back hit something hard. Before you could even turn around to look at it, however, a blunt force hitting the middle of your shoulder blades sent you toppling forward, straight into the sharp fall beyond.

You screamed, before everything went quiet as your head hit the bedrock below.

---

A.N. GOD THIS WAS SO LONG IM SO GLAD IT IS FINALLY DONE.

Taglist:  @negincho,  @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore, @jsturkey​, @aj--7, @pukupukupawpau​, @tomiesgirlfren​, @vsszn

CHAPTER 4

[spectralpooch]

hi!! i'm a little too shy to leave a comment on your fic for everyone to see, so i'll put it here: i know that recent additions to canon have had you second guessing your writing and interpretations, but i just got done rereading your fic and i want you to know that i still sincerely believe that your choices are still spot-on! the divergence points thus far aren't as bad as you worry. i think of it simply as "oh, gilles showed up in this timeline!" and "oops, wataru missed keito's visits!" lol

im on the floor. ah. ahuifodijlkgrhgjhlklfhj. i will never recover from this ask. gootbye

i am going to return your love with a pile of my own ramblings, so for everyone else's sake, putting the rest of this ask under the cut!

first off: "i just finished rereading your fic" rereading??? 😭 that behemoth?? that is such a huge honor!!!!! i really hope that it holds up when you read it straight-through like that (not in one sitting i assume, but in a faster time frame than spread out over five months)

"oh, gilles showed up in this timeline!" ah, yes, a fellow gilles truther... it genuinely helped me cope and re-immerse myself in my "canon" when i arbitrarily decided that he was the key point of divergence between my fic and enstars canon. he set the events of blackbird into motion. he is the mastermind. he played wataru and eichi like pawns on a chessboard.

"oops, wataru missed keito's visits!" abhfdghb but fr, where was keito during blackbird? i really had to take a step back and mull over whether i'd missed something vital in pre-established canon--because i was certain that he'd be stuck to eichi's side like glue at this period in time? a possible explanation is that eichi just banned him from visiting... but if that was the case, i wish it'd been stated. because as it stands, it just feels like a plot hole to me </3

ahghh yep, i definitely went through a million stages of grief. i rly felt selfish for personally being disappointed in the new developments while everyone else was freaking out--not because i disliked blackbird/element, but because it was crushing to lose my canon-compliance. i know i've taken liberties with this fic, but i'd really tried my best to stick as closely to canon as possible and work under the pretense that "there's no evidence that things didn't happen this way"

but now that pretense is dead and gone! and i don't have to worry about it anymore. i'm still going to stick as closely to pre-april 2023 canon as possible, but the reality that this fic will never be canon-compliant does relieve some of the pressure i'd put on myself

(there are a couple of things i'm pondering yoinking from the new canon, however! i'm still pondering... but we'll see!)

it really, really, really, truly means everything to me that you still enjoy my plot and characterization. and it's incredibly reassuring that to hear that you think that i'm overblowing the canon divergence in my head. it's very grounding to hear an outside perspective on that, and i appreciate it so much

thank you so much anon ;-; i'm going to cherish these messages forever

also. for anyone reading this: don't save an ask as a draft. tumblr will send it to the shadow realm, never to be seen or heard from again. don't even bother looking for it. it's gone.

if it's an anonymous ask, you'll just have to copy+paste the text and send it to yourself. and feel like a complete fool.

[yellowcabdriver]

love language

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javier wants to love you the right way.

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warning: none

A/N: this was written in like 20 minutes before I went to sleep so sorry in advance for mistakes 🥲 Also, a kiss on a head for those who guesses Javier’s love language I tried to force in here 🥰🤣

“What form of love language do you prefer?”

You raised your head from the paperwork you had been filling out for what seems like an eternity.

“What?”

Elena shook some heavy-looking glossy magazine in her hand.

“There’s a test in here. Wanna find out?”

You went back to filing the report and shrugged your shoulders.

“How many love languages are there anyway?”

“Umm…” Elena quickly flipped through a few pages. “Five.”

Usually, you were not the one to indulge in magazines, especially not at work but… it had been a long day at the embassy. Very long. You spent the first part of the day typing out reports for Noonan, then you had to go to the archive and sew together some old documents in a badly lit backroom in the company of, you were sure of it, a ghost of someone who died in that backroom choking on an ungodly amount of dust. Your back was aching, high heels required by the dress code were straight up slaughtering your feet one step at a time. And also, you were bored out of your mind.

“Wow, okay.” You sighed and plopped down on a chair. “Sure, let’s see. I needed a break anyway.”

With a victorious shriek, Elena started reading out questions and marking the answers down on the pages with a pencil that desperately needed to be sharpened.

“Okay, you got…” her lips inaudibly moved as she was counting the results. “You got words of affirmation.”

“Oh, bullshit!” You threw your head back in sardonic laughter and stretched out your legs. “I don’t enjoy being complemented at all, I always get super uncomfortable!”

Elena shrugged her shoulders as she was erasing her pencil notes from the magazine.

“Maybe you do, somewhere deep down.”

“Nope, not a chance,” you snickered. “Your magazine is full of lies.”

“Hey!” Jokingly offended, Elena hugged the magazine to her chest. “It’s my only entertainment in this lifeless pile of paper!”

“What did you get then?” You asked, propping your cheek with your palm making you sound all muffled.

“Acts of service.”

“Well then, I’ll tell David to serve you up real nice.”

An enemy missile in the form of a crumpled piece of paper landed on your table.

“Oh screw you!”

“What’s the hustle?”

Elena and you immediately straightened up at the voice of a visitor who, upon further inspection, turned out to be your boyfriend, Javier.

“It’s just me, not Noonan,” he raised his palms slowly walking to your table as you two relaxed into your previous positions. Javier sat down at the edge of your table next to your chair and leaned down to kiss you on the forehead, this was his way of saying hello.

“Are you ready to go home?” He asked. Boy, were you ever.

“Of course, I am. So tired,” you complained suppressing a yawn. Javier smiled, soothingly stroking your hand.

“Let’s just go home, they don’t even pay us any overtime anyway,” Elena muttered, shooting a resentful stare at the piles of documents in front of her.

“By the way,” Javier turned to look at Elena. “David is downstairs, I think you’re gonna catch up.”

These words were enough for Elena to throw away her magazine, which honour she was just defending by violating a Geneva Convention of friendship, and bolt out of office without further ado. You and Javier looked at each other in amusement and burst into laughter at the same time.

“We should also go.”

“Yep, let’s go home.”

Nominally, “home” was Javier’s apartment, it was closer to the office and was overall much nicer than your place. Driving down the familiar street—the next turn after that yellow house, you were thinking, is home—Javier put his hand on your lap and asked you:

“Why were you arguing with Elena? Did she do something to you?”

“Oh, she did, she Inflicted the pain of knowing the content of a beauty magazine,” you half-heartedly complained, enjoying the warmth of Javier’s large hand on your thigh. Javier grinned at your remark.

“That harsh, huh?”

“We were just bored and decided to take a dumb test from the magazine.”

Javier chuckled as he quickly glanced at you, his yellow aviators catching a glimpse of the setting sun.

“About what?”

“Something about love language.”

“And what about it?”

“Well, found out that my love language is apparently words of affirmation.”

The car slowly stopped in the driveway as you reached Javier’s apartment building.

“Really?” He smiled at you, kissing the back of your hand. You almost melted at the gesture of his casual affection.

“Yes, who would’ve thought, right?”

Javier laughed again, exiting the car and jogging to your side to open the door for you. You jumped down and placed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth as a thank you.

“So it means you need to hear words of affirmation every day? Like your Cleo?” Javier asked, locking the car doors and turning slightly to look at you with a smile. You snorted. “Your Cleo” was a plant sitting comfortably on a windowsill of your office. She was a dying little thing until you saved her from being literally abused in the dark hallway of the embassy. Once you got her into a well-lit room and started watering her properly with actual water and not residue 3-in-1 coffee, Cleo turned into a stunning blooming beauty. You did talk to her, mostly paying her compliments—yes, weird, but you read somewhere that plants responded to positive affirmation. Javier, of course, didn’t believe any of that but for you, and he highlighted that specifically, he would greet Cleo every now and then when he entered your and Elena’s office.

“I am not like Cleo!” You huffed, making Javier smile as he hugged you by your waist and you two started walking towards his apartment. “But I believe everyone flourishes under kind words, don’t you think?”

Javier opened the door to his place and let you enter first.

“That’s a fair point, hermosa.”

The evening went by as it usually did: you two ate a dinner that Javier quickly put together—you maybe were a better cook but a slow one, for sure. Then you went to put Javier’s clothes into a washing machine, a dreadful loud thing that was tumbling around so hard you were afraid it would explode, while Javier washed the dishes. Finally, you two settled on the coach to watch some classic evening telenovelas because nothing relaxes a person more than an intricate plot of a tv show where somehow everyone ends up being everyone’s relative.

You were very engulfed in an episode—main character shot a man who turned out to be her biological father,—when Javier quietly asked:

“Am I saying enough compliments to you?”

“What?” You let out an involuntary laughter but as you turned to look at Javier, he didn’t seem to be joking.

“You said your preferred love language is words of affirmation and I’m… cariño, you know I’m not good with words,” Javier let out a bitter chuckle rubbing his temple—a nervous habit. “Am I showing you enough love?”

Oh.

Oh.

That you didn’t expect.

You turned the volume down and quickly climbed on Javi’s lap. He uncomfortably glanced up at the ceiling with a vulnerability you never saw him exude before. You could see something you would believe was more of your thing—an insecurity of being not enough.

“Javi, please, look at me,” you took his face in your hands and he immediately left a quick kiss on your palm, like a reflex.

God, that man was gonna be the death of you.

“Javi, my love, I never said anything about my preferences, it was just a dumb magazine. And besides, I don’t need to hear compliments, you know I can’t even take them well!” you said causing Javier knowingly to raise his eyebrows in agreement. Your left hand found its way to the back of his head and into his soft curls making Javier groan quietly.

“I love you so much and I love your ways of showing affection. I feel loved, if anything I feel adored.” You let your right index finger trace his aquiline nose and Javier closed his eyes at your tender touch. You began to press soft kisses all over his face.

“You love me so well, Javier Peña. You are so caring, so wonderful, so handsome, and sooooo sexy…” you exhaled as your kisses reached his jaw and you felt him smile. “I love you, Javi. So so much.”

Javier opened his eyes and pulled you in for a proper kiss.

“I love you, too, mi corazon,” his hands gently squeezing your thighs.

As this gesture pressed you closer, you felt the tightness in his jeans. Jokingly widening your eyes you glanced down, between your bodies, as Javier offered you a shy boyish grin.

“Ohh, but I see that someone else’s love language is definitely words of affirmation.”

Javier’s hands slid under your shirt and tightened around your waist as he began to leave open-mouthed kisses on your neck prompting you to let out a shamelessly loud moan.

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to mention that,” he softly said, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “I really love to hear your praise, mi amor.”