#cat nip - not even once

[pharawee]

🐧🌿🐈‍⬛🍴

—CAGED AGAIN · Episode 07

[littleapplle]

rafayel's lemurian behavior hc's!!

cw.: NSFW. 1.8k w. raf is mentioned more like a scary sea creature than like a pretty merman, this might have some ooc content for lemurians, mentions of sex, heat, raf has two dicks... ops... mentions of oviposition. not really monsterfucking but i'll tag it just in case.

note: "bloom will you ever shut the fuck up about lemurians? no. no i will not.

He's overprotective. Lemurians, as social as they are around their own species, can be quite territorial when it comes to their mates. Rafayel is all over you as soon as he views something as a threat. Thomas greeting you at an art exhibition? There’s a hand slipping to your waist and he glares at his manager over your shoulder. The poor college student that works at the cafe you two like smiled at you while you ordered your favorite drink? He’s clinging and nuzzling to you with a pout. A stray cat meowed at you for more pets? Oh he might as well pass out.

He showers you with gifts. Rafayel is obsessed with you alright. This is also related to how jelly he can get! Someone hit on you? You wake up with a pretty box with some kind of new jewelry by the door of your apartment. And they’re always one of a kind, too. No one’ll ever wear the same pair of earrings, bracelet, anklet you do, Rafayel commissions it all from the best jewelers he knows.

^ This is a very personal hc but i think that before you entered Rafayel’s life, he lowkey hated the fact his tears turned into pearls for the simple fact it can get messy and it was harder to hide his shame and weakness. After you showed so much interest in them though, Rafayel didn’t bother to kick the shiny pearls under the couch or bed or throw them away. In fact, he starts to collect them in tiny bottles and makes jewelry out of it. His favorite is the anklet he gifted you, a simple silver chain with two tiny pearls as pendants.

He's constantly nuzzling you. Lemurians have amazing senses even out of water and his sense of smell wouldn’t be any different. Rafayel LOVES the way you smell naturally. No cologne, no lotion. Just your skin. If you two are cuddling, he’s 100% with his head buried on your neck while breathing deeply and drowning on the scent. Lemurians are super touchy with their mates so just let him be and he’ll be overjoyed. You can even hear a happy chirp or two escaping him if you pay enough attention.

He insists on dragging you to the ocean. There are two things Rafayel adores– you and soaking underwater. If you agree to spend some quality time with him on the open ocean, he is overjoyed. You’re terrified of deep waters? Don’t worry!! Trust him!! He’ll help you float around, webbed hands always ghosting your waist and lower back to ground and comfort you while he swims under you happily. 

His true form is comically huge. I’m talking about like. 7 feet. He loooooves to wrap himself around you like a snake and keep you close like you’re his personal heater. OR! He floats on his back and lets you lie on top of him like a seal and its baby. You just look so tiny compared to him… he can’t help but want some snuggles.

Still on the anatomy topic, his skin is inhumanely pale. Living in the deep, there isn’t much sunlight nor does he need it so he is naturally very pale. It’s more like… kind of translucent, you can’t see his organs like some fish but you can clearly see his bluish veins. His teeth are super sharp and strong, too. Biologically, it’s for hunting, since it helps with cracking clams and other stuff open. Nowadays? He just torments you with them, of course! I believe Rafayel is a biter. A soft one, but he definitely nips on your skin if he’s upset or wants your attention.

^ Since i mentioned his teeth, it’s also valid to mention his mouth is also huge. It looks normal when he has it closed or when he’s talking but once he yawns, your eyes jump open. A thin membrane, where his cheeks would be, stretches his mouth much further than what would be considered natural and makes his shiny teeth noticeable. If it’s hard to visualize, think of it as the buccal flap some reptiles have!

He gives you his scales. Once, when you two were at the beach, you complimented how they looked under the sunset light, the purples and blues shining against the last bits of natural light beautifully, without much thought. Poor you just didn’t know this is a way of courting in lemurian culture and ohhhhh Rafayel’s brain MELTED. He couldn’t even react, stupid fish just nodded and looked away with a shy pout.

^ After that, he regularly gives you the older scales that shed from his tail. Please keep them all safe somewhere, it makes his stomach flip with joy. 

He hisses. Not at you, never, but you’ve caught his pupils turning into slits and a snake like hiss coming out of his mouth while he’s on the phone with a random collector once or twice now. 

He has a terrible temper during his heat. Lemurians go into heat in early spring, when the waters are slightly warmer, and Rafayel is no exception. The week before the heat actually kicks in, he’s super stressed. He gets petty, gives Thomas an attitude and threatens to burn his whole studio down and then, as soon as you’re by his side, his eyes are already spilling delicate pearls. His skin is hot and sweaty like it usually is during ebb day and all he wants is to soak in his tub or sea.

Which leads to the next topic! Can’t find him in his studio? Call his name at the beach! He’s curled onto his own tail underwater all hot and bothered but he’ll come crawling for you in a second… and drag you with him. Don’t know how to swim? And who said you’re leaving his grasp? Can’t hold your breath? Just kiss him! He just needs you close and it’s not like you can move anyway. His tail wraps around your legs like a predator ready to strike and he is babbling in lemurian while nuzzling on your cheek and chirping.

He courts you! During the week before his heat, his gifts are even more overwhelming. Oh look! He just finished a portrait of you! And here’s a new pair of pearl earrings, please use it. Don’t forget the delicate necklace with his initials. Oh and- you get the point. Underwater though? He will blow bubbles to make you laugh and sing you the sweetest lemurian love songs. You’re already his, he knows that, but his instincts act quicker than what his brain can think right now. It’s cute, really. He acts all confident and pretends he has some self control left in his body just so you can clap and praise him.

Some think lemurians have venom glands, but it is a myth! Lemurian mating is mostly romantic and they are bound to a mate for a lifetime, it’s not just with the intention of reproducing. So, they don’t have the need to hold down or paralyze their mates completely. That doesn’t mean you’re safe from his sharp teeth, though. He can hardly think for himself, have some mercy. Rafayel just needs a trigger to sink his teeth on your shoulder blade. You smell good? Bite. You barely have time to struggle and scold him before he’s already lapping at your bloody skin as an apology.

As for his actual heat, if you really insist, he’ll have sex with you in his studio– doesn’t matter where. But if you don’t mind and trust him, please, please, let him have his way with you in the water. He’s too desperate to breathe the land’s sticky and heavy air. Asks you a million times if you’re actually sure and that he can’t really hold back once you let him touch you. And if you consent? Say goodbye to rational Raf.

Now, i want to mention his anatomy once again to clear a few things up. His tail has a slit where his cock, in his human form, would be. The scales around it are softer, slimy and the slit produces a LOT of slick when he’s aroused. And where are his cocks? Inside, of course! Dooooon’t be shy, finger him for a bit and his cocks will come out in a second, standing tall and proud against his lower stomach.

^ Lemurians have hemipenis. Some animals have double reproductive organs for the sake of their species, if one of them is damaged, there’s still the other one for breeding. Lemurians, on the other hand, have a ‘smaller’ dick that’s more human looking and is used for pleasure and penetrative sex, while the other, found under the first one, is bigger, longer, ridged and it’s exclusively for breeding and burying his eggs inside you.

^ His ‘human’ cock isn’t exactly small, honestly, nothing about Rafayel’s true form is. I’d say it’s close to 7.68 inches (19,5 cm) when fully hard. It’s really pretty too! Just looks like his human form dick, maybe the base is kinda bluish and there are a few soft scales here and there but that’s it. Now, about the other one…it’s big. 12.5 inches (31 cm) okay… don’t worry though. He produces so much slick it won’t hurt much. I wouldn’t say it is pretty, it’s… uncommon! Interesting! But not pretty. It’s tinted in a nice deep blue that gets lighter on the tip and the base is pretty scaly. Not only is it big but it is very thick too. It’s an ovipositor, it has to have enough space for his eggs without squeezing them too much. 

^ Since i mentioned eggs, it’s good to mention that i don’t think they’re big… It does cause some discomfort at first because your womb will consider it as foreign body once they all snug inside you but I don't think it’s enough to cause pain. The shells are squishy, slimy and translucent and they’re the size of a date. Around 3-6 eggs i think… though not all of them are fertilized.

^ And on the fertilized eggs topic, I don't think Rafayel is able to actually impregnate you in this form. Your body just isn’t made to bear eggs and conclude the fertilization process. He does like to try though! And it’s not like his dumbed down brain can process any of this right now. Also, don’t worry, the eggs will come out of you naturally. After a few days without getting any nutrients, they turn into mush inside you and come out of you mixed with your discharge. 

^ That does not mean Rafayel can’t get you pregnant though! If you actually want children, his human form works just fine.

After his heat, which usually lasts a week, he is super clingy. He knows you’re not pregnant and doesn’t need this much doting but he’s just so happy you put up with all his needs. He showers you, lets you rest, kisses any and all bruises and bites he may have left… anything for his bride.

⊹ ࣪reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you for reading!(*´▽`*)

[cattolino]

the morning after. — (hyung line)

pairing: hyung line x f reader. genre: suggestive to explicit, fluff.

(this fic has been crossposted on my insta @cattoleeno)

for maknae line; here. scenario: the following morning after your first intercourse with them.

Chan.

The sheets felt soft and smelled fresh, indicating they were different ones from last night’s considering the fervid lovemakings that lasted until sopping traces of dried, filthy substances seeped into the bedding. Fervid, because both you and Chan had been too lost in the moment to even spare a little bit of time to close the curtains, and now the morning sunlight bathed your pillows in its warmth, pulling you slowly from dreamland.

Despite having been stone cold sober the night prior, the recollection of what had happened after the intercourse was vague. And it was all on Chan for having instigated a few more rounds after the first until your mind had been all but befogged with euphoria. The only thing you could remember in the fuzzy state was that he’d scooped you off the bed and carried you to the bathtub. Everything else was an outright blur.

However the clean sheets and clean clothes said enough of how well he’d treated you, leaving no room for complaints.

The bed quaked as Chan stirred behind you. His bare, solid chest flattened against your clothed back, his arm crept around your abdomen, and his face nestled into the back of your neck. The sound of his soft snoring followed soon after.

You reached down to intertwine your fingers with his, inadvertently rousing him from sleep once again.

“You awake?” His voice was a few octaves lower than his normal speaking voice which you found insanely attractive.

It wasn’t the first time you heard it. Sometimes he would call you early in the morning and you’d hear the exact same tone. But it was the first time you heard it while lying beside him—in his arms and in his bed, while he was shirtless, while his breathes fanned against your neck, while you just gained your consciousness, while you could still vividly remember from the time he’d discarded pieces of your clothes one by one the night prior. You thought you’d lose your mind.

You sighed, “mhm.”

“Hmm.. sleep more.” But his body betrayed his words. He tugged at the collar of your shirt—his shirt—a little to the side with a gentle nip of his teeth, allowing him more access to your bare shoulder. He draped a leg over your side and pulled your lower half towards his own. His thumb caressed the back of your hand as he left a trail of pecks along your shoulder.

It felt almost sweet, until he was grinding against you and you realized that his morning wood was incessantly poking your buttcheek. Occasional sighs escaped between your chuckles, “baby, you need help?”

Your question restored his bearings that had briefly slipped for a moment there.

“I’m sorry,” he snickered, realizing how sudden his arousal turned up after having just told you to come back to sleep, “don’t worry, it’ll go away by itself.”

And so you spent the rest of the morning in bed, only waking up when the sun was high. Specifically, when Chan started to kiss up your jaw and neck, nipping and sucking, way too passionate to be called innocent wake-up kisses.

Minho.

Waking up to an empty bed after an intimate night did nothing but ruin your mood.

You were wrapped warmly in a blanket that reeked of Minho, almost as if he was there with you. But your arms swept across the mattress in search of a sign of him only to be disappointed. Before your anxiety ascended at the thought of him leaving you all alone, a shuffling sound outside the bedroom alerted you of another presence.

As you made your way towards the door that was left partially open, you discovered traces of clothes and undergarments strewn across the floor. You looked down at yourself, fully clothed in cat print pajamas. You didn’t even realize. He must’ve dressed you after a bath last night.

An appetising smell of chicken stock pervaded the air when you stepped out of the bedroom. Minho was in front of the stove, back facing you. On contrary to your fully clothed body, he only sported black boxers that hugged his ass tightly, leaving the rest completely naked.

The back muscles moved like a wave as he was stirring something on the stovetop, probably a chicken stew or porridge. You couldn’t be too sure. What you could be sure of was the scratches across his bare back, some were shallow and the others were a little deeper. Courtesy of your nails digging and raking the previously smooth back the night before. Although it wasn’t entirely your fault since he’d made you cry and choke with utmost pleasure.

His neck was embellished with purple marks, making your hand subconsciously reach up to touch your own neck that was marked with just as many love bites.

You sneaked behind him, encircling your arms around his torso and squishing your cheek against his ruined back. He was unfazed at the sudden intrusion.

“How did you sleep?” He asked with one hand stroking the back of your hand while the other remained busy stirring the dish.

“You know I hate waking up alone,” you huffed, “I thought you left.”

He tittered at your complaints. He took half a spoonful of the chicken porridge he was making and tasted it, before turning off the stove. He loosened your arms and turned around to face you, walking you back until your ass was in contact with the island counter behind you.

Keeping his hands on your waist, he inspected you from head to toe with an impish smile, “in my defense, you looked so cute sleeping in my pajamas I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” he carded a hand through your hair and kissed your forehead, “you should stay the night more often.”

You relaxed in his hold, both palms running absentmindedly along his biceps, “and what, let you make me stay up all night again?”

“Oh, but you loved it?” His cute, crooked front teeth that were shown off as he grinned might be the reason why one of your hands pinched his cheek without thinking. He giggled at your impulsive move.

You nodded with a small laugh, “never said I didn’t.”

You were hot on his heels for the rest of his breakfast-prepping. You’d help him clean up and set the table, before following him around again, completely attached to him. And sometimes, he would pat your head, rub your back and kiss you here and there throughout.

And when it was time to sit down and eat, he insisted you sit on his lap.

Who are you to say no?

Changbin.

“Binnie, I’m trying to make breakfast.”

And it was repeated umpteenth time in case the man who was clinging to your back like a koala to a tree trunk thought the sunny side ups on the stovetop were for decorations.

The toasts had already been plated prettily on the counter with slices of ripe avocados, two cups of black tea weren’t as hot as you’d prefer but still warm enough to soothe your stomach. It was a simple breakfast for two reasons, one of them was it was easy to make and the second was because your boyfriend’s kitchen lacked a little bit of everything for any other filling breakfast menus.

It would take you less than half an hour to set everything ready on the table and have a slow morning to spend with Changbin, but the latter didn’t look and sound interested if the firmer grasp around your body and his whines were anything to go by. It was as if you were met with a completely different person from last night; who’d made you sob and writhed under the mercy of his harsh poundings.

“Let’s go back to bed…” there it was again, his petulant, complaining whine that discreetly had your heart trembled.

You hummed to swallow down the smile, unyielding in your stance, “and what?” You turned off the stove and turned around, putting the cooked eggs carefully atop of the sliced avocados so it wouldn’t slide down and ruin your plating. Changbin might not put all his weight on you and actually put an effort to drag himself around behind you, but his arms around your middle still restricted you to move more freely. “Once we’re in bed again we both know what will happen.”

“Your fault,” he huffed out a sigh. He didn’t have to fill you out why.

You were wearing the white dress shirt he’d worn last night with nothing underneath. So when he’d walked out the bedroom earlier, morning-kissed by an alluring view of your curves that were presented through the sheer materials, he thought it was only natural that he’d feel something tingly stir in his stomach.

“You look fucking amazing,” the low moan he breathed out against your neck was deliberate, “gorgeous.”

“Not that I haven’t worn your clothes before,” you tried to argue, affectionately.

“Not my dress shirt.”

It’d be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy his desperation to your unintentional seduction.

“Breakfast later,” he grumbled, one hand eventually giving in to its willpower and slipping beneath the hem of the dress shirt. The pad of his fingers massaged your inner thigh and rode up to press gently onto your swollen folds, “please?”

“But you need to leave in like—” you paused, dragging him along with you as you stepped into the living room where the clock was hung on the wall above the tv, “less than two hours.”

“That’s all I need.”

Feeling how your back was finally relaxed against him, Changbin walked you to the bedroom.

Breakfast could wait.

Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was sitting on the window nook with a sketchbook on his lap.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hands, and for a moment, his pencil stilled in the air an inch from the paper of his sketchbook as his eyes were locking on your figure. The corner of his lips tilted up at the sight of you struggling to prop your upper half on your elbows and of your face scrunched in annoyance to adjust to the morning sunlight.

“G’morning, princess.”

You blinked rapidly in an attempt to keep away the blur in your field of vision, slowly regaining your eyesight and seeing Hyunjin smiling at you. The outrageous morning sunlight didn’t seem outrageous anymore when it poured softly around his frame like a halo. You blinked again, trying to take in the full view of his naked upper half washed beneath the warm rays.

Dragging the comforter along, wrapping the thick blanket around your naked form, you climbed out the bed and limped your way towards him.

Lifting his sketchbook off of his thighs, he spread his legs wide to beckon you into sitting in his lap. The pillow that was situated between his back and the wall was squeezed up as you flumped down into the space between his legs, back pressing against his chest and head on his shoulder.

One of his palms smothered towards your inner thighs and gently massaged the area to soothe the soreness he’d caused the night before, all while pampering you with featherlike smooches along the surface of your exposed shoulder, making you giggle. He pecked your cheek and let his chin fall on your shoulder.

Placing his sketchbook down on your lap, he resumed the sketch where he’d left off.

“Did you sleep well?”

You nodded and yawned, slowly dozing off again in the comfort of his arms, “why are you up so early?”

“Would’ve slept more, but I felt like drawing.”

Your eyes fluttered open at his words, trying to adjust to the bright sunlight now that you were right next to the window. You looked down at his drawing in curiosity, slightly tilting your head.

Hyunjin put his pencil down once again to let you see the whole of his sketch. You blinked, your brows wrinkled, and your lips puckered into a small pout at the pencil lines on the cartridge paper.

Because the sleeping figure in his rough, unfinished sketch was you. And you lit up instantly.

“That’s me!” You chirped happily. There were countless sketches of you, some of which you had put up on your bedroom wall to gaze at his talent on daily, and some others were kept neatly in a file folder on your bookshelf. But every time, you were excited to see more.

It felt good to see yourself through his eyes.

Your fingers gently ran down the textured paper, simply amazed, “this is like, what, the fifth drawing of me sleeping? Specifically sleeping?” And it was only the second month of your relationship.

He laughed, shyly burrowing his face on your shoulder, “I hope this doesn’t come off creepy. But I love watching you sleep.”

[dollniu]

guilty pleasure.. — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS — things that secretly turn jjk men on!

CHARACTERS — sukuna, gojo, ino, hakari, higuruma, choso, toji

CONTENT — skirts, stockings, whispering, ear-biting, scent, neck kisses, lingerie, nipple play, praise kink, licking, choking, biting, bondage

A/N — MDNI 🔞, if you have any suggestions for posts reblog or comment 💋

RYOMEN SUKUNA

- neck. he lovesss neck kisses, especially while you’re riding him

- lips. anything to do with his mouth on you, biting, licking, sucking, eating you out, all of it

- clothing swap. he gets off seeing you in his robe, he hates how hard he gets from seeing you 🤭

- vocal. loves it when you scream his name, makes him go even harder 😋

- degradation. he’s less than nice in bed and will make you feel like a pathetic little sex toy to him, calling you cruel names just for his own pleasure 🤭

- sadism. the sound of him spanking your ass, the yelp of pleasure you make when ever he slaps you, pushing your head into the pillow whenever he fucks you from the back.. he can’t get enough.

SATORU GOJO

- scent. he loves ur scent, the perfume/cologne you wear makes him weak to his knees.

- accidental touch. he loves it when you touch his lower back, he always gets embarrassed when he arches his back and lets out a little gasp of desperation 🤭

- angry sex. he finds it hot when you’re mad at him, like he could fuck the anger out of you and have you going from angry to begging

- teasing. seeing you squirm whenever he gets so close to you, touching you in places where he definitely shouldn’t be, dirty talking, he loves seeing the flush in your face!

- clothed sex. loves it when you grab his dick through his pants 😋

- breast play. this man LOVES TITS, he will plunge his face into his tit and swallow them while playing with your nips and still get hard.

KINJI HAKARI

- cat ears. secretly loves cat ears and will def fuck the shit out of you while you wear them

- shorts/skirts. he’s an ass kinda guy so seeing your ass poke out through tight short shorts or mini skirts sends him into a frenzy

- choking. while he’s fucking you from the front with his hand wrapped around your neck 😫

- lingerie. spoils you in expensive victoria secret lingerie that he picks out just for you, he loves seeing you slowly take it off in front of him

- pinning. pinning you against the wall is probably his favorite thing to do, seeing you struggle to move against his grasp gives him a hard on immediately

TAKUMA INO

- cockwarming. this man can’t get enough of how good you feel when you’re wrapped around his dick, your pussy swallowing his length like a good girl 🤭

- begging. this man will BEG for you to let him cum and he loves it, it goes both ways as well. he loves seeing you under him, a complete mess, fucking you while you’re begging for him.

- blindfolds. silk ribbons wrapped around your eyes leaves you on edge, wishing you knew where he’d touch you next, where he’d lick you, how he’d fuck you, just what he’ll do to you.

- dry humping. the intimacy of it all feels so filthy, but ino absolutely loves it. the friction of the cloth between you too is so hot for ino and he will do it whenever y’all are lying in bed together!

TOJI FUSHIGORO

- raw. this man will fuck you raw and never uses a condom (no lube no protection!) the feeling of him pounding you and feeling your slippery walls wrap around his dick is an immediate orgasm for him

- daddy kink. we’ve all called toji daddy at least once and it’s all he needs to be fucking you all night long.

- face fucking. there’s nothing toji loves more than slamming your face down his huge dick! and he always cums and makes sure you swallow all of it. 😋

- size difference. we all collectively know that toji has a big ass dick, plus he’s just huge in general! he’s the type of guy to get off just looking down at you as you look up at him with fuck me eyes.

CHOSO KAMO

- overstimulation. our sensitive man choso LOVES being overstimulated. he will go round after round even after cumming 10 times consecutively.

- praise. he loves holding up your face when he’s fucking you and staring into your eyes, telling you how good you’re taking him. “such a good girl”

- edging. it goes both ways. leaving you on the brink of cumming only for him to stop just before you’re about to release just to see you begging on your knees. but when he’s getting the most toe-curling blow job or handy? edging him is the most pleasurable yet hated thing to do to this man and he will be left a whimpering MESS.

- hair pulling. when he’s eating you out, he loves it when you grip at his scalp and push him further into your cunt!

HIROMI HIGURUMA

- 69. we all saw this coming, our big nosed king loves pleasuring you while eating you out. sitting on his face while he can barely breathe can make him cum just thinking about it. but while he’s getting a blow job too? orgasm after orgasm.

- maid dresses. it was a secret he kept to himself until he saw you all prettied up in a maid dress where he lost all self-respect and fucked the shit out of you

- glasses. he loves seeing the way your glasses fall down your face while he’s fucking you against the wall. plus it’s just a preference

- thigh riding. he loves the sounds you make whenever you’re riding his thigh, desperate to cum and pussy practically drooling all over his thigh? his absolute favorite.

- face sitting. like i said before, this man loves oral sex. like he WILL keep eating you out even when you’ve already came, that’s how much he loves your taste ♥️

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; fem!reader + daddy kink

shoko smoking a cigarette while she's fucking you with her strap.. chuckling at the way you're drooling into the pillow,, she's got a knee on the bed while her other leg is propped up on the mattress, so she can reach even deeper, so she can fuck you even better. her free hand kneads the plush flesh of your ass, slapping it every once in a while just to hear you whimper her name. it's like music to her ears, she fucking loves it.

throwing her hair over her shoulder, she leans forward, her strap now slotted so deep inside you that you feel it in your throat. her tits press against your back and you arch up into her on instinct. she takes the cigarette from her lips and places it onto the ashtray right next to the bed, just so she can get closer to you.

her pace turns into a slower one, simply grinding her hips into yours as she kisses your sweaty temple. "does it feel good, hm?"

your grip on the sheet below you tightens, the flame in your stomach burning brighter at the sudden proximity. your mind is hazy, your thoughts all jumbled inside your head, so you give her a faint nod, hoping that'll be enough.

shoko's lips trace down the side of your face and your body moves all on its own, leaning into her touch like a cat in heat. you feel her smile against your skin. "c'mon, use your words, baby... tell daddy how you feel."

her voice is raspy, the coo trickling from her lips like sticky goo, trapping you under her indefinitely. you're burning all over; the rays of sun that peek from between the curtain cradle your faces, they illuminate the pleasure painted onto your expressions. shoko places another kiss right in the middle of a light patch right on the corner of your lips and it all feels unreal.

she presses you down further into the mattress, the sweat of your bodies mixing together as she continues rocking into you. the words get stuck in your throat and she laughs at your cute, fucked out expression.

the sound makes you want to take a peek at her and you regret the decision to do so immediately, because she's right there, staring down at you with low eyes, her lips swollen from all of the kisses you stole but a mere hour earlier. the makeout session escalalated fast – with you sat on her lap, nipping at her neck and her mouth hungrily, all while whining about her not paying enough attention to you, it was impossible for it not to go from one to a hundred. you asked for this. begged for it.

the marks on her neck are darker now and she looks fucking heavenly. her lipstick is smudged, a droplet of sweat dribbling down her forehead – there's a sick little grin glued to her lips, the kind that lets you know that she's so fucking far from being done with you, despite the numerous orgasms she's pulled from you already.

when you still can't muster up a single word, she slithers a hand into your hair and gives it a tug strong enough for you to raise your head from the bed. you hiss at the faint tinge of pain and she lets out another raspy laugh – she likes seeing you like this, she loves ruining you. with her mouth latched onto your jaw, you feel her wet and warm tongue draw shapes into your skin.

"aw, has daddy fucked you dumb already, baby?"

the coil in your stomach tightens at her words and you don't even try to hold back the filthy moan that spills from your sore throat. she gives your hair another tug and you know she expects a proper answer and that there will be consequences if you don't give her one. so you try to hold her gaze with everything you've got, tears brimming in your lashline from how much everything is starting to become.

"so– so good."

you sound pathetic and you know it. her grin widens.

"who's making you feel so good?"

"you are."

her lips brush over the shell of your ear.

"who is?"

she angles her hips, making the tip of her silicone cock hits the spongy spot inside you that makes your eyes go cross. "i– fuck."

her hot breath fans your face, her fingers still twisted around the strands of your hair as she waits for your answer.

"daddy is."

you bite down onto your lip at the pleased hum she gives you and let your heavy head fall back onto the pillow the second she lets go of your hair. she leans closer once more, pressing a sloppy, haste kiss to your lips before pushing herself into her original position while dragging her nails along your spine. with her thighs flush to yours, she reaches for her cigarette again; she doesn't rush it, she takes her time ashing it, reveling in the way you're trembling on her cock.

her lips wrap around the already stained stick as she stares at where you're connected, the mess of it all – her masterpiece.

"good girl."

[lay-z]

inamorata | 1

Summary: Two retired veterans decide to adopt a domestic hybrid on a whim to bring some much needed light back into their dire lives.

Pairing: hybrid!Ghoap x fem!hybrid!Reader Warnings/Info: 18+ | Hybrid AU ft. black panther!Simon, grey wolf hybrid!Johnny, and maine coon cat!Reader. Despite ears, tails/feathers, and their adapted nature/instincts and personalities, hybrids have human features. | strangers to lovers; class differences; fantasy/fictional setting racism; hurt/comfort; humour; eventual heavy smut; dom/sub elements; fluff; cussing; angst (Mind the warnings for each chapter!)

Based on this idea 🖤

There is an atmosphere of departure around the common hazel just outside the fenced backyard.  

The pair of robins has found their ideal nesting spot in between the high branches of the early blossoming tree after days of scouting the pretty territory. As early as January they start to sprout, Nana had explained to you once, and it’s February now. While other trees around are still leafless and recovering from winter, the common hazel is turning colourful; working hard and earnest to change the lifeless scenery with its tiny deep green leaves and pale-yellow catkins hanging from the branches. 

And joining its effort, the common birds of the area are starting to build their nests, looking forward to spring with natural optimism; stacking sticks and stones and moss to build a home in harmonic teamwork. A home for their offspring to hatch and grow; hidden and protected from predators.  

A breeze makes the thinner branches and catkins sway while the reddish birds huddle together, seeking shelter in a notch of the trunk, puffing their plumage for warmth. Out of a hole at the base of the trunk, a hare pokes its head out, large ears perked. 

You wonder what the hare must’ve heard. You wonder if the breeze is cold, if it would nip at your exposed face and make your furry ears bristle. You wonder if the air smells fresh, perhaps flowery, though definitely exhilarating. And you wonder how the robins sound, if their lovely chirps would make your heart flutter with happiness and longing for more. 

Exhaling a soft, discouraged sigh, you continue to gaze out of the meagre overhead window, curled up on the metallic windowsill high up off the ground of your tiny enclosure; chin resting on your forearm while you clutch your long and cottony, golden tail to your chest, petting it self-soothingly while you try to get lost in your daydreams; drowning out the awful ambient noise of the hybrid shelter along with your terribly empty stomach and grief stricken heart. 

It’s gotten even more crowded after Christmas, now that given away hybrids have been returned to shelters, to the illegal breeders they were bought from, or simply dumped into the streets and on highways before they were snared and detained by the regulatory agency for homeless hybrids–the RAHH. Although the only “homeless” hybrids always only happen to be domestic. The lesser species, meant to serve and obey. 

The other female cat hybrid in this enclosure has been taken to the vet last night after her water broke, leaving you with the luxury to be alone in the tiny space, along with the puddle of amniotic fluids that no one has bothered to clean up yet, so you simply had to let it dry by itself as you lack any towels or blankets to spare for a proper cleanup, though the smell isn't half as bad as the general stench of this wretched place, and to your own horror, you’ve noticed that you’re starting to reek, too. Then again, you can only groom yourself limitedly without a clean source of water and a piece of soap.  

Then, a particularly loud wail from one of the younger dog hybrids in a kennel close by disturbs your thoughts, makes you flinch, and your fuzzy ears flatten anxiously as you peek over your shoulder just in time to watch one of the shelter workers unlock the gate to your enclosure. 

Your ears perk up again, tail twitching hopefully in your grasp as your eyes flicker to her–empty hands. No food. It’s been three days. Your stomach clenches and a wave of nausea threatens to overwhelm you at the prospect of going another day without a meal before something else catches your attention, something way more surprising–two large apex hybrids standing behind the worker, both oozing power and dominance. 

The shelter worker, a stern-looking woman with a tight bun and a clipboard, sighs impatiently as she spots you hiding higher up on the windowsill again. She's used to the skittishness and fear in the domestic hybrids under her care, but your avoidant and clever behaviour is getting on her nerves. Turning to the two apex hybrids, she gestures towards you. 

“This one seems fairly docile and well-behaved. A purebred cat hybrid, female, late 20 or early 30s, we’re not sure. She's healthy and not... uncooperative like some of the others, and it seems like she’s still a virgin.” The worker says, her voice devoid of any real concern or compassion. 

Your eyes widen slowly as the wolf hybrid enters your enclosure confidently, uncaring of the still drying puddle on the concrete floor. His bright gaze is fixated on you, neck craned to meet your fearful gaze with what you can only describe as a cheeky grin; his long grey tail swishes behind him slowly while you get lost in the cerulean colour of his eyes. Bright like the sky, promising freedom. His haircut looks funny. 

“Well, well, well... aren’t ye a bonnie wee thing,” he purrs, his Scottish brogue rumbling through his friendly words. His tail starts to wag as you shift your position, turning around fully and releasing your grasp on your tail to bend over the windowsill to get a better view. Your tail uncurls and stands up straight, its fluffy tip crooking like a question mark–showcasing your curiosity. Your nose twitches as you take a tentative sniff and catch the pleasant cologne on his tanned skin, mixed with his natural musk. 

The other apex hybrid, a massive feline missing half an ear and wearing a black surgical mask, watches the exchange with a guarded expression. His dark tawny eyes, visible above the rim of his mask, are calculating as he assesses you. He takes a step closer and enters the enclosure as well, his broad shoulders and muscular build now crowding the small space while the shelter worker steps out into the corridor. 

“She’s feckin’ gorgeous, Simon,” the wolf hybrid says in awe, his eyes crinkling with mirth as he nudges the other one with his elbow while you duck your head at the compliment, a flush rising to your cheeks. “Looks jus’ like the pic on the website.” 

Simon glances up at you appraisingly; eyes gauging your body language while you tilt your head at the way he wears his sleek black tail tucked around his waist like a belt, still wondering what kind of hybrid he is.  

“Aye, she’s... a vision, and calm, too,” Simon agrees, and his voice catches you off guard–low and gravelly, bordering on a deep, soothing purr that leaves your fur bristling pleasantly. They’re both nice to look at. Strong. He glances over his shoulder at the shelter worker, who’s tapping her foot on the ground impatiently, clutching the clipboard to her chest. “This one will do. We’ll take ‘er.”  

Your breath hitches and your heartrate increases swiftly while your doe-eyes flicker between the apex predators, not quite processing what this means, though the wolf hybrid’s tail wags as he reaches a meaty hand out to you encouragingly. “Ye think it’ll work on her, Si? It certainly doesnae with ye,” he chuckles boyishly before flashing you a charming smile. “C’mon, bon–pspspspspspsps–” 

You tut, brows furrowing at the blatant insult before you glance at the other one, Simon, who simply shakes his head slowly, muttering: “Fuckin’ hell, Johnny.” There is no doubt he’s some sort of feline.  

Meanwhile, the shelter worker nods and makes a checkmark on her clipboard. “Very well, gentlemen. I’ll have her things and the necessary paperwork ready at the front desk in a minute.” 

“You’re... serious? You–You want me?” you ask in disbelief. It cannot be that easy. It cannot be that simple. And they cannot be serious about this. Your stomach growls as you push yourself up on the windowsill, waiting for confirmation while your tail flicks nervously. 

Johnny beams and reaches into the pocket of his hoodie, retrieving a bundle of black leather along with what looks like a chocolate bar. “Ye heard what Simon said, didn’t ye? Hard ta believe those pretty ears are deaf,” he snickers, fumbling with the items before holding a collar and candy up for you to see. A friendly offering, a mouth-watering temptation. You swallow hard and move to climb down from your safe haven, drawn in by the prospect of food, of getting out of this hellhole.

Behind him, Simon clasps a hand over Johnny’s shoulder, squeezing it some and making the shorter man’s tail wag again as dark eyes look up at you expectantly. “Come on down now, sweet’eart. Let’s get you home.” 

[sai-int]

Do you think RTS Simon would get reader a pet, like a cat to keep her company while he’s gone? I totally see him getting jealous and annoyed with the fur ball whenever he gets home and just wants to be with his pretty bird.

oh absolutely. he is so that man. grumpy, territorial, but he still buys you the damn cat.

he doesn’t even like cats.

but you’d been quiet the last few times he was gone. not needy, just… lonesome. and simon, for all his hard edges and cold silences, knows that you’re softer than you let on. you don’t complain, never beg him to stay, but he sees the way you linger in doorways when he packs, the way you press your face into his shirt when you think he’s not looking.

so he brings home a cat. doesn’t announce it or make it a big thing—just shows up one day, duffle slung over one shoulder and a small, squirming lump of fur tucked under his arm like cargo.

“don’t get used t’this,” he mutters, setting the kitten on the floor like it personally offended him. “thing’s for you, not me.”

—but you beam. scoop up the fluffball with a gasp and immediately start baby-talking to it, pressing kisses to its little ears

and simon genuinely feels like he might just die on the spot.

(you name her shelly, after the endless bullet casings/shells you find in his kit... his pockets... his shoes... it's a problem. he’s secretly obsessed—loves when you find one and he can hear you shout his name all angrily across the house)

—but the second he comes home and sees her curled up in your lap, purring away while you giggle and coo, simon is scowling. dramatic. brooding. sulking like a teenager.

“that my spot, sweet’art?” he drawls, standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed.

“youre always my favorite,” you say, smiling sweetly—but you don’t move the cat.

his eye twitches.

and the worst part?? she likes to sleep between you two. like some tiny, smug little gatekeeper.

“don’t give me that look,” you laugh when he glares at her one night. “she kept me company.”

“she’s in my bloody way.”

and when she nips at his sock or curls on his pillow, he grumbles “fuckin’ gremlin,” under his breath—but never kicks her off. just deals with it, because you love her.

(he secretly pets her when you’re not around. she purrs like mad. he pretends it didn’t happen.)

but one night, long after you’ve fallen asleep, he’s lying there wide awake—your body pressed against his, the cat snuggled up behind your knees. and he realizes: you’re not alone when he’s gone. you’re loved. warm. safe.

and maybe the furball’s not so bad after all. (he still growls “move over, princess,” when she takes up too much bed space. but he scratches her head while he says it.)

and when he heads out the next time, he kisses you once—soft, lingering—and then crouches to scratch under the cat’s chin.

“y’keep her safe while i’m gone, yeah?” a beat. “or i’ll find someone who will.”

she meows like she understands. and when you wave him off from the porch, cat perched on your shoulder like a little guardian, simon feels something in his chest shift.

he has a home now.

fur, claws, pretty wife and all.

[pearlymel]

My lady—

Synopsis. Sometimes zayne thinks of you as his owner, well, as a cat at least.

Warnings. NSFW, no plot, fem reader, kinda subby zayne, oral (f and m receiving.) 1.6k words.

Notes. A little something to get ready for the upcoming bang bang cards. Also happy holiday's and new year!!

"Well aren't you being a good butler kitty for me?" You grin, enjoying every bit of this. It was rare to see Zayne like this or for him to act this way.

"I aim to please." And you shudder at his words, his other hand smoothly glides up from your ankle to your calf, the fabric of your dress riding up, up...

For a moment he's silent, content to take in the view while gently caressing your leg. But he can only be patient for so long. "Come here." he murmurs, hand tightening around your ankle once again.

Such a demanding cat, he's satisfied only once you're sitting right on the edge of the armrest, his body pressed in between your legs. By still holding your ankle, he pushes, encouraging you to rest your calf on his shoulder and to wrap the other leg around him. One of his hands rests on the armrest to support his weight, while the free hand traces a light path down your bared inner-thigh.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," he murmurs. "Your butler, your pet, your— "

He cuts himself off, swallows hard. Careful. He doesn't want to scare you off with the intensity of his feelings. Instead he settles for a simple, "Your Zayne.”

“ah… you're a bold kitty too.” You half chuckle when he starts nuzzling his nose into the bend of your knee, "you smell good." Literally drunk on your scent.

The hand on your thigh moves higher, pushing your dress up further and you instinctively tug at his hair, “hey—”

Zayne lets out a groan when the hand in his hair grips tighter, "Pull harder, my lady."

“i don't want to hurt you.”

"You won't."

He nips at the skin of your inner thighs just a bit harder, licking the spot when your hand jerks in his hair again.

Zayne nuzzles against your clothed pussy, his nose brushing and bumping through the cloth. Another inhale, another low, rumbling sound of contentment.

You grit through your teeth, this was enough to actually turn you on and make the fabric a little damp from your arousal.. How embarrassing.

His fingers hook in the band of your panties, this time pulling harder. The sound of tearing fabric fills the room, and you gasp. The rest of them parting easily under his hands.

“Zayne—!” he doesn't give you a chance to react before he's leaning in and dragging the flat of his tongue along your slit. He starts slow, licking and sucking at your clit before teasing your hole with the tip of his tongue. His hands smoothly slide up your thighs, fingers digging in slightly as he holds you open for his ministrations.

Zayne loves it when you tug at his hair. He loves to tease you with his mouth, but he also loves this, the reaction.

The little twinges of pleasure-pain, the gentle scratches over his scalp and ears. The feel of your thighs, trembling just barely against his ears.

He can tell you're struggling. You're holding your breath to keep quiet, your squinting unfocused eyes. His head turns, his lips brushing against the inside of your thigh to let his tongue curl over your skin in a soft swipe.

He wants to hear you, but he won't force you—not when you're so sweetly silent for him, "breathe, sweetheart.”

One glance down at him, and you part your lips to ‘breathe’ only for it to come out as a whine when he slides his middle finger in, slipping into your cunt easily.

His free hand slides under your knee when you start squirming, holding it up to keep you still, "don't move.” a whisper before he presses in further, curling inside your deepest most sensitive repeatedly that you forget you were supposed to be in ‘control’.

Not like this, a moaning, whining mess from one finger and his lips closing around your bundle of nerves. You don't even notice it happening next, when you're almost crying as you suddenly cum—

“Mmh, Zayne i can't—can't—” and you're gushing out embarrassingly fast, eyes rolling back with the back of your hand covering your quivering mouth.

Meanwhile Zayne was lapping and slurping on your release without hesitation to help you ride out from your high. Only when your tremors subside does he pull back, licking his lips. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, face flushed, hair messed up and lips swollen.

“Am i good enough for you, my lady?” that sweet breathless voice, one dangerous move that would bring you to your knees.

“my good boy,” you hum, cupping his cheeks while gently pulling him up with you on the couch, your hand ever so soft caressing his cheek that he blinks slowly when you peck his glistening lips.

Zayne's breath catches next when you push him down, eyes widening slightly. But he doesn't protest, doesn't try to stop you. Instead he watches as you undo his belt and zipper.

"What are you—" His words cut off with a gasp as you free his cock, wrapping your hand around the hard length. He's already leaking, the tip slick when your thumb circles it for a bit.

As much as he wants to be a gentleman, wants to put your pleasure first, he's desperate for your touch. He watches you through hooded eyes as you stroke him, hand gliding along his shaft. His breathing is ragged, chest heaving with each inhale.

“There, there,” you whisper while squeezing the base of his cock before you wrap your precious lips around the sensitive tip.

He's gone.

“M-my lady—haah—”, His head tips, his hips involuntarily jerking upward. His hands tighten on the sofa, the fabric creaking under his grip. But he doesn't do it again, and his hips fall back down onto the couch with a low moan, his chest heaving.

One hand drops from the side, brushing over your hair to comb through it as he rocks his hips slightly, just enough to slide a little deeper into your mouth. your tongue swirls around him, it feels all tight, warm, and wet at the same time.

He watches you struggle, sees your throat bulge around him. The sight is obscene, erotic, and it makes his cock throb in your mouth. He can feel your throat fluttering around his length, and it's almost too much.

He can't help it, at that point, holding back like that.

With a low groan, his whole bodyconvulses, and his back arch sharply under you. The grip on your hair tightens, but the sound he makes still manages to stay quiet; you can tell he's still holding back.

Trying to be good. For you. Even while he's practically shaking, while you can feel his body shivering against you.

He rocks his hips slightly, shallow thrusts that allow you to adjust. He doesn't want to hurt you, but he can't resist the urge to move, to feel you around him.

“My lady, i-im about to come, you can pull away if you dont like it,” he breathes out, but you decide against it, sucking harder even when tears prick at the corner of your eyes.

“A-ah, i… I—” His orgasm hits him like a freight train, back arching as he comes hard down your throat, spilling into you, pulse after pulse of hot, thick cum. “My lady, my lady—” he chants, hips jerking with each spurt.

He looks down at you, eyes hazy with post-orgasmic bliss. You look up at him, lips swollen with remnants of his release at the corner of your lips that you lick away.

“you taste almost sweet, ate too much sugar?” you tease, your voice hoarse. Yet he's still shaking, barely coherent. You can tell he likes it, by the way his mouth curves into a small, dazed smile.

Zayne is barely conscious, his words slurring together. His hand brushes your hair again, pushing it away from your face. "Come here...”

He pulls you up to curl close to his chest, the hand in your hair drawing you against him, he pulls you closer, nuzzling his face into your hair.

"My lady… " he whispers softly, “hm?” you hum back.

"my everything." The words are slurred together again, muffled in a low, half-whisper, but they're clear enough that you understand them. He draws you in closer, his arms wrapping around your torso, pressing you close to him. He doesn't care if it's too intimate or if he's being too clingy. At this point he just needs to hold you, to be close to you, and to savor your presence.

He's... so clingy now.

“is my kitty all high? Seems like I've spoiled him too much.”

"M'fine," he murmurs into your hair, lips brushing over it in a gentle caress. His head tilts forward, nestling into you like a cat seeking warmth. His hand strokes gently over your back, fingertips tracing down the curve of your spine as he presses closer to you. “it's alright, I'm here.”

He mumbles something else that gets muffled in your hair, though he's also still exhausted and coming down from the high of his orgasm, so he'll probably sleep soon, but he won't sleep until he knows that you're comfortable. He just wants you, that's all. Just having you in his arms is enough.

[fortunxa]

thinking about . . .

# cw. sub-bottom!Jinx, sub-bottom!reader, both needy, tribbing/scissoring, praise, spit.

nsfw | mdni .ᐟ .ᐟ

needy Jinx with an equally as needy reader during sex.

it’s all about grabbing, pressing, pulling closer, closer, and closer. sweaty bodies sticking to one another, practically overheating, but neither one of you is willing to pull away, needing the proximity.

tribbing/scissoring is your favorite; wet cunts sliding together, aching clits catching with each messy roll of your hips, and yet you’re not only whining from the pleasure but because it’s still not enough.

“c’mere, please, c’mere.” she presses against you, arms looping around your neck as she nuzzles her cheek against yours, mewling desperately into your ear. poor girl loses her rhythm the closer she holds you, but she just won’t stop, now humping dumbly against you in a puny attempt at getting the both of you off. “god, that pretty pussy was made for me.”

you pull away just enough to see her face, admiring how her usually pale face is flushed pink from the exertion and how her nose is wiggling and scrunching up, her warm breath hitting your face in heavy huffs as she pants.

you have no time to praise her, though—it’s a matter of seconds before her lips are on yours, dark lipstick smudging as she kisses you clumsily, practically shoving her hot tongue into your mouth. no permission needed as you reciprocate eagerly; you want it just a much as she does, after all.

it’s sloppy, it’s messy, and utterly fucking perfect as her spit drips down your chin when you part to breathe, a single string of saliva still connecting you to her.

connection. that’s what you want, and that’s what you’ll get.

you reach out, greedy hands grabbing at her waist before trailing down and settling on her hips, tugging her impossibly closer. “i need you, i need you, i need—” you keep repeating even though you already have her. and the loving girlfriend that she is, she simply complies without even questioning you, grinding her soaking pussy into yours with increased urgency, chasing that high.

you need her, you want her, and she won’t disappoint.

but Jinx is a sensitive girl, in more ways than one, so she’s already teetering on the edge of her orgasm while you try to catch up.

“please, baby—come with me.” you hear her plead in a breathless whine because she’s waiting—always holding back just so she falls apart with you. she’s kitten-licking the salty skin of your neck, nipping and sucking like she’s trying to coax you closer to that release.

and when you finally cry out, “f-fuck, i’m coming! i’m coming—” she’s right there with you, forehead pressed against yours as she holds you there, hips stuttering together in an uneven rhythm, so close together you’re not sure where your moans end and hers begin.

you’re already feeling the overstimulation before it’s even over, and yet she’s giggling—a sweet and breathless sound interrupted by small whimpers, legs still shaking once you finally come down

in the aftermath, neither of you attempts to part just yet. you lie there, a mess of tangled limbs and satiated bodies, desperately needing to cool off but the need for closeness comes first. so, you stay there, clinging to each other like lifelines, the smell of sex adding an odd sense of comfort.

you brush her damp bangs away from her face, drowning her in kisses while she just grins tiredly, simply basking in your affection like a content cat, enjoying how your fluids are sticking to her sore cunt; no way either of you is getting up to wash up now.

she wants it all.

anyway y’all get the idea. just a thought 💭

[nemo-writes]

𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 I chapter four

(dr. jack abbot x nurse!reader)

⤿ chapter summary: jack’s feelings for you grew in the dusk. then, a whispered incident shatters the stillness, and he realizes too late that something’s already broken.

⤿ warning(s): none

⟡ story masterlist ; previous I next

✦ word count: 1.8k

Jack first saw you exactly four years ago during shift‑change—him coming in for the ER night grind, you stalking out after twelve hours in Surgical with three lunch boxes stacked like ammo. Two interns are nipping at each other’s heels until you raise a single finger; the quarrel dies in mid‑air. He watches, amused, then watches again a few minutes later when those same interns turn up in the break room wolfing down a mouthful of poppy-seed muffins that smell like pure comfort.

“Who baked that?” he asks.

They point after you with crumbs on their cheeks and fingers: a hard‑headed nurse from Surgical.

He notices you in passing—but the meeting comes much later, high above the noise.

It is barely dawn, once again shift‑change o’clock. As usual, he takes the stairs to the roof for a hit of cold air before plunging into his ER night. You are already there, arms folded on the railing, watching the river steal the first light. He almost turns back, but you don’t glance over, and the quiet feels too good to waste. So he stands a dozen paces away, breathing steam into the sky. Neither of you speaks. Five minutes later the freight elevator clangs below and you disappear down the stairwell, a ghost in gray.

That becomes routine: his night beginning where your day ends, both of you claiming the same ten minutes of sky. At first it is silence—two strangers dividing the dawn. Then a nod. Then, on a morning whipped by sleet, you mutter, “Coffee? Again?” Jack snorts, raises his styrofoam cup, and admits it is sludge. You offer no sympathy, only a sideways grin that feels like permission.

Conversations creep in. You talk about nieces who mail you science‑fair photos, about Jack’s improbable knack for fixing malfunctioning IV pumps, about cilantro storage and the best pierogi on the South Side. He learns you feed residents and med students like stray cats. You learn his leg squeaks in the rain and he deals with it by over‑tightening the socket and cursing under his breath. That way, the roof becomes neutral ground, a borderland between the hospital’s fluorescent chaos and the city’s slow river.

Jack falls for you in increments—not all at once, not with fire, but in the way late sun warms cold bones.

The first time is maybe a dry joke you lob over your shoulder in passing. The second, the way your eyes soften when a helicopter banks in low, shadows flashing across your face as you pause mid-chat. And after that, it’s everything.

He hasn’t let himself feel something like this in a long time. Not since… and even that name, even the memory, doesn’t ache like it used to—but it has left behind a hollowed-out space where nothing has taken root since. There have been flings, sure. Company here and there, something easy and understood, but nothing that lasts beyond the night or the need. He hasn’t wanted anything to last.

Until you, that is.

And so, he begins hinting—carefully. A stupid pun scrawled in the margin of a half-finished sudoku you’ve been grumbling over all day. A couple of lumpia he manages to snag—somehow, without losing a limb—from Princess and Perlah’s fiercely guarded monthly stash. A quiet confession, offered one chilly morning, that sunrise feels less sharp with company. Each gesture small, deliberate, afraid that pressing too hard might crack the quiet, steady rhythm you both come to rely on.

Because the roof has become necessary.

And still, he can’t lie to himself: the feeling scares him. The possibility of caring again, of wanting something that can’t be controlled or triaged or explained—it unmoors him a little. But it also makes him feel alive in a way he hasn’t let himself feel in years. You make the hours between dusk and dawn feel less like a stretch of survival and more like something to look forward to.

And that… that is terrifying. But it is also good. Very good.

Then, four dusks in a row, you don’t show.

On the eve of the fifth night, he types a message he doesn’t plan to send: Haven’t seen you on the roof. Everything okay?

Ten minutes tick by before your reply arrives: I’m alright—just busy. See you tomorrow?

Something is off, and it isn’t the hour. He fills his thermos anyway and snags a terrible slice of cafeteria pound cake—knowing you’ll roast him for it if you ever find out—and promises himself that if dawn doesn’t bring answers, he’ll start asking better questions.

For now, he simply shoots back: Works for me. Sunrise tea?

And you, a simple but earnest confirmation: Sunrise tea.

Jack can be reckless, but war zones and widowhood have taught him this: when the strongest person in the room starts acting skittish and absent, you step closer and keep watch—especially if the room is a rooftop at sunrise, and the person is the nurse who once turns five minutes of shared silence into the best part of his day.

. . .

He arrives at the hospital, stepping through the double doors with his usual resolute gait, one hand hooked casually under the strap of his tactical backpack. His expression is calm, composed, shaded by that habitual, guarded optimism he wears for years.

But something is off.

It’s not loud. In fact, that’s what makes it strange. The usual din of residents bickering over charting, wheelchairs squealing across tile, interns nervously chugging coffee—muted. Not gone, just… held back, like the The Pitt is holding its breath.

Jack’s eyes scan the room, already sharpening beneath the calm. He catches sight of Dr. Ellis—one of his best senior residents—cutting across the ER with purposeful steps. Not rushed, not panicked. But something close to tight. Her face is unreadable, grim where it’s usually brisk.

“Jack,” she says as she reaches him. No Dr. Abbot, no pat on the arm, no idle quip. Just a quiet, urgent gesture for him to follow. “Come with me for a sec.”

His brow lifts, but he doesn’t ask questions. Not when she’s looking like that.

They weave past triage, through a set of doors into the cramped staff room. The door clicks shut behind them, and instantly the world narrows. The light feels a little too bright. The hum of the fridge too loud.

Jack leans against the counter, arms folded, expression even. “Alright,” he says, not unkindly. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Parker doesn’t answer right away. She shifts, visibly uncomfortable. No sarcasm. No smirk. Just that rare, uncertain edge Jack only sees when things are about hit the fan.

“Something’s wrong up at Surgical,” she says finally. “Trauma Surgery, specifically.”

Jack doesn’t move, but his gaze sharpens. The inside of him goes still. You work Surgical long enough that his mind jumps without permission.

“What do you mean?” he asks, his voice steady. “Is it about a patient? A case?”

Parker shakes her head. “No. It’s personal. It’s… her.”

She doesn’t say your name. She doesn’t have to. The second she says it—her—Jack knows. The knot that’s been building for days, through missed rooftop meetings and clipped, careful texts, cinches tight, pressing into his ribs like a vice.

Of course he’s heard the way people talk. The way the nurses elbow each other when he walks past. Even Parker, just now, had paused like she expected him to flinch at the mention of you. 

But Jack doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t correct anyone, either. Let them talk.

It’s not that anything’s happened—not really. Not yet. But something’s there. Has been for a while now. He just doesn’t have the time or energy to pretend otherwise.

His jaw ticks, barely. He fights the instinct to reach for his phone, to scroll through that last short message—just tired—and see if it reads any differently now.

“She’s been dealing with something,” Parker continues, lower now. “Something bad. I don’t know the whole story. Not really. Nobody does, I think. But… word’s spreading fast.”

Jack doesn’t breathe, but he listens.

“She broke down in the middle of her shift. Not just a bad day. Panic—real panic. Security got called in. So did Gloria.”

The weight of it settles hard. He turns his eyes to a crack above the microwave. It’s been there for years, a small fracture in cheap cabinetry, but tonight it looks like a fault line.

“She alright?” he asks.

Parker gives a vague nod. “I think so. But here’s the thing—no one’s talking. I mean, not even the nurses.”

That gets his attention.

Parker goes on. “You know how they are. They could tell you what kind of gum a new hire chewed three floors down before HR finishes onboarding. But this? They’re locking it down. Close. Fierce. Like they’re closing ranks over her.”

Jack runs a hand down his face, slow. Subdued, yes—but not at peace.

“Do you know why?” Jack asks, voice low and even.

Parker hesitates, then shakes her head. “No. Not really. Just bits and pieces. Like I said, no one’s giving the full story. Not even the nurses, and you know how they are—usually you can’t get them to stop talking. But now? Radio silence.”

Jack watches her carefully. She’s being honest. He can tell.

“I can poke around,” Parker offers, almost reluctantly. “Ask some questions, feel out what’s being held back—if you want.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just exhales, slow through his nose, as if weighing what kind of damage that might do. His fingers drum once against the thermos in his hand. Then he shakes his head, once.

“No,” he says. “Leave it. Maybe it’s not for the best.”

That stops her cold. She studies him, really looks—and the silence between them sharpens.

Because Jack never says leave it. Not when someone’s in trouble. And the line of his jaw, the way his shoulders lock down… that’s not calm. That’s containment. Worry wrapped so tight it’s just short of boiling over.

She doesn’t press. Not now.

Jack straightens, but his expression doesn’t change. If anything, it stills into something harder. More focused.

His name hasn’t come up, and that almost bothers him more. If you’d talked to someone—anyone—why not him? And now that’s too late. The missed rooftop meetings, the clipped texts, the careful way you said “I’m just tired.” It all slides into place with a sickening click.

He tugs his backpack strap a little tighter over his shoulder, eyes distant but burning behind the quiet.

“Thanks for letting me know,” he mutters. “Let’s get to work.”

Parker only nods. She doesn’t add or ask another thing.

And when they walk out of the staff room, there’s no storm in his step, no rush in his pace. But the tension radiating off him—quiet, coiled, dangerous—is enough to make two med‑students step out of his way without a word.

Something’s wrong. Someone’s hurt you. And someone else is going to regret it.

divider credit

[lologoinsolo]

Added after this one, Part 3, Part 4

Cats and Their Men Masterlist

You stammer at the man as he holds what looks to be a calico. His face looks worse for wear despite how handsome he is. Cut lip and cheek that look as though maybe the cause is from the one wiggling in his hands. “Sir, the uh,” you look down at your phone for the time. “The stores about to close.” You look from him to the kitten and then back to him.

“I know,” he sighs, “I’m sorry. Really, I am but I’ve no idea what I’m doing.” He rubs at the baby’s head and she nips right at his finger. He groans, “why are you so mean? You were all cuddly in my lap and now you’re being hissy.”

You laugh a little at his lament and rub your own face. “Alright,” you can’t very well leave him like this. You’re sure the kitten would be more than happy to chew on something better than the man’s finger. “Come on,” you motion for him to follow. You don’t bother to page for someone to cover the front. The store’s about to close in 2 minutes anyways. “I’ll get you started, sir.”

“Kyle,” he grins when you quirk a brow, “just Kyle, none of that ‘sir’ business or else I’ll feel far older than I actually am.” He rests his kitten against his chest when she starts wiggling even more. “Curious little bugger, found her shivering at my front door.” There’s a glint in his eye as he retells his findings, “she didn’t even notice me grabbing her till I picked her up and look what she did to my face.” He says with dramatic flare when he holds her up to his eye view. The kitten merely blinks at him and her paws prod his nose.

You pull a cart since you have a feeling he’ll need a lot of things. He doesn’t give off ‘I already have a cat’ energy. “Serves you right for spooking her.” You joke about his woes when he gives you a playful glare.

“You’re only siding with her because she didn’t mark up your pretty face.”

You cough at that and push the cart more quickly down the aisle. You can handle getting yelled and cussed at but god forbid a handsome man says you’re pretty. “So,” you manage to say when he gives you a dazzling smile. He caught up quickly to your step and looks neither winded or strained. Why are all the tall men getting kittens? You inwardly roll your eyes, “you said a friend told you to find me?”

His brow raises slightly and he maneuvers his kitten to be more in his arms. “Yeah,” he simply says, “says you know a thing or two about cats.”

“Did he..” you look a bit hopeful, “did he say if he’d come back to the store.” Picking up some cat toys and placing some cute orange cat shaped bowls in the cart. “He uh, he left in a hurry last I saw.” You give a quick reasoning so as not to feel as desperate as you sound. You still feel the phantom touch of his hand. You never got his name…

“Can’t really tell,” he shrugs and he plucks some crinkle toys and tosses them in the cart. He doesn’t seem to care about pricing either. “Man’s unreadable unless you tell him a stupid joke.” There’s a short chuckle and flash of a memory that goes through his eyes.

You deflate a little, it wouldn’t make sense to feel like this. You don’t know mafia guy anyways. “Ah, well. If you see him, tell him he needs to take his cat to the vet.” Kyle nods and he perks up when he sees the cat clothing.

“When you get older, rug, I’m gonna buy you one of these.” He points to a cut pirate costume as if the kitten understands him. “You’ll hate me for it but at least I can get a picture out of it, yeah?”

You smile at his enthusiasm, from what you seem cats have never been a fan of clothing… but then again the clothing here doesn’t look— “wait,” you jerk your head to him, “rug? As in,” you gesture to the kitten that’s starting to meow when he pulls her back down from his shoulders. She must’ve climbed up there when he was looking through the clothes. “The cat?” You blink once then twice when he shrugs once more.

“Not really a naming guy, plus,” he rubs along her ears, “she was shivering on my rug. Figured I’d just say that and be done with it.”

Better than garbage, you think. “Well…” biting on your lip, “that’s unique.” Trying to save face, you don’t want to be too judgmental.

He gives you a look and then snickers, “I’m just kidding, love.” He comes close and you freeze slightly till he plops his kitten down in your hands. “About the rug name at least. I really am shit with names. Johnny’s better at naming animals.” Placing his hand on his hip and you wonder if that’s mafia guy but then you think maybe not. “If you got an idea then I’m all ears.” He turns on his side and he rubs his chin in thought. He mutters something and then walks off to the litter aisle.

You hold her in your hands. “A name, huh?” Bailey was the only name you could think of but that one’s been taken already… “hm,” you rub her nose to the top of her head. She seems to enjoy that as she curls into your fingers. “Pretty girl, what should your name be?” Humming softly in thought and leaning against the cart when Kyle comes back with a tub of litter and a nice looking litter box. You hadn’t expected to see the nice flex of muscle from his arms but you’re certainly not gonna complain about the view. “I got a secret to share, Kyle.” You say as he comes within earshot

“Oh, yeah?” He smiles and places the litter box in the cart first and then the tub. “What’s that? Promise I won’t tell a soul.” He makes an X over his chest.

“I’m shit with names too.”

His shoulders jump and he lets out a laugh. “Really?” Rolling his eyes, “guess we’re both in a pickle. Might have to stick with rug for now.” He rubs a thumb over his kitten's little head. She nips a little at his finger but he doesn’t seem to mind. He pats the top of her head like one would a dog.

“I think she hates that idea.”

“Very opinionated this one,” he takes over the pushing of the cart and you lead him down to the cat food aisle. You check her teeth and you are pleasantly happy that she won’t need formula. “Now,” he turns side to side to check the kinds of food the store sells. “What does my girl need?”

You give him a thorough answer after having learned your lesson with your mystery man. Explaining what he should and shouldn’t do and placing a weeks worth of 3 different foods. You then also speak about how he’ll need to see a vet. You checked her for fleas and you are incredibly happy to tell him that she only had one but that it’s still good for him to get some flea drops. After you give him the runaround once more around the store, checking for items you know she won’t need but she absolutely needs a carrot cat scratcher. You finally take him to your register so he can pay. Your manager looks none too happy about a remaining customer but your manager has nothing to remark when Kyle looks right at him.

“Okay,” you finally say after bagging all his items and placing them in the cart. “Here’s your receipt,” you pass it to him and you give a little pet to his kitten. “Sweet girl when she wants to be.” He chuckles around you and pockets his receipt.

“Only when she wants to, that’s for sure.” He lets out a low whistle, “cost me a high bill but only the best for her.” He tucks her a little closer and gives you a kind look. “Thanks for staying late for me,” he looks like he wants to say more but hesitates. “I’ll see you around?”

You blink and then nod quickly, “I’m always here, Kyle. Gotta make money,” you laugh shortly and his lips pull back so that you can see just a peep of his pearly whites. He takes his leave, chugging along his cart to place it in his car. He mouths something to his kitten when she tries to get out of his hands. Probably a scolding with how he tuts a finger side to side in front of her face. She’s hearing none of it though from how her tail flicks back and forth. You wave him goodbye and he waves back right at you before he steps in to drive away. You hope he’ll come back to tell you her name once he’s figured it out. You wonder if mafia guy will come back too…

[emo-gremlin]

The Doctor x Reader SFW Headcanons!

💻 Refers to you as his prize experiment or his special lab rat.

💻 He isn't romantic in the conventional sense. He never was one to express his emotions well. But you can tell in little ways that he does care about you.

💻 He still tends to study you, and your reactions to things. Taking notes on your interactions with Yarnaby, how you sleep, what you enjoy, etc.

💻 Insanely touch starved and in eternal denial about it. Vaguely protests to cuddles, and secretly looses his mind if you fall asleep on him. (Think of how if a cat sleeps on you it is illegal to move)

💻 You know he cares about you when he leaves you and Yarnaby alone together. He lets you get close to him, eventually leading Yarnaby to become just as protective of you as he is The Doctor himself.

💻 Will carry you to bed/tuck you in if he catches you asleep. He will act like he did no such thing.

💻 He may not understand all the "memes" and "tiktoks" you tell him about, but he at least listens.

💻 He likes dissecting medical dramas with you in his off time. Loves pointing out inaccuracies and flaws. His favorite is nip/tuck.

💻 You watched human centipede with him once.

You: augh i hate these guys at work

Harley: *picks up scalpel*

You: Put. It. Down.

Harley: >:(

💻 Is surprisingly good at giving massages. His knowledge of human anatomy is unparalleled and his metal hands are perfect in rubbing out the tense spots. Though....he only really does this either on special occasions or if he REALLY wants something.

💻 You and Yarnaby are the only people he trusts to leave him to charge. During this time, he's in sleep mode and vulnerable.

Bonus Yarnaby and reader headcanons!

🦁 If he sees you laying on the bed, he lays right next to you, letting you snuggle right up to him.

🦁 Purrs a LOT around you, being one of the first to treat him with genuine love and kindness in a long time.

🦁 Your kindness to him has even taught The Doctor to be kinder to him too.

🦁 He loves playing keep away with his toys, tug of war too.

🦁 Can and will drag you along while on walks. Most of the neighborhood knows now to keep out of his way.

🦁 He brings you his toys if he sees you upset. They cheer him up, so they should work for you too!

🦁 Loves cuddling up with you and the Doctor. He...did accidentally break your leg once when you and the Doctor starting living together. You had to train him how to get up into your lap.

🦁 Will butt his head against you for attention.

🦁 You will know when it's time to feed him. He has hit you with his food bowl before trying to get your attention.

🦁 Will curl up in Harley's lap while he charges.

🦁 Once tore apart a bear who broke into your backyard. It took weeks to wash out the blood stains.

🦁 Tackles you every time you come home from work. Same with Harley.

Enjoy <3

[suguru-getos]

sugu leans against the couch, his lips are pursed and an unimpressed, rather annoyed expression plagues his otherwise close-eyed smile. he manspreads, leaning back against the couch, the position he is most used to, leaning his apples against his palm and clicking his tongue.

the reason for said annoyance, you.

well, not you exactly — your work.

you, his beloved wife, was stationed against the bed, leaned against the headboard. wearing the anti-glare glasses that he forced you to get habitual to, wearing your silly little headphones and humming. “yeah, yeah i understand, mmhm~ no but what if we could circle back on this approach once again? i just wonder—”

like an annoyed cat, he has been staring into the crevices of your soul. you know he’s gazing. his feline stare is sizing you up like the little prey you are. you don’t want to make eye contact with him right now. you know… he’s upset. but you can’t help but fight the subtle smirk you get from thinking about your dearest, beloved husband losing patience. so? you glance up, making eye contact with him, clicking your tongue and giving him a flying kiss.

suguru groans, eyes rolling back at the power of just your flying kiss alone. you really, got him wrapped around your teensy little finger. the way his heart flutters at the slightest affections from you… needs to be studied. you burst into the tiniest little chuckle at that, how alluring.

suguru waits, like a patient monk. even if it’s threading thin astronomically with every passing moment; and just when your meeting finishes, he pounces. you shriek in surprise, laughing. “oh my goodness suguru—“

he cages you in his arms, one hand quickly shoving your laptop to the side, a small bunny-like curse comes out to yank the entire device away from you and place it on your coffee table. suguru is very careful around you, you’re fragile after all. he doesn’t even want your pretty brows to scrunch looking at a ghastly curse. bunny curses, little cute puppy curses… god knows how he found those, work as his puppets for him around you.

“finally, she has time for me.” suguru complains, nipping at your earlobe. “mm~ i always have time for you sweetheart.” you soothe, caressing his back as he peppers featherlike kisses all over your pretty face.

“lies.” he feigns anger, nipping your jaw as a faux punishment.

“mm~ not a lie, i promise.” you stand your ground, child-like naivety that he cultivated in your eyes always balming any insecurity that harbors within him.

how could he think of himself as the monster when you look at him like that?

“your working hours are making me reconsider… my old job.” he scoffs, hugging you tenderly and caging you in his arms. you lean against his chest, purring like a baby cat with a smug grin.

“oh yeah?” you chuckled, you know he’s kidding. he wouldn’t ever kill the so-called monkeys again. you’re one of them, now — they are people to be protected again, they are people who are here so people like him could take care of them. however, you alone… comprise in those people for him. he wouldn’t kill any other non-sorcerer just because… sure, but he wouldn’t harbour affections and devotions against them either. only you get that.

“i’m gonna protect them against you, and beat your ass.” you hummed, listening to his heartbeat and letting your eyes rest.

“mhm~ sure.” suguru kisses the crown of your head.

“you can beat my ass all you want once you wake up, little one.”

you just hum in a response, letting him coddle you and baby you with affection as you drift off to slumber.

[coquettefrancaise]

the other woman

by Lana Del Rey

pair: Azriel x Reader ~ 1.9k

warnings: fluff, a few sexual references, one enormous cat lol

summary: after being mated for nearly a decade, Azriel has kept a huge secret of special females in his life from you… and they're not a part of the inner circle

Normally you didn’t like to poke fun at outward appearances but you just had to make an exception for the figure standing in front of you. You could come up with a few apt descriptions for it: fat, chunky, sturdy, well-fed… enormous. The latter seemed to fit perfectly. 

You’d been tending to your garden when you heard a soft meow. Sitting just outside the picket fence of your property was an enormous siamese cat. Incandescent blue eyes watched your every move with an intense, albeit bored, gaze. 

Standing and brushing off your outdoor trousers, you approached the cat with careful steps. It simply watched, unamused with your caution. “Why hello there kitty,” you cooed, hand outreached. 

Azriel had taught you long ago that you should wait for animals to approach you to avoid having their claws sunken in your skin. The same also went for strange males. 

So you waited. And waited. 

Apparently this cat, who appeared to have eaten multiple other cats, wished to test your patience as its eyes flickered from your hand to your face. Almost mockingly. 

You rolled your eyes and searched for something within reach that might lure it closer when you remembered something. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a wrinkled bag of dried apricot, forgotten in the back of your mind as you pulled weeds and prepared the soil for planting. 

The cat’s ears perked up at the crinkling of the bag and you smirked.

You tore a smaller piece of apricot off and got into position once more. To your unsurprise, the cat prowled, or rather sashayed, to your offering, nipping it from your fingers before nosing your palm for more. 

“Greedy little shit,” you huffed under your breath before giving it another and another until it was practically purring on your lap. Your hand petted over its soft fur, warmed from being under the springtime sun as you clicked your tongue affectionately. “Would you like to meet my husband? He might be a little intimidating at first but I assure you he’s a sweetheart under all his gruff.”

The cat continued purring in response so you scooped her into your arms, along with the half-eaten bag of dried apricots to satiate her if needs be, and headed inside. “Who needs Valkyrie training when I could carry you all day?”

Once inside, you took off the gardening hat Elain had given you for a Solstice gift one year. She’d been the one to teach you how to maintain soil best and which season was best to grow what. Before her help, you had never managed to keep a succulent alive, despite it being the ‘easiest plant to take care of’. You called bullshit. But now you were a proud owner of not one but two! garden boxes.

On slow days like this where you and Azriel had no social or work obligations, you enjoyed either having your hand buried in soil or your nose buried in a book. Azriel would keep to his study, unable to disregard centuries of overworking, or he’d annoy you. Which would end with either his hand or head up your skirts. Who were you to complain? 

You forewent washing your hands, not wanting to let go of the behemoth of a cat in your arms, and you strode directly for the study, pushing it open to reveal your mate in all his glory. 

Even though you’d been mated for nearly a decade, every time you saw him your heart sped and your tummy fluttered with butterflies. He was signing reports, raven hair falling over his furrowed tan brow. “Brought a visitor, my love?” His midnight voice caressed your ears despite not looking up. 

You caught sight of a dark wisp racing from your shoe to his shoulder. Sometimes you forgot he kept tabs on you ‘for safety and protection’ he once told you. To some it may seem a violation of privacy but if it eased Azriel’s worries over you then you were fine with it. Besides, you’ve come to adore the tendrils of darkness. 

You hauled the cat further up in your arms, grunting with the effort. “This enormous creature was prowling about my gardens, in search of something to eat, no doubt.”

Azriel finally straightened and blinked. “Shadow is always hungry, as you can tell.” He motioned to her excessive pouch. 

You gaped. “Shadow?”

He got to his feet and crossed to where you stood, the scent of night-chilled mist and cedar clouded your senses. One of his large scarred hands stroked the cat, Shadow, with a confusing familiarity. 

“I forget that I don’t need to keep secrets from you after spending my entire life doing so with everyone else around me.” He confessed sheepishly, hazel eyes connecting with yours. 

“First question: if this cat is named Shadow, then what are the names of your actual shadows?”

He shrugged, the shadows in question wreathing his broad shoulders and the tips of his wings which protruded from his back. One strayed, curling around the nape of your neck. “They became angry with me the first time I referred to them as one entity so I’ve thrown out dozens of names with no direct association to one exact wisp.” He explained coolly. 

You giggled at that. “Your enemies would quake in their boots if they heard how sympathetic and fair you are with your shadows which have been known to choke men out from the inside, you know?”

A corner of his lip turned up. “They wouldn’t be quite so scared if they saw the way my shadows cuddle up next to my wife in the early hours of the day.”

“I suppose not.” Pink dusted your cheeks and you cleared your throat. “Back to the matter at hand. The cat.” I lifted my arms for emphasis. “How long have you been seeing her behind my back?”

Azriel plucked her from your arms, cradling her to his chest as if he’d done so a hundred times. “Oh, this old lady? She’s been in my life longer than you have, my love. I believe she might be older than me as well.”

“She’s probably as old as she weighs.”

He snorts at that amusedly. “Where’d you find her?”

“I told you, she was scouring my garden for food. I gave her some dried apricot and lured her into my arms. She is quite a stink, you know?”

“It’s the breed.” He informed you, petting his knuckle under her chin to which she melted further into him. Growing strangely jealous, you glared at her. Azriel noticed this with a chuckle and sent a fresh wave of love and amusement down the bond. “Jealous over a cat, my love?”

Insufferable male. 

“I heard that.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes. Insufferable mating bond. “Why don’t you just tell me how you know this cat. And why the hell is it so fat?” you snarked. 

A rare smile tugged at his lips. He leaned in close to brush them against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves of pleasure down your spine. “No other creature could compare to you, darling mate. The way you squeeze my co-”

You silenced him with a hand clamped over his mouth, to which his eyes crinkled at. He pulled back before reaching a hand for yours. “I’m going to take you someplace only I know of.”

You press into his side and hesitantly. “I swear if it’s our room…” you warned. Soon the room around you disappears into darkness and then you’re in the backyard of Rosehall, Azriel’s mother’s cottage. You glance around, confused as to what he has to show you here. 

He tugs you towards the small shed in the corner of the yard, ivy growing along the stone walls and wooden door chipped from years of use. When you’d asked about this structure his mother had referred to it as her storage. You’d never been inside until now. 

Inside the surprisingly spacious shed were over a dozen cats. 

“Oh my gods,” you breathed, 

Azriel set down the enormous cat in his arms and she immediately strode to a tall scratching post, growling at any cat in her way. You couldn’t help but snicker at her asserted dominance. 

You looked to your husband, who you thought you knew everything about, and raised your brows for an explanation. 

He raked a hand through his hair and leaned his back against the doorframe. “About two centuries ago I was here, visiting my mother, when I had a little visitor come to my windowsill. I convinced mother to allow her to stay and so she fed her cream and treats everyday, spoiling the creature. That was Shadow. As you can see, she’s been used to the princess treatment and hugely fond of the food. Since then, I’d been on and off missions at the time and it seemed that every time I was away a new one would follow me. I couldn’t just leave them in those horrible places, so I brought them each here. It appears that I’m some sort of…”

“Pussy magnet.” You supplied before you burst into laughter. 

Azriel chucked a finger under your chin. “So it’s alright if you make jokes about that but not me? Besides, you fell victim as well, might I remind you.”

Heat flamed your cheeks and you snapped your teeth at his fingers. Damn him. 

He only smiled before continuing his story, “Anyway,” he gave you a pointed look to which you raised your hands in defence, “I built this shed for them and Shadow is basically their superior, as she’d prefer it to be put.”

"Big Sister, huh?" you nodded as you took in all the cats lounging about, a couple brushing their bodies against your legs. Although they were quite plump, none even came close to the enormity of Shadow.

How endearing, you thought as you practically melted on the spot. Surely no one would take a look at this six-foot something Illyrian male, with literal weaponized shadows at his beck and call, and peg him for someone who would adopt stray cats.

“You surprise me every single day, shadowsinger.” You looped your arms around his neck, pulling him down so your nose could rest against his. 

“In a good way I hope.” He whispered, fingers digging into your hips as he tugged you impossibly closer. 

You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Only ever in a good way.”

Before he could respond, a loud meow broke your moment. Glancing down, Shadow was at your feet, watching you both expectantly. You looked at Azriel once more, meeting his eyes, and you both giggled. 

“Hungry?” you inquired as you fished out the apricots once again, giving her a full one. One by one, the other cats sidled up to you, sniffing at your treat. “I’m not entirely sure I’ve enough to go around.”

Azriel walked over to a carpet covered armoire, probably used as a scratching post, and opened it to reveal that it was stocked with cat food. “That’s where that portion of money disappears to.” You click your tongue. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m still getting used to sharing all my truths with someone. I swear that after this I’ll do better.”

You pull his face down to pepper kisses on it. “I completely understand. You have so many enemies and so much to protect. If I were in your shoes I’d be just as guarded. And, if anything, it can’t be as bad as Cassian hiding his submissive kink from Nesta until he called her ‘mommy’ at that one family dinner.”

“Actually…”

author's note: this is an ode to my own fat cat <3 Jajeet... this one is for you!

I've admired this fandom for as long as I've had Tumblr, so over two years, and I've thought about writing for it and building a camaraderie with the talented artists I've read from so here I am, with my meager offering :)

divider credit: cafekitsune

[theonewiththefanfics]

Homecoming (one-shot)

Synopsys: When Y/N goes missing during a simple supply run, she comes back with world-shattering news for Astarion. News he never thought to hear, and now he has a decision to make, one that will shift his life on its axis once more.

Set after the main events of BG3

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, a bit of SMUT, but nothing explicit

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit, kidnapping

Word count: 8397

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Part 2(ish) - Love Conquers All (one-shot)

A home was not something to ever be taken for granted, that much they had learned during their adventures.

A home was a fire slowly crackling in the hearth, warmth expanding through the living room. A home was Astarion sitting on a loveseat, a book in his hands while he waited for his love to finish puttering around in the kitchen. A home was drying tea leaves and making preserves for the coming winter as she shooed him out, saying that his fussing would only hinder her process.

He’d huffed, puffed and whined, trying to make Y/N pull away from her plans just so they could curl up and read together, but she was adamant.

“I’ve already started.” She dropped an orange peel and pressed some lemon juice into the steaming pot. “It’ll be wasted produce if I just leave it now.”

“But it will take you hours!” Astarion whined like a child and even stomped his foot, making her snort.

“And it will take me twice as long if you don’t stop annoying me.” Y/N threw him a saccharine smile over her shoulder, batting her lashes at the pouting vampire. “Now, be a good boy, and quit pestering me. We’ll have all the time in the world, once I’m done.”

Astarion just groaned, going up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, the incisors he usually sank into her neck now nipping at her lobe. “I can be a very good boy if you only let me prove it.”

“My love, you will be getting absolutely no sex from me, if you don’t let me at least finish this batch.” A shiver rushed down her spine as he licked at her neck, so close to that sweet spot he always used as a place to bite and drink from. But she had to be strong. The jams wouldn’t make themselves. “Every additional minute you keep me from this will be an additional day of your dry spell.”

The vampire spawn jumped back from her as if he’d been scalded, scarlet eyes narrowing in on her. “You wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t last an hour!”

Y/N turned around, crossing her arms as a devious smile bloomed on her lips, a brow raised in challenge. “Would you like to test those waters?”

Astarion stood, staring her down. His crimson gaze was blazing from underneath his lashes, but she didn’t budge. They’d played this game for close to three years as a couple now, and she’d learned very quickly – Astarion was very much so a cat. But especially – he was a cat that liked to knock things over while keeping direct eye contact with you, though the second you placed a palm underneath whatever it was he wanted for to fall, all his need for chaos disappeared. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

For twenty long seconds, Y/N and her pale elven lover didn’t break, hoping the other would crumble and be announced as the loser, but part of what he loved about her, was her stubbornness. It was because of that part of her personality, she’d stuck by him when his doubts had crept in, when his own mind called him worthless and not good enough for her, almost as if to spite those vicious words in his mind. She didn’t give up on the people she loved, and as luck would have it, Astarion owned her heart.

But Y/N also knew how to handle a cat like him, so just after a few more tense moments, his eye twitched, and he huffed in defeat.

“Fine,” he scoffed. “But if you are not done by sundown, I shall have no other option but to drag you away from the stove. Kicking and screaming preferred.”

Y/N simply shook her head, and went to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling the man into a deep, breathless kiss, but not before nipping at his bottom lip, dragging the piece of flesh between her teeth and making him let out a desperate moan. “I’ll even let you tie me up if you wish to do so.”

Astarion’s pupils almost swallowed the red irises in a matter of seconds, as he threw his head back in a groan. “My love, you’re absolutely killing me here.”

“Then I hope whatever punishment you deem fit for me, will be just oh, so sweet.” Y/N stepped back, untangling herself from him, but the mischievousness in her eyes didn’t lessen.

She could see how the words tortured him, how it took every single last piece of his fraying self-control, to not rip off her apron and the clothes underneath and just lay her down on the kitchen table, legs spread with his mouth licking into her until she orgasmed.

With eyes holding nothing but pure lust and hands clenching and unclenching, Astarion retreated. Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t hot and bothered and absolutely dripping between her thighs, and the thought of finishing those jams was the last thing on her mind, but she did have to do it. If only to keep him waiting longer, knowing whatever his beautiful brain was cooking up would leave her screaming and shaking for hours.

They’d been growing their own vegetables and fruits, Y/N tending to them during the nights to spend more time with Astarion as he fussed over his flower gardens, so it would simply be wasteful to leave their berries to rot. The year had been very generous and offered a variety of things to gather, so a while back, she’d decided to pickle some of the tomatoes and cucumbers, turn another batch of peppers and tomatillos into sauces while the sweeter things would be turned into syrups and jams.

Y/N shook her head, trying to clear it from the haze of lust, as the aroma of lemons and cranberries, raspberries and oranges wafted all around, encasing her in the scent. She was just about to add the sugar when the tin rattled with the sound of the last grains left.

Her brow furrowed as she opened the lid and looked inside. Sure, enough it was empty.

The woman huffed. She was absolutely positive she’d gotten the right amount during the last trip, but somewhere along the way it seemed a miscalculation had happened, and now she had to get more. Y/N would have asked Astarion, and had the sun dipped below the horizon, he would have jumped at the request, but alas his little vampiric predicament forbade him from walking during the day, the sun still high in the sky from what she could see through a tiny slit in the shutters.

Quickly, Y/N snuffed out the flame below the pot, untied her dirtied apron and grabbed a basket from the pantry, tying a pouch of coins to her side. She only needed sugar, but maybe she would grab some other necessities as well. They were low on Astarion’s favourite wine, one he claimed didn’t taste like vinegar at least.

“I’m off to the market really quick,” Y/N announced as she peeked into the living room, taking in Astarion as he flipped a page in a book. “Do you want anything?”

“No, my love.” He looked at her like a love-sick puppy. “Just your darling self back as quick as you can. I have picked up some… inspiration for your punishment if you will. Just as you suggested, of course.” He closed the book, showing the cover to her.

Heat crawled all over her body as she read the title, one of her smuttier romances she had started to read, and when she could do nothing but gulp and nod, his smile turned from a sweet one into a wicked-fanged thing. It was all she needed to know whatever awaited her once she was done would leave her unable to walk. Gods, she needed to finish this whole thing up as quickly as she could.

Y/N was out the doors like the wind, the usual stroll to the market cut from half an hour into a brisk fifteen-minute jog, the thoughts of the man waiting back home for her at the forefront of her mind.

The needed sugar, some coffee beans, a loaf of fresh bread, Astarion’s wine and some sour cream were all bought in quick succession, Y/N didn’t even try to haggle. Her eyes drifted across various stalls and merchants and she almost deemed it done when her gaze caught onto a rose seedling. It was a beautiful bloom with blood-red petals that whitened at the very tips. She smiled and went to buy it. Astarion would love the symbolism even if a bit too on the nose.

Once satisfied with everything, Y/N marched across the market and was back on the road to home. It was a humble little house they’d purchased with whatever had been left in their pockets after all was said and done with the tadpoles, but Astarion had bigger plans. This was only a temporary situation.

“I want a whole room full of books. Nothing but books from one end to the other and then some,” he’d confided in Y/N one night after both were panting and spent from multiple rounds of bringing the other to ecstasy.

“And a large ballroom,” he continued, and Y/N couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped her.

“A ballroom? And what will we do with that?”

“Why, have grand balls, of course!” He threw his hands up in the air as if her question was preposterous.

“Star…” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him from where she was lying on his naked chest. “You hate people. A ballroom full of them – it would be your literal nightmare.”

“I don’t hate people.”

“I don’t count.”

“Alright,” he conceded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Y/N placed her palm atop where his heart was and rested her chin on it, looking deep into his eyes. “I hate most people, simply dislike them, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a get-together, from time to time. Maybe… maybe see our friends. Catch up on how they’re doing. I absolutely despise to admit this and will say you are lying if you ever mention it to anyone, but I – I miss them… even Gale…”

A gentle smile lifted her lips as she brushed a wild curl out of his face and tucked it behind his pointy ear. “I think I’d really like that too.”

His eyes were so soft and full of love, that Y/N swore she could feel his heart beating once more in his chest, thudding against her palm in a confession of adoration.

She was almost out of the city by that point, already on the small, secluded road leading to their house which lay on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate right by the edges of the woods, so Astarion had easier access to game in between feeding on her when her attention was drawn back by someone calling out.

“Miss!” the voice, male she made out, yelled after her. “Miss, please wait!”

Instantly, her guard was up, but when a breathless man, looking to be in his late sixties appeared from behind a copse of trees, she somewhat relaxed. Y/N was still cautious, but if anything, she had a dagger holstered against her thigh. She was always prepared.

“Miss,” he gasped out, leaning his hands against his knees to catch his breath. “Miss, you are a quick one. I’ve been calling for you since by the rose stalls."

“Oh, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you!” Y/N said but didn’t move forward. “How can I help?”

He huffed, as if regaining her breath, before fishing out a piece of fabric from his pocket, and extending it towards her. “You dropped this by the flowers.”

When she took a closer look at what he was holding, it seemed to be some sort of a silk scarf. She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t own silk scarves and definitely hadn’t worn one on such a warm day. “You must have mixed me up with someone, as it’s not mine. Sorry, for you to have troubled yourself like this.”

“No.” The man furrowed his brow, taking a step closer. “I am fairly certain I saw you drop it. Such a fine piece… didn’t want you to lose it.”

Y/N took a step back, angling herself in a defensive position with the basket in front of her. She didn’t like the tone he was speaking in, nor the way his eyes seemed to be appraising her. “No,” she asserted. “It’s not mine.”

His back stiffened, eyes growing cold, the grip on the scarf tightening as he hummed. “Well… a pity then.”        

She took another step back, but he was already lunging at her.

Dropping the basket to the ground, she reached for the knife strapped at her thigh, but he was quick as a viper as she hadn’t even noticed when a rope appeared in his hands, lashing it at her. Years of having fought had kept her agile and aware, but years of domestic bliss with Astarion had dulled her senses a bit.

The rope caught and wrapped around her ankle, knocking her to the ground. Y/N’s teeth clattered and snapped, her tongue almost in between them, but as he rushed to pin her down, she twisted her leg around the rope and pulled, making the man lose his balance and stumble.

It was enough for her to swipe her leg underneath his, and send him sprawling. It was enough for her to untangle her legs and roll away as he snapped it at her head. Her clothes were dirty as was her face, but it didn’t matter. She’d cover herself in blood if needed.

It was almost animalistic how she pounced – teeth bared, a snarl ripping from her throat and hands forming claws as if she would gouge at his face with just his nails, but as her palm brushed her thigh, unclipping the holster for her dagger, Y/N didn’t see the man had crouched on his knee and swung the cord.

It knocked the air out of her, as it wrapped around her chest, and he pulled her down, hard. Her ribs were screaming as the tether tightened and tightened with every pull, but as she thought this would be it, something strange happened – instead of offering her the killing blow, he opened a palm, now covered in a leather glove, and blew the contents of it onto her face.

Y/N coughed and sputtered, but whatever it was, was fast-acting and her lungs, still incapable of proper breathing due to the rope couldn’t expel it. In just a few seconds, the bright day around her turned into darkness.

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious for, but enough time had passed to dry out her throat. Or was that a side effect of whatever was blown into her face? In any case, as she slowly came to, Y/N noted there was a soft mattress under her body, which was an oddity for someone kidnapped. She could even tell the dagger was still by her thigh, the comforting weight of the blade pressed under her. Even weirder, if you asked her, to not disarm your victims.

Darkness still encompassed her, but the soft cloth against her cheeks told her she hadn’t permanently lost her vision, but with her sight obscured, she had to rely on her ears. That’s when voices invaded her senses.

There were three people somewhere further away, most likely in a different room if taken by how muffled the words were. She focused harder on what they were saying.

Two men and a female, Y/N differentiated, when the woman spoke.

“This is not what we agreed upon!” she hissed, and a grumbly-sounding man scoffed.

“You said to get her to you. I did. You never specified how.” It was the same man who’d knocked her out.

“We want her to help us!” A different male voice, this one softer, even kinder, rebutted. “I highly doubt kidnapping is a good incentive for that!”

“Look,” her assailant said. “I fulfilled my end of the deal. She is unhurt, maybe she'll sport a couple of bruises and a headache, but that is her own fault. She could have come willingly but didn’t. Other than that, though – she is completely fine. Now you do your part!”

As the trio argued between themselves, more angry whispers than shouting, Y/N started to shimmy her hands which had been bound, out of the restraints. She had a good inclination they needed her alive but had no want of staying as a prisoner.

Though her fighting skills seemed to have mellowed, which she was not happy about, even a couple of years without mortally dangerous adventures, hadn’t changed how quickly she could slip her wrists from their bindings.  Astarion might need to get more creative during their debauchery.

Y/N froze the second she heard a door open and shut, two pairs of footsteps moving closer and closer to where she was. Her breathing was shallow and almost imperceptible, as she tried to make it look like she was still unconscious.

She could sense two bodies enter the room and one move to stand where she faced, the other going to her back.

Y/N tensed. In just a few moments, whoever was behind her, would notice her undone binds. But she’d be ready.

“Darling, please be careful,” the woman said, a tremble in her voice.

Good. Let them be scared.

“Don’t worry,” the man replied. “I’ll just make sure she’s – what in the -”

But Y/N was already up, the blindfold off and ready to pounce. This time, she’d have the upper hand.

For a second, the light in the room blinded her, but her sight refocused fast enough to take in her captors’ faces.

The woman was beautiful, with high rosy cheekbones, and jade green eyes so vivid they looked like actual gemstones. Her hair was long and dark, down to her waist while grey strands seemed to have invaded the brown tresses in some places, but she was still ethereally gorgeous, her pointy ears covered in piercings.

Y/N snapped out of the shock quicker and using this to her advantage, she was behind her in a matter of a blink, her dagger pressed tight against her throat.

A gasp entered her ears, but she just pressed the blade harder, making her whimper.

“Please!” the man made her look at him, but instead of bracing for an attack, he had his hands up in surrender. “Please don’t hurt her! We just want to talk.”

“Funny way of having a conversation you’ve got there.” Y/N tightened her grip on the knife, surveying the man. Again, those same pointed ears, but his eyes were the most brilliant blue she’d ever seen and his face was marred with more age lines than the woman’s, yet he still was as gorgeous as she. “Typically, only my enemies would knock me out and tie me up before spilling their grand plans. But I will be kind and give you a choice – what would you like to be – friends or foes?”

“Friends! Friends! Please! We – we’re looking for our son!” the elven man pleaded. “And we – we heard a rumour that you might know him. Have even seen him.”

Y/N narrowed her Y/E/C eyes, piercing his with her gaze. “I’ve known and seen a lot of people. Usually, others just ask me about them, they don’t have someone kidnap me.”

“And we’re sorry, we’re so very sorry, but we had to make sure you came. It went too far and we apologise, but please…” He took in a deep breath, worried eyes flipping between his partner and her. “Our son – his name is Astarion. Astarion Ancunin. Have you – do you know of him?”

Hearing his name, knocked the breath out of her as if they’d snapped a rope around her chest again, making her stumble back. Her grip on the woman released, and she used the moment to leap over to her partner, using the bed as a buffer. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her half behind his back, but not before checking if Y/N’s dagger had pierced the skin.

Tears brimmed in the eleven woman’s green eyes as she looked at her, not even caring that just a moment before she was so close to having her blood dripping on the floor. “Please,” she whispered. “I – I know we didn’t go about it the right way, but please… is it true he’s alive?”

"I,” Y/N stammered, her gaze snapping back and forth between the two.

Astarion.

They were Astarion’s parents.

Even after all this time, they were searching for their missing son.

Y/N should have noticed the details – how the woman had a small mole on her cheek right where Astarion did, how the shape of the man’s eyes was the exact same as his son’s. Astarion even had the same high cheekbones as his mother while his sharp jaw was that of his father.

What had his eyes been like before? Green like his mother’s or the sky blue of his father's? What had he been like as a child? No doubt as mischievous and scheme-prone as he was now, but who had he gotten it from? So many different questions rattled through Y/N’s brain as she kept glancing back and forth, before shaking her head and pulling her out of the shocked stupor.

“You – you’re Ancunins?” She had to ask. Had to make sure she hadn’t overheard them or maybe hallucinating because of the powder she’d inhaled.

“Yes.” The woman nodded, brushing tears from under her eyes. “Our son has been missing for more than two hundred years, and we almost lost hope until… until we heard about you and your company a few years back. How one of the party members resembled our little Star so much.”

They hadn’t been inconspicuous, though they had tried, so it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that tales of their adventures had gone far and wide, especially after saving Baldur’s Gate, killing Cazador and the absolute, and Gods know how many other evils along the way. But she never thought Astarion’s parents would have heard of it.

In fact, Astarion had barely even mentioned them over the years, and, for whatever reason, Y/N had concluded they must have passed, despite knowing elves lived extremely long lives. Had he maybe tried to find them on his own and couldn’t? Or had he forgotten about them?

Until Astarion and Y/N had become an official couple and she’d commissioned a portrait of him as a gift on an anniversary, he hadn’t even seen himself in two centuries. He’d forgotten what he looked like. It didn’t seem too crazy to assume, the memories of his parents’ names or their faces, might’ve slipped away as well, or even the love they had for him. Especially knowing how deeply Cazador had ruined that notion for him.

She needed to get home. She needed to see Astarion, and then she could figure out what to do.

“I need to go.” Y/N nodded to herself, muttering under her breath. “I need to think.”

“No, please!” the woman lunged, trying to grasp at her, but she had a knife pointed at her chest in an instant, making the elf shrivel back, but still, she pleaded. “Please help us. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate! If you can’t help, who will?”

“I promise I will do my best,” Y/N said. “But I need time… I – I need to figure all of this out.”

Her mind was swirling like a hurricane, but the man interrupted her breakdown as she realised how pretty much her in-laws, had kidnapped her. “At least tell us this – is – is it true he is alive? Or have we travelled across Faerun under the pretences of false hope?”

In truth, Y/N wanted to take them by the arms and drag them to her house, but whether Astarion wanted to reach out and reconnect, was up to him. That sort of a choice was not hers to make, but she could grant them this one request.

“He is.” Y/N nodded.

And then she left as quickly as she could because if she had to stand there and watch as the elves crumbled into one another, cries of relief and joy escaping into the slowly setting day, she would crumble too. Their faces were already permanently burned into her mind, and she needed a moment to process everything.

By a stroke of luck or fate, Y/N instantly recognised she was in the woods on the other side of Baldur’s Gate, so retracing her steps to the market was fairly easy even though the whole way back home, she was pretty much stumbling around in a daze, knocking into people and tripping over her own two legs.

Her discarded basket was right where she’d left it, gold coins scattered around it. The pouch must’ve broken during the struggle. Y/N made sure to pick every single piece up and was more than relieved to see, that the rose bloom was still intact.

By the time she arrived, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and as the last rays warmed her back, she extended her palm to open the door, though she didn’t even get to touch the handle as it was ripped open by a visibly distressed Astarion.

His eyes looked like he’d been crying, his hair as if he’d been relentlessly raking his fingers through the locks and his lower lip so bitten, there was a small hole where one of his incisors had gone through.

“Oh, thank the Gods!” Astairon instantly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in a bone-crushing hug, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “Thank the Gods!”

Y/N dropped the basket over the threshold and closed the door with her foot, her own arms weaving around his middle, a palm soothingly brushing along his side, as he soaked her in.

“I’m alright, Star,” she said, kissing his temple and didn’t even make a noise as he gripped her waist tighter, right where bruises were forming. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I’m alright.”

“What happened? You said you’d be quick, but you were gone for hours! And you know what the worst part was – I couldn’t even go out looking for you because of the damned fucking sun!” Astarion cupped her face, turning it this way and that way, trying to find any injuries, but the biggest one would be in her head as she tried to figure out how to explain to him what had happened. “Gods, I am never letting you out of my sight again!”

Y/N indulged the vampire in the hug he pulled her in, holding him against her chest, trying to comfort him, but she was way too consumed with her new findings. Too quickly, as evident by the frown on Astarion’s face, she untangled herself from the embrace, anxiety immediately flashing over his handsome features.

She slid her arms from around his waist to take his palms into hers. “I – I don’t even know how to say this… How do you say something like that?”

Worry instantly marred his brow, and Y/N pressed a practised thumb between them, trying to soothe them away.

“Shit…” he muttered. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No!” She cupped his cheeks. “Astarion you’ve done nothing!”

“Then – then what?” He was tentative, still, scared Y/N might be angry at him. Or worse – wanted to leave, but her next words erased all that doubt.

“I…” She took in a deep breath. “Astarion, I met your parents today.”

Whatever he had expected, clearly that hadn’t been it. Probably a confession she’d met a past love, that their feelings were reignited and she wanted to go with them. But definitely not that.

He blinked once, twice, trice, completely and utterly stupefied before a small whisper of “What?” passed his lips.

“It’s why I’m so late,” Y/N explained. “They’d heard a rumour, that I knew you and had travelled with you during our tadpole situation, and came to me. Astarion, your parents are looking for you…”

A million thoughts seemed to swirl in his head, but Y/N held onto his hand through all of them.

“What,” he cleared his throat, “what did you tell them?”

“That I’d find them once I figured out what to do?”

“Which means?”

“Which means I would come home, give you this information and let you figure out what you’d like to do…”

So many emotions flashed across his face, but Y/N no longer needed that mind flayer tadpole connection it created – Astarion was an open book for her to read.

Joy. Such indisputable joy shone in his scarlet eyes before being consumed by confusion. Then anger and disgust and love, but by the end of it all his heart settled on one feeling – fear.

It’s what it knew best, though Y/N had tried her hardest to reduce it to ashes, yet still it lingered. She understood it, despite not being happy he ever had to feel it.

He feared what to do, what would be the right choice to make, he feared their reactions and what they would say of his disappearance or of his newest… condition. Would they accept him? Or would they be repulsed by him?

“What – what would I even say to them?” Astarion searched her Y/E/C eyes as if they held an answer, but when one magically didn’t appear, he hung his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I can’t even remember what they looked like. Their names, the house we used to live in… it’s all a fog.”

Y/N tried to give him an encouraging smile. “Well, your mother – she has the most beautiful green eyes. Like that dress you made for me for Summer Solstice, that same shade. And – and she has a little beauty mark on her cheek.” With a gentle thumb, she brushed over the mole. “Right in that same spot.”

His brows furrowed in concentration; his lips pinched tightly. “I – I remember blue eyes. Not green.”

“That might be your father's. His are azure I’d say. Like the summer sky. Gods, Astarion,” Y/N breathed out. “You look so much like them, but… honestly, the only thing you need to know right now is that they looked relieved.” Her voice was soothing as he tried to find lies in her words, but there would be none. “I didn’t tell them anything apart from the fact that you’re alive, and all I saw was complete and utter relief.”

Y/N placed a strand of hair behind his ear as he pondered. His carmine eyes slid to hers. “Do they want to see me?”

“Yes. It was the whole reason they sought me out because I might have a single scrap of information on you.” She’d mention the kidnapping later. Or maybe never, depending on how everything went. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Is it,” he hesitated, as if ashamed to be asking such a question. “Is it alright if I think this over for a bit? I’m just – there’s so much going on in my head…”

“Of course, Star!” Y/N cupped his cheeks and placed a reassuring kiss on his forehead. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, his shoulders dropping, but she just shook her head.

“Nothing to thank me for. Not for this.”

And so, they continued on like that for a few days – Y/N didn’t bring the subject up, but she made sure Astarion knew, she’d be there whenever he needed to talk. Yet her mind couldn’t help but worry about the two elves in that little cottage on the other side of the town. How horrid it must be to wait for an answer that might never come, but her love was her first and only priority. When he decided it would be time, she’d support him no matter what.

It was a week after the revelation (and subsequent freakout on Astarion’s part when Y/N had removed her clothes before him, and he saw the raw skin and bruises on her ribs. She spent the whole night convincing him it was fine and talking him down from hunting the mercenary and bleeding him dry. She didn’t mention it had been his parents who’d hired him but rather said it had been an unfortunate coincidence), when Astarion awoke with a certain determination, shaking her awake.

She swatted at him like an insect buzzing by her ear. “Leave me be, you blood-sucking, elf!” Y/N grumbled, burying herself under the duvet. “It’s too early. And stop hogging the covers!”

She was just about to elbow him in the ribs if he didn’t let her sleep more, but what he said was like cold ice being poured over her, waking her up completely.

“I think I want to see my parents.”

Y/N was sat in a second. The sheet dropped down, exposing her naked chest, but she didn’t even feel the chilly air biting at her skin, even though Astarion’s gaze immediately dropped down to her breasts, eyes blazing with want.

Rolling her own eyes, she pulled the cover so that it obscured her indecency. Though it was his favourite outfit of hers, they needed to focus on the important things. “Are you sure? You can take all the time you need. There is no rush to this, and it’s a huge decision to make.”

“I’m sure,” Astarion sighed, running a hand through his moon-white locks and dropping back onto the pillows. “It’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about.”

Y/N worried her lip before sliding back down next to him, letting him wrap his arms around her body. She knew in moments like these, Astarion needed reassurance, and he craved being close to her. Holding her grounded him, and made his scattered thoughts into something solid.

She kissed right above where his heart lay. “If, you’re sure.”

“I am… I just… Will you be there?” Astarion looked down at her.

The woman gave him a smile. “Nowhere I’d rather be than by your side.”

Gently, he brushed a finger against her cheekbone and leaned to kiss her, thankful he’d found someone to walk the world with, especially during the moments he feared he might break.

The day before they’d decided on meeting, Y/N ventured out to the cabin to inform the elven couple of Astarion’s decision. Once they’d seen her walking up through the window, they were out before she even managed to get to the door, faces full of hope.

“Astarion, he wants to come and see you, but there are some… conditions…”

His mother’s brow furrowed, the grimace so familiar it sent a pang through Y/N’s heart, but she swallowed it. “Whatever he needs. Whatever you both need. Anything for our little Star.”

“So… please just don’t question this, but umm… physical contact – I know I can’t possibly understand how you feel, but let him come to you first. It might not make sense, but it’s important that he is the one to make that step.”

“Of course,” Astarion's father nodded, his mother eagerly agreeing.

“And umm… he’ll be different. He might not look like the elf you remember him being. The world wasn’t kind to him for a long time… Please don’t mention this.”

Pain flashed across their faces at her words. They must have assumed something horrible had happened to him, but to have it confirmed was a different kind of agony. But as Y/N had asked – they didn’t question, simply nodded, holding onto one another a bit tighter.

“Alright.” Her heart was somewhat settled. “Thank you. We – uh- we’ll see you later tonight then.”

And with that, she left only to find Astarion pacing the inside of their hallway upon her return.

“Is it sundown already?” He snapped his neck to her as she removed her cloak, visibly upset when Y/N shook her head.

“A couple more hours, I’m afraid,” she said, taking his hand and kissing his palm, placing it against her cheek. “Please stop worrying. It will all be alright.”          

“But what if I’m making a mistake?”

She raised her brow. “Do you think you’re making a mistake?”

“N-no?” Astarion huffed. “I don’t know. I know I want to see them at least once, but what if it’s best to leave the past in the past? Why torture myself and exhume it, so to speak?”

“You can leave it all behind if that’s what you wish. But, Star, you also have the rarest of opportunities people get – a second chance.” She stepped close to him, pulling his head down by the nape of his neck so they could rest their foreheads against one another. “But you can always leave. You can always say “no.” And if someone doesn’t get that, no matter who they might be, I will gut them navel to throat.”

Astarion chuckled, brushing his nose against hers. “My knight in bloody armour, always ready to ride into battle for me.”

Y/N pecked his lips in response. “As long as I get my kisses at the end of it – without a second to spare.”

They spent the couple of hours waiting until the sun went down cleaning up around the house and then it was time to go.

As Astarion took a deep breath before closing the door, Y/N squeezed his hand. “We can turn back whenever you want to.”

But he seemed determined, only giving her a reassuring smile and twining their fingers together, her hand in his solid hold.

They walked slowly, enjoying the warm night gracing Baldur’s Gate, and soon enough they were through the city and past the woods, a small log cabin coming into view.

He stopped them a few feet away, taking in a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions.

Y/N glanced at him encouragingly. “Are you ready, Star?”

Astarion took in a deep breath, held it in for a moment and then exhaled, nodding. With this confirmation, she released his hand and ventured to the door, gently rapping her knuckles against it, immediately returning to stand beside her lover.

Instantly his palm was back into hers, as if he needed her to ground him, reassure him everything would be alright as nervous energy coursed through his veins while they waited for the inhabitants to come and see them. And though it was probably no more than ten seconds since she’d knocked, it felt like time had stood still. Once the doors opened, even nature quieted down.

The breeze shushed the tweeting birds and seemingly even the worms digging underground stopped their burrowing as finally, after two hundred years, the lost Ancunin son returned.

They stood like that for what seemed like ages, just taking one another in, before a small sob of Astarion’s name from his mother’s lips broke the spellbound silence.

It’s when he rushed for her, the elf already on her feet, meeting him halfway. Her arms wrapped tight around his body, hands smoothing down the back of his head as all the while she kept whispering “My Star, my little Star, you’re home.”

Y/N was on standby, ready to rip her away if Astarion became overwhelmed. She’d asked them to allow him to be the one to make the first step, and they had, but with such all-encompassing feelings, she just wanted him to be safe.

Though all that anxiety dissipated like ice under the blazing hear of the sun when Astarion practically melted against his mother, his fingers digging into her shoulders and back as if he never wished to be let go, both of them crumbling to their knees, still in each other’s embrace.

Tears welled along Y/N’s bottom lashes and when his father joined them, wrapping his arms around his family, they fell like rain on an autumn evening. She had to press a hand against her mouth to not sob out loud, but it didn’t seem like anyone would care, as Y/N noted Astarion’s shoulders shaking while his mother and father were freely crying, all the while touching and caressing his face, trying to ingrain the memory of having their son back in their arms.

She couldn’t imagine that feeling, didn’t ever want to, of finally being reunited with a family which you were so brutally ripped away from. Y/N almost wanted to resurrect Cazador, just so she could drive a stake through his heart again, but that might’ve been a bit too morbid of a thought in such a tender moment.

“You’re home.” His mother pulled back, cupping Astarion’s cheeks and smiling from ear to ear. “Our little Star is back home.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he choked out, but his father shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s enough for us.”

Y/N watched as he took in the people who’d searched for him relentlessly. He never knew they’d never given up. She wondered if there would be a time, he’d believe he was worth all it. She certainly hoped so.

“Thank you,” the elf with eyes like jade said, snapping her eyes towards Y/N. “You have no idea what kind of a gift you’ve bestowed upon us. We will never be able to repay you.”

She could only wave them off, a knot in her throat. “You owe me nothing. Seeing this – this is enough for me. I’ll – uh – I’ll leave you to it then.”

Just as she was about to turn around, Astarion jumped to his feet, untangling himself from the limbs of his parents, eyes full of concern. “What? Why? What’s wrong?” He was by her side in an instant, pulling her hand to rest against his chest.

“Nothing!” Y/N shook her head. “I just – I just think maybe I should take my leave. I can be back in a few hours if you’d like, but this just all seems like – like a private family reunion.”

Astarion scoffed, his free arm weaving around her waist, completely offended. “And what exactly do you think you are to me if not family, my love? Arguably, you might be the most important part of it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that -,”

“Hush now!” he scolded her. “You promised to be by my side through everything. Are you breaking that promise?”

“No, I just,” she stammered. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you to it? This just feels awfully personal.”

“My love, you are the keeper of my heart. You are my true home.” Astarion cupped her cheek, resting his brow against hers, chest against chest, not caring who might see. “Without you, none of this would have happened. I could still be on that beach with a mind flayer tadpole wriggling behind my eye.” He took her hand, and kissed her knuckles, sighing as they brushed against his jaw. “I don’t want to do this without you. I want to relearn who my parents are, and I want them to get to know me, but a non-negotiable part of that is you. That is if it’s alright with you?”

A tear slipped down her cheek, as she looked deep into those ruby eyes that once held nothing but fear and pain, only to now show love and compassion and happiness. When she smiled, her grin could have rivalled the sun itself. “I’d be honoured.”

When they glanced at the two elves by the threshold of the house, they noted the horrified looks on their faces. Astarion’s guard was immediately up, but his mother beat him to it.

“My Star, I am so sorry!” She put a hand over her mouth. “We swear we didn’t know you two were lovers! We just...” She glanced at her husband in desperation, but it seemed the little scene they’d put on had rendered him speechless. “Had we known, we would have never…”

Astarion squinted at her, a dangerous note appearing in his voice. “Never would have what?”

“Oh Gods, we had your partner kidnapped,” his father finally got out, eyes only widening in more shock as it settled that Y/N wasn’t just a travelling companion or a friend, but just what she really meant to Astarion.

“You did what?!” His head snapped to Y/N who now retreated to stand between the two shocked elves, and her quite furious boyfriend.

“Astarion, it’s alright,” she tried to calm him down. “They didn’t know! Besides, I heard them arguing with that mercenary. They didn’t hurt me. In fact, I,” she let out a nervous chuckle, “I held a knife to your mother’s throat. So, call it even and let’s move past it?”

His gaze was hot like the flames, as it burned into her. “We will discuss this later.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her before taking a deep breath and exhaling. “This is absolutely not how I ever imagined a family reunion to go, let alone the introduction of my partner.”

Y/N’s shoulders dropped as he broke the settled tension, but something in his eyes told her she’d pay for her omissions. And oh, how delicious that punishment would be.

His mother still seemed to be all nerves as she invited them inside, spouting apologies in Y/N’s direction, but when she took the elf's hand in hers and gave a comforting embrace, she relaxed a little. “Let’s let the bygones be bygones.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled, and wrinkles of age and time appeared around her eyes.

It was awkward at first, two centuries of hurt laying between them, two centuries of torture on Astarion’s end, of lost love and people, but slowly they opened up. And when his mother mentioned how he always used to bury his nose into strawberry fields, because it reminded him of his mother’s hair care products, it was like a damn had been opened.

The memories were still there, buried under layers of pain and horrors, but there. Maybe a little jumbled up and out of sorts, but with every hour spent together, locks were being broken and a light long lost lit up again.

Astarion had changed, but so had his parents. He let them know of his adventures, how he met Y/N and how she had turned his world upside down but abstained from the more gruesome parts. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but if he so wished, she knew his parents would be there to listen and welcome his vulnerably with open arms.

An hour before the sun resumed its place in the sky, Y/N nudged Astarion, telling him it was time to leave. She had little doubt in her mind, his parents had caught onto what he was, even if they hadn’t mentioned Cazador. If not for the shape of his elongated canines, or the colour of his eyes, which Y/N had found out had been a beautiful shade of pale green, then because of the brutal scars on his neck. But they still pulled him into a hug with such vigour, it was like they feared they’d never see him again, which was probably a thought always haunting their minds.

“Would – would you like to come over to ours?” Astarion asked, still holding onto his mother’s hands. “It’s a bit of a mess, our place, but if you come after the sun’s down, I’m sure we can have it proper enough to take on guests.”

It was an odd request, but thankfully, neither his mother nor father said anything about the specific time request, simply hugged him once more and promised to be by their door the second the sun dipped, wine and lemon cakes in hand.

As they waved their goodbyes, Astarion slipped his palm into Y/N’s and made sure they walked all the way back like that. Once behind a closed door, he pulled her into his chest relishing in the way their bodies melded together – two puzzle pieces finally connecting and forming the most magnificent picture to exist.

“What is it like to be finally home?” Y/N asked as he swayed them to a tune only, he heard.

Astarion shook his head, pulling slightly back so he could cup her jaw. “My love, I have been home for a long time now. I’ve been safe and cared for, all thanks to you.” His eyes were so full of love and adoration, she almost choked on a breath. “Now… now it just feels complete. So thank you… thank you for being my home,” he muttered that little confession against her skin, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Always, my love.” Y/N didn’t hide the tears rolling down her face and he brushed them away with a soft thumb. “Always.”

When their gazes locked, all she could see was excitement for what the new day had to offer, and she knew whatever was in store, as long as they were by one another’s side, there was nothing they couldn’t overcome.

But for all that, there was an important thing she was unaware of.

As Y/N entered their living room, talking to herself and making a list of what they had to do before his parents arrived, Astarion stood and watched her, leaning against the doorframe, all the while his hands rested in his pocket, where in one of them, a beautiful ring was being twirled between his fingers.

Before they’d left, his mother had slyly pulled it off her own hand, pressing it into his palm, and whispering to him while hugging that she didn’t want to see Y/N without it the next time around.

Astarion had no intention of living his life without Y/N as his fiancé for a second longer.

When she turned around to find him on one knee, he didn’t even get to ask the question before she responded with a shout of “Yes!” and jumped on him, pulling him into a kiss he swore breathed life into his still chest.

He couldn’t wait to reintroduce Y/N to his parents as his intended.

Now all was as it should be. He was finally home. And somewhere in the garden, a rose bloomed in full.

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: This idea was inspired by that one post of a painting Astarion's parents probably had of him, but had put away somewhere just so they didn't have to look a the son they lost, so I rectified it (Link to the inspo pic :) :( Now they have a portrait of Astarion and his love right above their fire place :)

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don't plagiarise or repost on other platforms.

[straylightdream]

across the room

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeon wonwoo x f!chubby reader

I caught your eye across the room. No one can feel the tension between me and you. There's no need to mention all the things I wanna do. You wanna do 'em too. We both know we'd be over if they knew

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, mutual pining, secret lovers, romance, angst, smut

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of body insecurities, cussing, mentions of drinking, angst, having to keep a “relationship” a secret, so much making out, open ending, wonwoo is kinda a former fuckboy.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dry humping, oral (both rec), handjob, fingering, protected intercourse, multiple positions, couch sex, cum eating, snowballing?

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

𝐚𝐧: wrote this a while ago and decided it was time to fully rework it.

🎧: hush hush - the band camino | talk fast - 5 seconds of summer

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

His hands held your face as your lips moved together. His lips were completely intoxicating as they moved against yours. There was something about this touch that just drove you absolutely wild. You’re sitting next to each other on your couch. Your fingers gripped his shirt holding him closer to you. He pulls his lips ways from yours and smirk plays across his lips. He well aware of how much he’s turning you on.

“What’s your endgame here?” You ask with your voice low.

“My goal is to have you naked on this couch,” he says completely serious.

“Is that right?” you ask raising your eyebrow.

You and Wonwoo had started this flirty thing a month ago. You’re complete opposites he’s a drop dead gorgeous man with the body of a Greek god you’re a chubby girl who hasn’t ever fooled around outside a relationship.

You felt like this is a game of cat and mouse and once he gets what he wants he’ll be done. This wasn’t the first time you had shared a steamy make out session. Normally things between you got a little handsy but nothing more.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours for a gentle kiss and pulled away resting his nose against yours.

“I think we’re wearing too much clothing,” his lips brushed against yours.

You were so turned on you were trying to think logically and not tear off your clothes and jump him.

“I think you need to behave,” you reached up resting your hand on his cheek.

“Baby you’re killing me,” he groaned, pulling away from you.

“I think you’ll live,” you smile as you rest your hand on his thigh.

“You’re giving me blue balls babe,” he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

“I think we can have fun without taking our clothes off,” You say as your hand moves to his jean covered bulge.

A groan passed his lips you massaged him. Leaning forward he placed his hands on your soft sides and pulled you onto his lap.

You hadn’t ever sat on his lap before and you felt extremely self conscious about your weight. Your hips starting grinding against his. His lips were connected to your neck gently nipping at your skin. He pulls his lips away from your skin and holds your doughy sides helping move your hips. Your hands held his face so he was looking at you. Pulling off his glasses they set them on the table next to the couch. His dark eyes lust blown as he stared at you. His lips pressed to yours and as he pulled away he gently bit your bottom lip.

“Even if we don’t have sex can we shed some clothes?” his voice is low.

“Sure,” you say with every intention of keeping your clothes on but making sure he feels good.

Crawling off his lap you sit on your knees on the floor between his legs and look up at him with big doe eyes. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he stares down at you.

“What do you want to happen from here?” he putting the ball in your court.

“Take your pants off,” you say, attempting to sound sexy.

He stands up in front of you and quickly pushes down his jeans and boxers. His already hard cock springs free, he’s bigger than you imagined. You had seen Wonwoo shirtless, but you hadn’t ever seen him fully naked.

His pants are pushed down to his thighs and he is sitting there watching you in anticipation. He silently removed his shirt so he’s basically naked.

Sitting up you’re still sitting on your knees. Your hands rest on his thighs. You were going to be brave right now. Wonwoo’s one of the hottest men you have ever seen and he wanted you. Right then you wanted to make him feel good. Reaching forward you stroked his hardened length. A groan passed his lips as he closed his eyes.

Leaning forward you licked the underside of his excitement. His eyes popped open as he watched you take him into your mouth.

You take him as far back as you fully can until he’s touching the back of your throat.“Baby that feels so good,” he pushed his fingers through hair. Gently you bobbed your head as your hand helped work his length.

A slur of curse words passed his lips letting you know he was getting closer and closer to coming. You hadn’t given someone head in a really long time and you were worried you wouldn’t be good at it, but by the way he was saying your name he seemed like he was really enjoying it.

“Fuck-fu-“ you’re getting wet just by the sounds of his moans. “I’m coming-“ You have zero desire to pull off. You want him to fall apart in your mouth. You feel the warm liquid from his release in your mouth and swallow without even thinking about it.

He tugs your hair gently pulling you away. Looking up at him you run your tongue across your bottom lip.

He pulls you onto his lap and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. He doesn’t even care that he can taste himself on your lips.

“That was so hot,” he groans with his lips ghosting against yours.

“I wanted to make you feel good,” you say, feeling proud of yourself.

“You made me feel amazing,” he smiles as his hands move up your sides resting under your breast.

“Let me make you feel good,” he says, pulling your shirt up.

“It’s okay, how about next time?” you say as you push your shirt down.

His eyes brows knit together as he looks at you with a confused look. “Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

You shake your head and say, “I want to have sex with you, but I want to take this slow.”

You were taking things slow because you were afraid that he was going to run once he got what he wanted. You also had a fear that once he saw you naked he wouldn’t want to be with you. He was known for liking pretty skinny girls.

“Okay we can take it slow, but can I at least touch these,” he asked as his eyes were locked in your large breast.

Silently you nod. Reaching forward, his hands hold your breast. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he looks at you with a lust fueled look. As his hands grope your chest you fight back moaning. You want more desperately but you’re too afraid. His hand moves to the edge of your shirt and your eyes pop open quickly. You’re terrified of him seeing you without your shirt. You watch as his hand crawls under your shirt. His hand rested on your breast under your shirt and his touch felt electric. Hungry eyes stay locked on yours as his hands massages your breast. His lips connected to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

The sound of your phone ringing caught both your attention. Wonwoo looked up at you with wide eyes for a moment.

You wanted to ignore the call, but Wonwoo reached over and grabbed your phone. It’s Seungcheol’s name on your phone.

“I can send it to voicemail,” you say, still caught up in the moment.

“Answer it, he’ll start asking questions if you don’t.”

-

This whole “thing” between you and Wonwoo was a secret. Nobody in your friend group is aware that you two have something going on. Before this all started Wonwoo had been extremely vocal about not wanting to hook up with anyone in the friend group. You weren’t even exactly sure how this all started. It still blows your mind that he’s interested in you. You’re far from his normal type, and the moment you met him you couldn’t lie you had a crush on him. In the beginning it started with longing looks on your part. You couldn’t help but stare. He's just so pretty. It wasn’t long before he started staring back at you. You were completely caught off guard the first time he walked over and talked to you. Shortly after the longing looks he started touching you. They were innocent touches, like he would touch your arm while he spoke to you. When he started resting his hand on your thigh that’s when things started heating up.

You were at a party at Seungcheol’s house when things started to really change between you. It had been a couple weeks of him touching you, and you were standing in the kitchen talking while everyone was drinking throughout the house. You’re leaning against the counter and Wonwoo is standing right in front of you. You’re telling him some random story about when you had to take care of a very drunk Soonyoung. He seems like he’s barely paying attention to what you’re saying. His pretty eyes seem to be locked on your lips.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you ask.

He shakes his head and lets out a nervous laugh. His little laugh always gave you butterflies.

“Should I leave you alone then?” you are curious as to why he isn’t paying attention to what you have to say.

Reaching up he pushes a piece of your hair behind your ear and you can’t help but smile at this simple gesture. He leans forward and his lips brush against your ear, “I can’t pay attention to you because I really want to kiss you.”

Your heart races at his words as you pull away from him and look up at him unsure if he’s being serious. He tilts his head to the side and gives you a smile. He is well aware of the effect he’s having on you.

“Why is that?”

“Because I can’t seem to think about anything other than what your pretty lips will feel like against mine,” he reaches out and touches your arms and you immediately get goose bumps.

“Then are you going to kiss me?”

He bites his bottom lip and pulls away from you. He takes his hat off and pushes his fingers through his hair. He seems oddly nervous which is extremely unlike him.

“I would like for that to be something private with us alone.”

You look around the house and see that it’s filled with all your friends, and you really didn’t want them in your business when it came to your “relationship/friendship” with Wonwoo.

“Well you can always meet me at my place later,” you say trying to be confident.

He smiled and nodded his head, “I’ll leave in ten minutes and then you leave in thirty minutes. I’ll meet you at your place.”

From your first kiss you knew you were in trouble when it came to Wonwoo.

-

You answer your phone and Seungcheol is asking if you can come over for a party he’s having. He mentions that Soonyoung and Mingyu are on their way and he’s gonna call Wonwoo next. You tell him you’ll be there in twenty. Hanging up your phone you slowly crawl off of Wonwoo, who is still basically naked on the couch.

He gives you a strange look as you reach on the coffee table and grab his phone that has just started ringing.

“He wants to hang, we probably shouldn’t show up together,” you trying to act like it doesn’t bug you that this whole thing is a secret.

Wonwoo takes the call and agrees to head over. He hangs up his phone and pulls his boxers and pants up and finishes getting dressed. You head off to your room to find something to wear. You were in nothing but a pair of leggings and a big shirt. Wonwoo stands in your doorway watching you as you pull out a sweater to wear.

“Did you want to head over together?” he asked.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” you ask knowing that the group will wonder why you drove over together.

“Probably not,” he says walking towards you.

“You should probably head over and I’ll meet you there,” you say as he stops in front of you. He looks down at and holds your face for a long moment before he leans down and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. Pulling away from you he smiles and says, “thank you for earlier. I need to return the favor.”

You stare at him unsure of what to say. Your body is screaming at you to tell him he can return the favor whenever, but your mind is too self conscious to say that.

“I’ll see you at Seungcheol’s,” you say, changing the subject.

“See you there,” he says before walking out of the apartment.

You hear your front door shut and you sit down on your bed and let out a heavy sigh before rubbing your face. You kept telling yourself that you needed to be confident when it comes to Wonwoo, that he clearly wants you, but you can’t help the walls that you have built up. You’ve had a few shitty ex boyfriends that have drained any self confidence you had.

Ten minutes after Wonwoo left your place you drove over to Seungcheol’s place. You’re greeted by Soonyoung and Mingyu hugging you, and Wonwoo gives you a simple hello as if he wasn’t naked on your couch not even a half hour ago. A bunch of the other boys have showed up. Vernon just arrived with his girlfriend and her roommate. In the living room everyone is sitting around drinking beer and hanging out. Standing in the kitchen with Soonyoung you can feel Wonwoo’s dark eyes on you. The tension between you is thick and you can’t help but wonder if the group has any clue if anything is going on.

Walking back into the living room you sit across from him.

You’re sitting on the couch when you feel your phone vibrate. Opening your phone you can’t help but smile as you read the text Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: I would much rather have you naked right now.

Your cheeks burn as you read his text. You shoot him a look and he just smiles at you, well aware of what he’s doing.

“Come here,” Seungcheol says to catch your attention.

The rest of the evening you continue to hang out with the group. Wonwoo leaves long before you, he has dinner plans with some friends. The moment he leaves you feel all the sexual tension in your body is relieved.

You head home when the little party starts to die down. You head to your place and lay down in bed and scroll through your phone. You smile as you see you have a text from Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: are you going to Soonyoung’s place tomorrow for the party?

From you: Yes I’ll be there.

It takes less than a minute before you receive another text from him that reads,

From Wonwoo: okay good. I think you should wear that pretty pink dress.

You know the exact dress he’s talking about. You wore it the night you shared your first kiss.

From you: Why should I wear that?

Another text quickly comes in that reads,

From Wonwoo: Because I’ll reward you with something that makes you feel good.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you read his text. You know exactly what he means and you have every single intention of wearing that dress. As you lay in bed you can’t wait to see Wonwoo tomorrow at the party. You know this is probably just a game of cat and mouse, but you think you’re finally ready to let something more really happen.

-

Loud music played throughout the house. Standing in Soonyoung’s backyard you watch your friends and lots of strangers were drinking and having a good time. Yuna standing next to you holding her drink she’s telling you about some dance audition she had earlier. Looking across the yard you find Wonwoo talking to Chan. Your eyes lock and he smiles at you. His dark eyes stay locked on you as he’s listening to Chan.

Yuna Notices right away that you aren’t fully paying attention and looks at you with a curious look. She asks you, “So who has your attention?”

You try your hardest not to panic as you look at her.You need to lie you can’t let her know you’re staring at Wonwoo.

“I was looking at Chan, he's over there talking with his hands and I was wondering what he was saying,” you lie.

“Oh,” she says, not bothering to ask you any more questions.

She walks inside to find Vernon and you make your way through the crowded house heading over towards the kitchen. You reach into the fridge and grab a bottle of water. You weren’t the type of person who really ever drank at these parties other than maybe one beer. Your friends tended to get a little crazy and sometimes needed someone to take care of them. Your whole life you had always been dubbed the mom friend, and from the moment you met Seungcheol and all your friends that didn’t change. You watch as Wonwoo and Chan are walking towards the kitchen.

“Hey (Y/N),” Wonwoo smiles.

“Hey boys,” you say looking over at Chan who is holding a beer.

“Where’s your drink?” Chan asks, noticing that you’re holding a bottle of water.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight, and someone is going to have to make sure Soonyoung gets put to bed safely,” you say with a little laugh.

“Let’s be real, someone needs to take care of all their drunk asses,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head.

“I thought you were sober and not drinking tonight?” Chan asks.

“I think all of you need more than one person to take care of you,” you let out a little laugh.

“True,” Chan said before taking a drink of his beer.

Chan heads over to Swungkwan leaving you alone with Wonwoo. It’s rare that you and Wonwoo ever get a moment alone at an event with your friends. That might be why people don’t actually think something is going on between you. Literally nobody even has the slightest idea something is happening.

You’re leaning against the counter as he’s watching you. The tension between you is thick and you wish you could kiss him, but you knew that wasn’t an option. You don't need everyone in the room to know what’s going on between you.

“I see you wore the pink dress,” he says as his eyes travel up and down your soft body.

Looking down at your feet you can’t help but blush,”I wore it just for you.”

He steps closer to you so there isn’t much distance between you. Looking around you look to see if anyone is paying attention.

“I think I said that I would reward you for wearing this,” He leans closer as he whispers loud enough for only you to hear.

“Is that promise?” you look into his dark eyes that already look lust blown.

He nods and steps away from you. A shiver runs down your spine as he smirks at you.

“I look forward to that later,” you walk away from him. You feel his eyes on you as you walk off towards the bathroom. You need a moment alone, he managed to leave you feeling extremely flustered without even trying.

Walking into the bathroom you shut the door and took a deep breath. The sound of someone knocking on the door catches your attention.

“One minute,” you say softly. Whatever drunk girl that needed to use the restroom could wait a minute.

“It’s Wonwoo, let me in,” you hear him say on the other side.

Reaching forward you unlock the door and step back. He steps inside and shuts the door and locks it. You know this is dangerous that someone could have seen him come into the bathroom with you.

Leaning against the bathroom counter as he walks towards you like a hunter stalking his prey. He grips your soft hips and helps you sit on the edge of the bathroom counter. He stands between your legs and his large hands rest on your soft thighs.

“I need to kiss you,” he says leaning forward so his lips brush against yours.

“Then kiss me,” you say feeling bold.

He leans into your lips and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips move together and you thank god that he joined you in the bathroom. You weren’t sure if you would ever get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Never in your life have you ever felt the sparks you felt when you kissed Wonwoo. Pulling his lips away from yours he gently tugged on your bottom lip and you couldn't help the soft moan that passed your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans with his lips ghosting yours.

“You’re beautiful too,” you say. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get out how pretty he is.

“As soon as this party is over I’m going to make you feel good,” he says as he rubs your thigh under your dress. He leaves you wanting more as he pulls his hand away from your skin.

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours for another kiss before stepping away. You watch as he leaves the bathroom and you stay in there for a couple minutes hoping people wouldn’t notice you’re in there together.

Walking out of the bathroom you look around hoping nobody noticed you leaving shortly after Wonwoo.

The house is filled with too many people you didn’t know and loud music. You wander around alone contemplating how long you had to stay before acceptably being able to leave. You look off into the kitchen to find Wonwoo talking to Chan once again. As he watches you walk by you can feel his eyes burning into you. You find Yuna and Mia sitting on the couch and you walk over and sit next to them. They’re talking about Mia and Seokmin’s wedding and you know this is the perfect topic to keep your mind off of Wonwoo.

An hour passes when you notice Wonwoo is no longer at the party. He’s always been the type of person who leaves a party without telling anyone. You thought this situation might be a little different though.

At midnight you take this as your opportunity to say your goodbyes to the group. You drive home and you can’t help but feel a little nervous about seeing Wonwoo.

-

Laying in your bed you can’t seem to fall asleep. You’re on edge waiting to hear from Wonwoo in some capacity.

At two in the morning you butterflies fill your stomach at a text from him.

From Wonwoo: Can you pick me up?

You know that he wants you to pick him but because if anyone drives by and sees his car at your apartment at two in the morning it will be obvious that something is going on.

From you: can be there in ten. Meet me outside.

You’re playing with fire and you’re well aware of that. Since this thing started between you and Wonwoo you hadn’t ever picked each other up in the middle of the night. You knew that this wasn’t just going to be you guys hanging out and making out. Wonwoo had promised to make you feel good, and you knew that consisted of you taking your clothes off.

The drive to Wonwoo’s apartment is short and you find him outside waiting for you. You pull up to the curb and he jumps in and leans over to press his lips to yours for a soft kiss.

As you start driving he reaches over and rests his hand on your thigh. His thumb gently brushes against your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

The short drive to your place seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity as you pull into your parking spot.

Slowly getting out of your car you shut the door and take a deep breath. You watch as Wonwoo walks towards the front door. You’ve never been happier that you live alone.

Opening the door you walk inside. Looking over at the clock near the door it reads 2:45am. You know that this isn’t going to be an innocent make out session. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at you with lust filled eyes.

Taking a deep breath you tell yourself that you are ready for this. That you’re brave, that you’re a confident woman who loves her own body and is ready for this.

“Why do I feel like you’re overthinking this?” He steps towards you.

“Because I totally am overthinking everything right now,” you nervously smooth your dress down.

He reaches up and rests his hand on your arm and his dark eyes lock on yours, “what are you thinking about?”

Silently you stare at him for a long moment. You know you need to be honest with him. “What happens after tonight?”

He pushes his hand through his hair and stares back at you before he says, “what do you mean?”

“What happens after I finally have sex with you? Are we over because the thrill of the chase is over?” you hated that what you were asking was so brutally honest but you needed to know.

“Do you really think that little of me?” he says as if he is pretty hurt by your question.

“I’m trying to be realistic here. I know damn well I’m not your type,” your building up a wall in an attempt to save yourself.

He takes your face in both his hands and says, “this isn’t some game to me. I want you, because I really like you. This isn’t just about trying to have sex with you.” Butterflies flutter around your stomach as he leaves you at complete loss of words.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Leaning forward he presses his lips to yours while he’s still holding your face. Your lips move together for a heated kiss. The room feels like it’s spinning as you get wrapped up in his touch. His hands slowly move from holding your face to resting on your neck. Pulling your lips away from him you take a slow breath as you stare at him with lust blown eyes. He licks his lips as a smile plays on his face. He steps back and pulls his shirt off. The sight of him standing shirtless in front of you makes your mouth water.

“God how are you even real,” you groan as you reach out dragging your hands down his abs that seem to be cut from marble.

“I workout a lot,” he says ever so casually.

“I’m well aware,” you shake your head and look up at him.

“I see you’re still wearing the dress,” his hand moved up so they’re playing with the edge of your sleeve.

You nod silently.

“Can we take this off?”

You want to say no, but you need to be brave. He’s made this very clear that this isn’t some game to him.

“Yeah.”

He steps behind you and slides the zipper slowly down the back of your dress. You feel the cool air against your skin. You close your eyes as he reaches up and moves the dress of your shoulders. You stand in a pool of fabric and the cool air against your skin is a reminder of how bare you are.

The feeling of his lips against your bare shoulder snaps you out of your thoughts. Instinctually you wrap your arms across your stomach. His lips move to the side of your neck kissing the right spot that he knows drives you wild. With his lips ghosting your skin he says, “you’re so pretty.”

Your eyes pop open when you feel his lips move away from your skin. He stands in front of you as his dark eyes travel up and down your soft body. You’re on full display, and you’re worried he isn’t going to like what he sees.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says as he works on unbuckling his belt.

You reach up and unclasp your bra, and work on taking it off as he takes off his pants, and his shoes.

You're both standing there in nothing but your underwear and your heart starts to race at what is going to come next. His lips are once again on your neck, but this time his hand hungry hands are roaming your curvy body. Biting your lips you hold back a moan as his lips move down to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches against him craving his touch.

“We need to get to my bed or the coach,” you moan.

He removes his lips from your skin and smiles. Reach down, he takes your hand and leads you over to the couch. You sit down on the scene of your earlier crime where you gave him head yesterday. You watch as Wonwoo quickly walks over to his jeans that are on the floor where you had just been standing. He pulls a condom out of his wallet and tosses it back into the puddle of clothing on the floor. He walks back over to the couch and sets the foil packets on the coffee table and looks over at you for a moment.

“Do you want to continue?” he asks. You silently nod. “Please tell me you want more,” he says.

“Wonwoo I want every single part of you.”

“Okay,” he says as he pushes his boxers down. He once again stands in front of you completely naked and you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get over the sight of him naked. You fully understand why all women and men that encounter him always talk about how hot he is.

You stand up taking this as your cue to lose your own underwear. Hooking your fingers into your panties you push them down your thick thighs.

“Sit down on the couch,” he says.

Silently you listen and sit down on the couch. He kneels in front of you and looks at you like he’s about to eat you alive, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on to no end. His hands rest on each of your knees and push them apart slowly. He reaches up and grabs your butt pulling you closer to the edge of the couch. He kisses his way up your inner thigh until his lips brush the top of your mound. Closing your eyes you fight back moaning as he licks your already wet slit. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he laps at your bundle of nerves. He adds one of his long fingers into the mix. It’s not long before he has you completely on the edge and moaning his name. Another finger is added as he sucks on your clit. This man is very good with his fingers and his mouth. Your eyes about roll back in your head as the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

Tangling your fingers in his dark hair you hold him close to your wet core. “Won-“ his name is a broken cry as you're so close to the edge you can taste it. “Please-“

Your orgasm feels like a white hot wave as you come against his mouth.

Coming down from your high you stare at him with lust filled eyes. He stands sporting a proud smile at his handy look.

“I promised you I would make you feel good.”

Reaching down he picks up the foil packet and tears it open with his teeth. Your breathing is still uneven as you watch him slide the rubber down his hardened length. Sitting his glasses down on the coffee table. He sits down on the couch next to you, and automatically connects his lips to yours for a searing kiss. His fingers tangle in your hair as he moves to pull you onto his lap. You’re hovering over his cock as your lips continue to move together. Pulling your lips away from his you bit your bottom lip as you rest your hand on his tone chest. His hand moves to your soft hips and stares into your eyes as he guides you down his straining cock. Closing your eyes you moan as he stretches you in the best way possible. He bottoms out leaving you sitting on his thighs. Silently you stare at him taking in the feeling of him stretching you. He feels as if he was made for you. Reach up, taking his face in your hands and say, “oh my god you feel amazing.”

“Baby you feel incredible,” he groans.

Slowly you start moving your body up and down his length. His hands stay resting on your sides helping to guide your movement.

Your lips crash together and you roll your hips into his. This felt just like you hoped it would. Your hand talon into his shoulders as you moan into his lips. With each movement he’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He’s so big he’s stretching in the most delicious way.

His lips move down your next leaving a trail of gentle nips and wet kisses. All the oxygen feels like it’s being sucked out of the room as the coil in your stomach is tightening. Your finger snakes down and rubs your sensitive clit. All the nerves in your body feel like they’re alive as you’re getting closer and closer to the edge.

His dark eyes are locked on yours as he reaches up, taking your face in his hands. You close your eyes you roll your hip faster. Your knees are starting to burn but you don’t even care. You desperately want to come. “Look at me,” he groans. Opening your eyes. You stare at him as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. He thrusts up to meet each of your movements. He’s hitting just the right place as he lifts his hips thrusting into you.

When he pushes you over the edge you see stars. Your whole body burns and everything feels so warm. Throwing your head back you moan his name riding out your high. You roll your hips trying to help him find his own release. He catches you off guard when he moves both of you so you’re flat on your back and he’s hovering over you. He pauses for a moment. Leaning down, crashing his lips into yours. Pulling away he slides into you again. He rolls his hips into you over and over as you high wash over you.

Reaching up you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him close to you. Your lips move together as his thrust grows sloppier. He groans your name as he finds his release.

He collapses on top of you and you can’t help but smile. He stays there for a long moment before he pulls himself of you. Slowly he walks off to the bathroom and discards the condom before walking back over and sitting on the couch next to you.

“Did you maybe want to lay in your bed together?” he asks, catching you off guard.

You nod your head and smile. You take his hand and lead him off to your room. Laying down in bed Wonwoo lays close to you and pulls your soft body close to his. It’s not long before you fall asleep in his arms. You aren’t sure what any of this means but you hope maybe one day you and Wonwoo can have something more than secret little moments together.

If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and or tags that would be greatly appreciated.