#i drew myself a cold bath

[nickeldean]

luv overheating in the night like disturb my sleep, body, i fucking dare you

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Darling, Mind if I Enjoy Myself?

Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader || ao3 || Masterlist Rating: E Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Astarion walks in on you pleasuring yourself and takes it upon himself to be of utmost assistance to your endeavours. CW: 18+. Smut with fluff. Teasing. Masturbation. Vaginal fingering. Vaginal sex.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I, darling?”

As a matter of fact—he was, and Astarion knew that very well. He also knew that your pathetic little gasp wasn’t a sign of chased-after relief but surprise. So much surprise, in fact, that your hand had startled into a highly frustrating stillness between your legs; you’d been so close…

All thanks to Astarion’s masterfully quiet feet, you hadn’t heard him re-enter the chamber and his untimely intrusion had your body torn between wanting to freeze and jump out of your skin—and that, too, the bastard knew. The unveiled amusement dripping from his words clearly gave him away.

Embarrassed at the heat rising in your cheeks, you squeezed your eyes shut, at once thankful that you wouldn’t have to see the stupid smirk on his face as he sauntered over to your bed.

“Had you waited half an hour for me to finish my bath, I would’ve been more than happy to assist in your delightful endeavours, my sweet.”

Another matter of fact was that Astarion’s bathing routine did not take half an hour. You hadn’t at all expected to see him again until just before dawn.

Suppressing a scoff, you licked the overripe curse from your lips before replacing it with a lazy smile. You had to play this smart, otherwise Astarion would never let you live this down.

“Enjoying yourself, Astarion?” You purred, slowly opening your eyes in what you hoped was a casual if not playful manner.

His pale face was now close enough for you to touch. He crouched next to the bed, head supported on one hand while he grinned at you. 

“Darling, with you? Always!” 

Astarion’s hair was still wet, you noticed. Wayward drops of water glistered in the pale moonlight, making him look as if he’d been kissed by morning dew. A single water drop caught your attention by running from his temple down his cheekbone before it gathered in the valley of his sensuous cupid’s bow. All you had to do was lean forward and kiss it away, but—

You followed Astarion’s sharp gaze to where your hand vanished under the hem of your nightdress. 

Your fingers still rested heavily against the damp heat of your inner thigh, aching to finish what they’d started in the pleasure of your own company.  

Your smile turned into a grin of your own. Two could play this game.

“Like what you see?” 

“Plenty,” Astarion confirmed without a moment’s hesitation, inching closer to rest his chin atop his hands on the mattress. “You don’t mind me watching, do you?”

Crimson eyes peered up at you through ridiculously long lashes—just like they were wont to do when Astarion put his mouth to very good use on you. By the way his grin widened knowingly, you understood that this particular look was by far no accident.

You cocked your head as if to ponder his question, even though you were already back to stroking your fingers over your slick folds. 

Whatever the damn elf was doing, it surely was working—but he didn't need to know that, yet. 

“Why, only if you don’t mind me thinking of you…?”

Astarion’s movement was too swift for you to follow. 

He’d given a short laugh in one second and the next he was towering over you. The mattress shifted under his weight; a single water drop detached itself from the tip of one of his locks, falling right onto your half-exposed collarbone. In one swift motion, Astarion dove after it. 

Agonisingly slow, his cold tongue gathered up the liquid, leaving a wet kiss in its place before he drew back again. 

His bold attack was over the moment it had begun. 

“I would feel rather insulted if you didn't, pet,” Astarion drawled, slowly settling down next to you.  

His grin had turned impish as he laid on his side, lazily propped up on one elbow as he watched you try and fail to regain your composure. 

You let out a shaky breath, which only earned you another laugh. 

“Oh, go on, now, dear—I see you’re growing…impatient.”

And go on you did.

Astarion’s way of assisting you in your delightful endeavours could range from fucking you senseless to watching you cum on your own fingers and if he wanted a show today, he could have one. You had no idea where tonight might lead, but you were hells-bent on getting your release one way or the other.

You held Astarion’s gaze as you dipped a finger back into the feverish wetness spreading between your legs, another following suit right after. 

A content sigh slipped past your lips as your fingers circled your swollen clit—which Astarion graced readily by draping your leg across his hip. 

Your breath hitched again as the sudden change of position opened up more room for your endeavour, but it was his cold touch upon you that really stroked the fire underneath your skin.

Astarion’s lithe fingers traced along your ankle, your calf, your knee, hiking up your nightdress until it pooled around your waist—laying your desire bare to him. 

You bit your lip in an effort to keep your eyes from fluttering shut. 

“Enjoying yourself, sweet thing?”

Astarion pulled you closer, knowing very well the impact he had on you—he had a front-row seat, after all. 

“With you? Always,” you panted, your movement growing increasingly erratic as your need soared under his teasing touch. 

You couldn’t quite tell if you were more aroused by your own hand dragging you towards release or by Astarion’s thumbs drawing lazy circles across your skin—so at odds with the urgent pace in which you pleasured yourself.  

You had your answer when his hand fanned out on the back of your thigh, only to inch up further to firmly squeeze your ass.

He let out yet another short laugh at the impetuous moan he elicited from you, though this time it was huskier, more reflex than amusement and he leaned over, his breath tickling your ear. 

“You know,” Astarion whispered as if he were about to reveal a grand secret to you. “I've been thinking about that divine ass of yours all day long.” 

Taking in a sharp breath, you wondered if he realised that his fingertips dug almost painfully deep into your flesh, pinning you in place while your hips tried to chase your hand.

“Only good things, I wager?” 

“The very best,” Astarion breathed against the soft spot between your ear and jaw before his lips travelled across your cheek, only stopping when the tip of his nose grazed yours. 

If he were to kiss you now, you wouldn’t last much longer.

But his lips didn’t meet yours. His eyes were far too busy darting to and fro between your flushed face and dripping wet cunt. 

A slight frown settled between Astarion’s eyes—giving away that he was still considering how much of an assistance he wanted to be tonight. 

There was no denying that you wanted Astarion buried deep inside you, to have him ease that insatiable, torturous desire only he could ignite in you. 

But more than that you wanted—needed—him to want it, too.

Giving him time to sort out what he wanted tonight, your hand slowed into a gentler pace, but this only seemed to fully entrance Astarion. 

The grin long gone, he wet his lips, his eyes darkening. You knew that look all too well; he’d beheld you the same way mere hours ago, right before he’d sunken his fangs into your neck. Want. Hunger. Need. 

Lust. 

It only took another moment for Astarion’s lips to finally brush against yours.

“Mind if I join?” He rasped. His hand wandered down your thigh, grabbing the back of your knee to pull you flush against him. 

Through his loose pants, you could feel his hardening cock rub against your inner thigh as he re-adjusted your leg over his hip, riding up his shirt in the process. 

You urged your leg even higher, hooking it around his waist, moaning at the sweet sensation of his cold skin pressed against your burning flesh.

“Please do,” you almost begged. Couldn’t he see how badly you needed him?

But your consent had barely left your lips that Astarion’s hand slid between your legs, his fingers interlacing with your own. He took up your earlier pace caressing your clit, sending shivers down your spine as he guided two of your joined fingers inside you—stroking that delicious spot that always made you see stars.

Tilting your head back, you let out a blissful little cry which Astarion rewarded with a groan of his own as he traced lingering kisses down your throat. 

You arched your back shamelessly against Astarion’s half-exposed chest, getting rapidly close to your climax. As your hand grew useless from pleasure, animated only by the invisible strings Astarion pulled, all you could do was chase your relief. It would only take a few more strokes of Astarion’s finger, another sweet kiss tickling your skin to send you over the edge and—

You could barely suppress the indignant sound of protest rising in your throat when both hands between your legs came to an abrupt halt. 

“Fuck,” Astarion grunted into the crook of your neck before he suddenly withdrew from you, pulling your own hand along—leaving you empty and trembling with scorching need. 

You wanted to cry.

For a frustratingly long moment, you thought Astarion had changed his mind about your endeavours; that he would retreat to his mischievous voyeurism and leave you to your own devices once more. 

But instead of untangling himself from you, he pushed you onto your back, nesting his hips right between your shaking legs.

His arm came down next to your head and from the corner of your eye, you could see his pale hand glister with your arousal. 

Half-dried, dishevelled locks were plastered to his forehead as Astarion looked down at you, pupils blown with lust—no doubt a mirror of your own. 

“Properly,” he said, his free hand tugging at your nightdress. “Let me fuck you properly. You don’t mind, do you?”

If you weren’t half delirious with pent-up need you might’ve laughed at him. 

“Do whatever you want with me, Astarion,” you pressed through clenched teeth, eagerly helping him work the offending garment over your head. “Enjoy yourself.”

Astarion welcomed your breast with his mouth. By the way his tongue circled your oversensitive nipple, it rather seemed like your ass hadn’t been the only thing on his mind. 

You arched into his kiss, hissing when his fangs grazed your tender flesh. 

His shoulders trembled with a silent laugh before he abandoned your breast in favour of your collarbone and neck, your jaw and finally, again, your lips.

You raked your fingers through Astarion’s locks that were made soft and fragrant by the soap and oils he’d used earlier; pulling him closer, you deepened your kiss. Couldn’t he taste how starved you were for him? 

You were desperate when you hooked your other leg around Astarion’s waist, tugging and sucking at his bottom lip. All you could feel was his still outrageously clothed erection rubbing against your stomach, driving you insane—that, and the cursed bastard smirk melting against your mouth. 

Astarion was enjoying himself all right. 

You bit down on his lip.

It only took a second before you could taste iron on your tongue. Astarion pulled away slowly, still smirking as he licked a blossoming bead of blood off his lips. The sight of him was so heady, so obscene, that your mouth hung agape. 

“You vicious, impatient little thing, you,” he chuckled, cupping your hand clawing at his hair, slowly guiding it to his shoulders, his chest, down to the lacing of his trousers. This time, you bit back a moan. 

“But you’ve been so good, always letting me have all this fun when I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He let out a low hum when he dragged your palm over his taut crotch, undoing the front lacing with the help of your greedy little fingers. 

“But you’ve waited enough, now, haven’t you?” 

Yes! You nodded fervently, his lust-strained voice music to your ears. Yes, you had! 

Astarion let go of your hand to free himself of his trousers, urged on by the way you helped shove them down his thighs. Tears burned in your eyes when you finally caught a glimpse of his beautiful, erect cock. 

For all his teasing, Astarion didn’t waste any time now. 

Grabbing your hip, he aligned you with him, only to tease your throbbing clit with the wet tip of his cock. 

“Astarion…” you whined, arching harder against him—and he was nothing if not a merciful lover. This once, at least.  

By the time he slowly buried himself inside you inch by inch, you no longer cared for whatever noises escaped your mouth. 

For a deliciously long moment, you simply savoured the sensation of your walls stretching around him; Astarion’s hand kneading your hip, his lips back on yours, moaning sweetly into your mouth. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging at the collar of his shirt to feel your breasts squeeze up against his hard chest. Every inch between your bodies was too much to bear.

Astarion’s long eyelashes fluttered against your cheek as he began to roll his hips against yours.  

He set a slow, if not lazy pace—which was unexpected considering all his teasing, but not at all unwelcome. 

You met his rhythmic thrusts, smiling when he pressed his forehead to yours. It was something he’d only taken up after he’d become more comfortable having sex with you, and the gesture elated you every time. 

“Enjoying yourself, my heart?” You breathed in the rare moment your lips parted from his. 

There was no witty or snide remark rolling off Astarion’s tongue, now. Instead, he could only grunt in reply, his eyebrows knitted in concentration—evidence that it took him everything to focus on his self-imposed arduous pace.

Knowing that it was you who did this to him—that it was your body that had him speechless every time he fucked you—had you clench violently around his cock. 

Groaning, Astarion brought his hand back down to your leg. He blindly untangled it from around his waist before pinning it against the mattress with his knee—opening you up even more for him. 

Clearly unable to restrain himself any longer, his pace sped up. 

With new vigour, Astarion pounded into you, hitting that perfect sweet, sweet spot over and over again; eliciting a whimper from you with every frantic thrust of his hips.

You knew he was close to his release when you felt his cock twitch in anticipation, spurring on your own ecstasy. 

You eventually found yourself dissolving into your own pleasure as Astarion spent himself deep inside you.

Unwilling to miss a second of his undoing, though, you watched him squeeze his eyes shut, deepening his frown as his pace became gentler, but not less effective. The sight of his parted lips, the paper-thin skin of his eyelids made pink by your blood circulating underneath his skin—it was nearly enough to push you over the edge. 

Nearly.

You bucked your hips against him, desperate for more friction, more of him. Once again, you wrapped your leg around his waist, pulling him deeper into you; you could never be close enough to him—never have enough of him. 

As if reading your mind, Astarion’s lips found yours once more. He wound his hand between your bodies, cupping your breast, caressing your lower stomach before he slid his hand down between your legs to mingle with his cock.

Knowing you would never tire of this—of him—you let yourself fall, and Astarion’s perfect nimble fingers assisted you graciously through your climax before he collapsed on top of you.

Together, you waited out the aftershock of your orgasm, his cock slowly softening inside you.

“Darling, I take you enjoyed this… admittedly mediocre performance?” 

Astarion’s voice was still raspy with pleasure and faint traces of unwarranted insecurity. 

You gave him a short laugh. “Mediocre?” 

Astarion only shrugged before he wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you to him. 

“I’m enjoying whatever you’re willing to give me, Astarion,” you reminded him, pressing your lips to his forehead. “Always.”  

Astarion’s telltale smirk tugged at his lips as he rested his head in the valley of your breasts. “Very good, my sweet, because I want to thoroughly enjoy myself with you again. And again. And again…” 

You chuckled. “Very good, because I would not mind that at all.”

[crazy4nika]

fine

warnings - fingering, tit sucking, soft paige?, swearing.

not proofread sorry

paige bueckers x reader

My back pressed against the wall while me made out. our lips moved together as her hands traveled around my waist, tugging at my sweatshirt.

our mouths disconnected for a second as she pulled the clothing over my head. my breath hitched at the sudden cold air. “you okay?”

“yeah.” she pressed singular kiss to my lips before grabbing my hand and pulling me over to the bed. paige straddled over my hips as she unclasped my bra, pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor.

she pressed a kiss to my collarbone before traveling down to my left tit, taking it in her mouth. i moaned as she swirled my nipple around in her mouth. her hands fiddled with the string of my sweatpants. frustration grew over her face before she gave up. she pulled away from my boob to talk, “fuck! did you double knot these?”

“here, paige. let me see.” the blonde girl got off of me, holding her head in her hands. i pulled the string and the knot came undone, “well… problem solved.”

paige smiled and pulled the pants off of me, leaving me in just a pair of white lacy thongs. her finger hooked of the edge of them and pulled them off too. “god, your so wet already. I havent even touched you yet,” she mumbled out. I moved further up the bed and lied my head on a pillow. she pulled my legs apart, “wont even need to warmup, huh?”

her fully clothed body pressed against my naked one as she pressed our lips back together. a light whine escaped my lips as the fabric from her pants brushed over my clit. paige swept a strand of hair out of my face. her lips touched mine lightly as she spoke, “gonna take my fingers now, alright?”

i mumbled in agreement, a smile growing softly over my face. her lips pressed light kisses down my neck while her hands traced their way back down my body. she squeezed my hip lightly before moving to my inner thigh. her hand hovered over my clit, “p. stop being a tease.”

She giggled against my neck, “im not.” her words drug out in an almost adorable way. “yes you ar- fuck!”

paige pushed her finger into my pussy, instantly curling them into my g-spot.

“Im sorry, what were you saying?” her teeth dragged over the skin of my neck as she talked.

“nothing, baby,” i whined out, the words spewing out with moans. Her lips left my neck and trailed down my body, so she was sat between my open legs.

“i- fuck, p.” my hands twisted through her blonde hair. moans rolled off my tough as she pressed her lips against my clit, leaving a singular kiss. my hips lifted lightly off the bed against her hand, wanting more pressure.

“there you go… good.” paige sped her finger up, thrusting in with more aggression. “dont- baby. dont stop please. fuck paige.”

paige pressed my leg down with her free hand, “keep em open for me, kay?” i just moaned in response, unable to make words. my hand left her blonde locks and grabbed her hand instead, interlocking our fingers.

“shit, p. im- fuck!” i yelped out, my wall tightening against her fingers as they curled into me. “your good. there you go.”

she pulled her finger out of me and pressed a light kiss to my inner thigh. she leant over me and pressed her finger into my mouth.

my tongue swirled around them, tasting myself. “good girl. im going to run a bath for you.”

i smiled at her while she left the room, heading towards the bathroom. i curled onto my side, into fetal position.

before i knew it, i was drifting off to the sound of running water.

the girl shook me lightly to wake me up, “hey, baths ready.”

“kay,” i grabbed her hand for help getting up, interlocking our fingers. her other arm trailed around my waist while she led me down the hallway.

paige opened the door to the bathroom. she tied my hair into a bun on the top of my head and helped me into the tub, pressing a kiss to my lips.

she pulled away with a smile. i held her face in my hands and drew her in again. our lips moved in unison, only this time she was kneeling on the bathroom floor. she moved away from me, brushing my flyaways out of my face. “hey, no. as much as i want to, i need you to relax for a bit.”

i frowned at her words, pouting my face. “fine.”

[koiiiiijiii]

since nobody asked anything in comment section in THIS post i decided to came up with something by myself. now i know you little rogues not reading author notes🤨

Nightly Rituals

LOOKISM & WINDBREAKER BOYS WHILE YOU DOING YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE BEFORE BED

Gun

Park Jung Gun likes your presence in his apartments, it’s always little bit more warmer and cozy with you. Especially he likes time before bed, and both of you small routines. well, he could call his routine small - just stealing some incomprehensible bottles from you, he doesn’t bother his head to read it, as long as it seems to smooth his skin he use it! also, maybe reading some book or answering to forgotten messages while he waiting for you from the shower - that’s his usual routine before bed.

he could hear the water in shower stop flowing, you wrapped yourself in a towel and slipped out of the bathroom. picking and putting on your pajama the inescapable process has been started. Jung Gun learned your skincare routine perfectly - you always start with your face adding toner, letting it dry while you adding extra products on your hair, then you using millions of bottles - moisturizers, essence, serums, creams on your face, then switching to your body, and finally drying your hair and final step - adding that tasty smelling oil on your hair and boom! you are ready for… bed… “Hun, admit it honestly, you really enjoy all this stuff and not getting tired every time?” he said, getting comfortable and pulling you towards him “It’s one of the ways of meditation you know, Gun?” you murmur softly into his chest

Ma Taesoo

Taesoo enjoys 100% of time when you staying in his apartments. he honestly asked you few times to move in with him, but you politely rejected this idea (i headcanon that Taesoo live in stereotypical bachelor designed apartment… imagine bathroom with no place to put all your bottles? and rooms with cold/neutral lights? brrr, my horror honestly)

and here he are - sprawled out in bed, with his hands behind his head and leaning on the headboard, watching you. in turn, you occupied the table in his room, laying out your makeup bag, hair dryer and some other little things there, and now you were fussily rushing from the bedroom to the bathroom to wash your hands, looking in the mirror with this terrible cold-white lighting in the bathroom. Taesoo chuckled softly, when he saw how you add another cream on your body - specifically on your thighs, saying with his husky voice “Chill woman, enough marinating yourself in all that jojoba creams, im not gonna eat you alive, while you sleep” he grinned at you and pulled you into your shared bed. “Maybe not gonna eat, but you know sweet” he said hugging you from behind, burrowing his nose into your neck “You smell so good and nice that i might change my mind.”

Vinny

it was nice to came to Vinny in apartments that Juwon give to him, honestly better than his previous home. the soft glow of bedside lamps cast a warm ambience across the room, painting shadows that danced along the walls. Vinny lounged in bed, his attention divided between a phone in his hands and the anticipation of your return. you finally took your time after preparing for final exams, allowing yourself to indulge in the luxury of self-care, a small act of kindness to soothe both body and soul. you slowly going through your skincare routine, gently massaging essence into your cheeks and admiring yourself in mirror.

Vinny shifted against the pillows, his gaze drifting to the doorway as he eagerly awaited your return. the soft shuffle of footsteps drew his attention, and his heart skipped a beat as you appeared in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and city lights outside the window. as you settled beside him, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle against your skin. "Hey," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "I've missed you." you leaned into his touch, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you. "I missed you too," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. in that moment, as you curled up together beneath the covers, everything seems right in the world, every problem just disappeared.

Wooin

he always like to violate and invade your personal space. not that you were against it, like now, when he flatly refused to wait for you in bed while you completed your six-step skincare routine and chose to join you. he insisted that he wanted that black mask be put on his skin, while you muttered that he should clean his skin first and then add serum and only after put that mask on. "Babe, why so many unnecessary steps, you know that this mask won't make big changes anyway, right?" he whine like a child who tired of shopping for groceries, when he only agreed to came because his mum promised to buy him some chips. "Because it's the whole thing about skincare, hun!!! You doing it not because of effect, but for the process!! Trust the process you know??!" you said turning to him with annoyed face and that funny crab hair band that Wooin bought for you last time he went to shopping center. he said it looked cool and reminded him of you when you blushing.

after the last five minutes of him hovering around you like an annoying fly, whining about how he wanted a mask too, you finally gave up. going to the refrigerator and deftly pulling out a black bubble mask, you went into the room. and Wooin looked out of the bathroom in bewilderment - where did you go if he was in the other room? as you returning to bathroom, you made him sit on the side of the tub and pulled the same hairband over his head, only green in the shape of a toad, “They didn’t have anything with snakes, so i thought another amphibian would be a good idea too.” you said pulling his hair up and putting that most wanted black bubble mask on his face.

༘⋆🌷🫧💭 ⋆˙

⊹ xo - xo ⊹

[chlorinecake]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝟐 — a yang jungwon fanfic

Previously ⊱✿⊰

𖤣 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after sharing with Jungwon your true feelings about the way he treats you during a fight, unexpected changes take place as you learn more about him

𖥧 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: abduction themes, swearing, violence, crying, nudity, attempted assault, slow burn, moody, not proofread ~

𖡼 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k ~ The next part...

✎ note: In no way does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. I write purely for entertainment and creative purposes. Reader discretion is advised. 

You sat in the bath completely naked before Jungwon. He was still dressed in his work clothes as he hovered over the edge of the tub, lathering an orange scented soap all over your grimy skin.

Jungwon had forgotten you outside in the garden after assaulting you on the picnic mat that day. It wasn’t until a whole 48 hours had passed before he finally came back, only to find a cold and hungry you balled up under a bush. The trembling in your stomach remains as if it was yesterday, even though by now, the incident was more than three days ago.

You didn’t expect Jungwon to apologize for leaving you in the wilderness all that time, as part of you believed it was some sort of punishment for rejecting him. Though, if you were crazy enough, or maybe even smart enough, you probably would’ve tried running away when you had the chance—

“How’s the water,” Jungwon asked softly, using a comb to pick with the remnants of wildlife that decorated your hair, leafy bits falling into the warm rose petal bath.

“It’s lovely, Won-ah,” you replied with a blank expression, “I really don’t mind cleaning myself, though.”

“I insist, love. It’s the least I could do after letting you get so dirty in the first place.”

Oh, so that’s what he’s calling it now.

You watched as a cluster of bubbles swam on the surface of the bath water, reminding you of lily pads before they crashed into your legs, melting at your skin. Jungwon mirrored the bubbles in a lot of ways. At first glance, he seemed bright and friendly, bumping along pink waves that only drew him closer and closer to you. Though, once you finally collided, it’s like he couldn’t help but to absorb the contact.

Devouring you.

“I can tell there’s something on your mind, ____,” he interrupted your daydreaming, using a wash towel to rinse the muggy suds from your hair. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Pop.

The bubbles faded away as if knowing what was about to come.

“I-I don’t… it’s just,” you felt your breath grow unsteady as you struggled to answer him, let alone honestly.

The truth was, you hadn’t gotten much rest over the past few nights as you couldn’t shake the thoughts of what he almost did to you in the garden. You also didn’t want to provoke Jungwon by telling him what was truly on your mind.

Though, like a true predator, he sensed the fear in your silence.

“Why’re so scared of me,” he half-chuckled, putting the towel down before sitting on his knees. “It’s like you think I’m waiting to pounce on you or something.”

“Jungwon—”

“Look. Unless you plan to be honest with me, I’d rather you just keep quiet again.”

“Jungwon—”

“I’m listening, love,” he said, looking into your eyes with an intense gaze.

You were frustrated with his lack of patience yet also by your own hesitance to his curiosity, strangely making you feel guilty. You sunk deeper into the water, folding your arms over your bare chest as an attempt to make yourself feel more comfortable in your nakedness.

You sighed, “I haven’t gotten much sleep over the past few nights.”

He blinked, “____, if this is about the lamp, I’ll put it back in your room—”

“No, Jungwon.”

“When we first met, you told me that you were afraid of the dark. I’m so sorry for overlooking that, love—”

“Won, I didn’t finish what I was gonna say—”

“Do you want me to start sleeping next to you? I really don’t mind! You don’t have to be embarrassed about it either! I’d leap at any chance to get closer to you.”

Jungwon rested a hand on your shoulder which caused you to flinch away from him, clinging to the farther end of the tub. A bit of water splashed from your movements, wetting his clothes and the floor. He scoffed at your behavior, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Do you have any idea how it makes me feel when you jump at my mere touch? Like I’m some fucking monster?”

You stared back at him, chest heaving in regret.

He waited a few moments before getting up abruptly, leaning over the tub and pulling your soaking wet body out.

“Jungwo—” your words were cut short as he forcefully pinned you to the cold ground, your wet hair sprawled all over your frightened features. He ignored the puddles of water that you left on the floor, maintaining his grip on you by caging you between his legs.

Flashbacks resurfaced in the back of your mind. Or maybe this was all just a terrible sense of déjà vu. You wrestled beneath him, knowing good and well that your strength stood feeble against his. Still, it felt better to retaliate than to give in.

“Let go of me, Jungwon,” you fought, earning yourself a slap to the face.

“I’m only gonna give you few seconds to calm me down before I fuck the shit out of you on this bathroom floor.”

You winced at his words at if they cut you physically, still holding in the tears that wanted to spill from the slap.

You tried swallowing the fear that meddled at your core, knowing that when to it came to Jungwon, choosing silence was synonymous with suicide. Suddenly, your fright was replaced with a familiar rage.

“How am I supposed to tell you anything when you’re always seconds away from snapping on me?!” Your voice cracked.

He blinked at your words, “What did you just say?”

“I can’t sleep at night because of you, Jungwon! Why would I be afraid of the dark when what’s hiding in it is way fucking worse,” you swore, not being able to maintain the polite tone you usually spoke with.

He leaned back from your body, confused eyes wondering all over before something clicked in his mind: “You can’t force me to love you. Not like this.”

Immediately, he reached for the large towel that hung over the bathroom sink, draping the material over your shoulders as an attempt to cover you.

The bathroom by now was a dripping mess that he’d have to take care of later, but for now, his focus was on you.

He forced you to sit up, meeting him eye to eye on the damp tiles. He thought about the way you flinched at his touch. The way you tried covering yourself when facing him. The way your lip quivered before you could push out any words.

I am a monster, he thought to himself.

Tears grew in his eyes that mirrored your own red ones. His previously hostile hands rested sweetly in his lap, cautious not to touch you again. His shoulders rose and fell as he tried to calm his sobs, while all you did was sit uncomfortably and watch.

“Unless you plan on apologizing, I’d rather you quit your crying already,” you spat resentfully.

He looked at you with a frown, “Don’t talk to me like that.”

You shook your head at him, “And why not? Huh? Why not, Jungwon? When you can call me anything from your lover to a bitch and still expect me to believe it’s a matter of kindness!”

“____—”

“When every moment we share has to feel like I’m walking on the very egg shells of your erratic emotions!”

“I have to be this way for us—”

“When you threaten to rape me and get upset once I’m disgusted by you—”

Jungwon knocked over the bottles of shampoo that sat on his bathroom shelf, wailing at your words like a baby. Your body tensed at the chaos, ears ringing from the sudden noise. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ____,” he whined in between his frustration, “I am so… fucking… sorry.”

He didn’t bother wiping the tears that fell from his face, as they were gonna keep coming anyways.

“Sorry’s not good enough, Jungwon,” you sniffled, face still burning with emotion.

“Then I promise I’ll never hurt you in that way again. I swear to God, ____, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he pleaded, his nose and cheeks turning a soft shade of red.

He met you on the ground again, fingers fidgeting as if desperate to touch you again.

“Please say something, love.”

You sighed, “What is there to say, Wonnie?”

He sniffled at your words, hanging his head low with shame, “Fuck, ____, can you let me hug you at least? Can you hold me?”

You froze at his request. It was odd hearing Jungwon of all people ask for your consent, seeking comfort from the very person he constantly took it away from. He looked as if he would crumble if you told him no, so you gave in with a nod, allowing him to fall into your arms.

You ran a hand over his back as you tried soothing his nerves, feeling his hands desperately cling to your naked body as if he were the victim here. It never failed to shock you how his emotions could switch up, going from soft, sinister, to sullen in just a few seconds.

Cradling him granted you a satisfying sense of dominance, finally making him feel shame for the way he treated you, even though it’d only last for the moment.

“You can stop crying now, Jungwon. I’ve already forgiven you.”

That night, you and Jungwon slept in the same bed together, which was a first for the both of you, yet thankfully not as awkward as you thought it’d be. When you woke up, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, holding a steaming cup.

“What’s that?” You asked as the scent of foreign herbs hit your nose.

“I didn’t mean to leave you, but this tea couldn’t wait. It’s a mix of medicinal plants from my garden. It should help you sleep better,” he smiled, scooting closer to you on the bed.

“Drink up!”

“B-but it’s still morning, I can just drink it tonight.”

“It’s not fast acting, ____. You’ll need to drink it a few hours ahead of time in order for it to work,” he said, bringing the porcelain cup to your lips for you to sip.

“There are a few things I need to teach you so you won’t need me as much when I’m away. Besides, I could really use your help around the garden. How’s that sound?” You swallowed, “Don’t you have work today?”

“I got off early, love. I’ll be back with a change of clothes for you and we’ll meet outside,” he smiled again, biting back the urge to kiss you before walking out of the room.

After taking care of your hygiene, you got dressed in the oversized flannel and joggers he gave you, meeting Jungwon outside in the sunny field.

“It’s not morning anymore, is it?” You asked shyly, earning a fit of giggles from him.

“Yeah, no. I was honestly surprised when I came back and you were still sleeping.”

You took in the scenery of green grass and daunting forest frees before he placed a hand at the small of your back, guiding you a few feet further in the pasture. “D'you see that,” he pointed at the sky, sun rays glistening against his honey brown eyes that were still slightly swollen from the night before. “It’s around 6pm. Whenever the sun falls in between the top of that hill and the tallest tree to its left, you’ll know that I’m on my way back from work… or that it’s almost time for dinner,” he chuckled.

You hesitantly reached for his arm to examine the wristwatch he wore, reading the time that read 6:02pm. You always heard about people being able to tell the time from the sky, but you never actually believed it untll now.

“You never told me what you do for work?”

He sighed playfully in response, “So many questions, my love, but the answers will have to wait.”

Your eyes wandered off again before landing on a secluded green house with sage-stained glass trimming the domed ceiling.

“I have just one more question, Jungwon.”

“Mhm, and what’s the catch?”

“That if you answer honestly, I promise not to ask you anything else for the rest of this week.”

“Aww, what a stingy time frame,” he pouted, trying to hold back a smile, “what must you know, love?”

“That green place over there,” you said, pointing in its direction, “I wanna know what that is. If you don't mind sharing...”

You could see Jungwon swallow deeply at your question, placing his hands on his hips before slowly pacing back and forth.

“You promise you won’t ask me anything else if I tell you this,” he asked, meeting your eyes with his own nervous ones.

“Yes, Jungwon, I promise.”

He took a deep breath before speaking, “I’ll start with saying that it’s forbidden. Though, it’s where I keep the more…precious of my belongings. And exotic plants, too, like the ones I put in your tea.”

“Why is it forbidden—”

“Nuh-uh, no more questions, love," he interrupted, taking your hand in his before heading back to the cabin. "I'll take you to the kitchen where I keep my first aid supplies. It'll come in handy if you ever injure yourself while I'm gone."

You were still feeling relatively sleepy after just getting up, but you knew it'd benefit you later if you payed attention to his teachings.

"I know how to use a band-aid, Jungwon," you joked, skipping behind him with lazy steps.

“Well, in that case, we can skip this lesson," he said, letting go of your hand before rushing inside. Only a few seconds passed before he ran back out with a shotgun in his hand.

"I'm sure you'll want a tutorial for this one."

☆ Special thanks to @guessm0del for requesting a continuation of this piece! I'm honestly not too proud of this one, but hey, I tried! Hopefully it’ll come together better if y’all want a part 3...

☆ taglist: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled  @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @rickysblkgf @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii  @valhrts @lisaaannna @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07@tubatusoobs @03sunoos @clarisabutterfliescupcake @yevene @heecries @rosiemiayyxy @jungwonieee @edgykoo @luvmlkw @idkhoomanmaybe @sunsinmyskies

[supernaturalfreewill]

"God, Sam!" You steadied him as he nearly collapsed in your entryway as soon as the door was open. "Jesus, what happened?" you asked, your eyes drawn to the concerningly large crimson stain spreading across his stomach and side.

Sam hobbled farther inside your house and you slammed the door on the cold and the rain. "I'm—" he winced, "sorry to just show up like this. You're the closest safe place I could think of."

"It's fine. Were you driving around like this??" You ushered him into a chair and then surveyed him again. "Look at you. I told you: heroes get hurt, Sam. Villains get even," you joked, despite the seriousness of his injuries. "I suspect they have more fun too."

Sam managed a small laugh which drew his mouth into another wince. He settled more heavily back into the chair. "Are you suggesting you're the latter?"

You tilted your head, considering him for a long moment. Even pale, bathed in sweat, and covered in his own blood the man was handsome. It was almost infuriating. "It's a work in progress."

Sam laughed again. "You're a healer. I don't think being a villain is in the cards for you."

You began to unbutton his shirt so you could see the full extent of the damage and set to work. "Maybe not. But you won't find me throwing myself into danger in quite the same way you and Dean do."

"Good," Sam said. "But I'm hoping you can help me with this?" he asked as his shirt fell away.

You nodded, knowing this would drain much of your energy. "Yes, I can. But it may take me a couple days to finish completely," you replied, alternately balling your hands into fists and stretching your fingers out, as if warming them up. You hovered them over the wound and could feel the burn and sting of it itching in your palms. Your eyes shut.

Sam studied your dark lashes and the pout of your lips. "You don't have to heal it completely. Just—make sure it doesn't kill me," he added with a dry laugh.

"Hush," you scolded him, not opening your eyes. "This is my expertise, hero. I'll do what's best."

Prompt: "Look at you. I told you: heroes get hurt. Villains get even."

[if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi]

Disclaimer: I do not own any Planet Puto Character - Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto.This might or might not be a self insert, please don't come for me.

A/N: Am I insane and out of my mind? Yes. Was I in the middle of a creativity block and just pulled this world building shit out of thin air? Also yes.

~Royalty! AU~ INTRODUCTION

"That one looks half decent..."

Lakan smirked as he pointed into you using the sharp end of his sword, not caring if you're already trembling. Is it because of the fear? or maybe it's from being on your knees on the snowy ground with nothing but thin and tattered clothes for god knows how long, you don't really know at this point.

The military general leans down to your level hand grabbing your cheeks roughly and forcing you to look up at him.

"Tell me, peasant. What entertaining stuff can you do? Careful about your answer, your life depends on it." His voice, although very soft and playful has that menacing tone that didn't fail to give you goosebumps.

The ground was cold and the air was thick— filled with cries for mercy as Lakan's troops destroy and slaughter whatever they lay eyes on.

"I- I can play instruments and write poetry, Sir." You stuttered as your voice get struck in your throat.

"We're taking this one home." Lakan grinned at your response before letting go of your face.

"This will do for Maliksi's birthday present. Now let's pack up before the enemy's reinforcements arrive. Just set fire to everything then let's call it a day."

The servants looked at you somberly as you were dragged out of the carriage and into the palace gates, the soldiers handling you roughly. You can't blame them, after all you are nothing but a peasant from the losing side of this wretched war. These people are the ruthless victors, their hands soaked with the blood of your fellow civilians that unfortunately got caught in the middle of slaughter.

"Lakan, what is the meaning of this?" A firm voice caught your attention but you kept your head lowered on the ground.

Makisig quickly motioned towards his courtesans to help you stand up as he walked towards Lakan.

"Oh, if it isn't my own brother, the King." Lakan tauntingly said as he bowed slightly. He's always despised the idea of Makisig ascending to the throne despite being younger than him.

That position was meant for him, yet here he is, reduced to being the general who spends more time outside the palace walls instead of seating on that fancy throne he's always dreamt of.

"Cut it out! What are you doing? You do know that the enemies already called defeat and you can't be taking in anymore war prisoners!"

"Prisoner? That one was a present for our youngest brother."

"A present?! Our brother is nothing like you! He won't enjoy such fatuity—"

"And? Who does he take after then? Everyone here knows that the young prince isn't soft like you! Hell, I bet he'll be a better king than you!"

Makisig's royal guards quickly drew blade and pointed it at the general. They will not stand for any slander against the King. It is a crime of treason afterall and will be punishable by death. The King sighed, "Lower your blades! He's still my brother."

Lakan softly chuckled as he turned to walk away. "See? I told you. Soft. Please have your courtesans clean up and dress that girl, then take her to my room. I'll deliver her myself to Maliksi."

You shivered at the first touch of cold water into your skin as the royal courtesans started giving you a bath. You've literally been in crossfire and to say that you are filthy is an understatement. You didn't even know how Lakan was able to spot you amongst the civilians.

No one was talking, probably out of pity for you and what you went through— your kingdom just lost the war, your town was burnt to a crisp, you watched the others getting killed infront of you. You are someone who lost everything.

After your bath, they dressed you up in a fine dress, probably too grand from what you were expecting, and then they proceeded to put your curly hair up in a bun using an intricate pin.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you can't help but admire your reflection. Funny what a bath and some fancy fabric can do.

"You look pretty." One of the courtesans whispered as she gave you a kind smile. All of them looked hopeful and sweet, probably wishing you good fate inside the very walls of this palace just like them. They all lined up as they silently lead you to Lakan's quarters.

"Bring her in and leave." Lakan said from the inside of the room before the royal courtesans can even knock. They did just that but before they finally close the door, they looked at each other before giving you a reassuring nod.

As soon as the doors closed, the royal courtesans raced towards Maliksi's quarters. He wasn't the friendliest towards them, and they will surely be yelled at for disturbing him at this time, but they all know Lakan and the poor fate every other lady went through after spending time alone with him in his quarters. They cannot just do nothing after sending you to your possible doom.

Lakan's room is dark yet you can feel his stares boring a hole to your very being. "Guess I was right, you do look good."

The general smirked as he slowly walked towards you. "A poet and a musician doesn't have a right to look this good. It'll be such a waste to just give you to my youngest brother afterall." He softly said, his hot breath fanning into your neck as he leans in while his hand reaches out to slightly slide the dress down and reveal your left shoulder.

"Maybe I should get a taste first, before giving you to Maliksi."

You grabbed fistfuls into your dress as you held yourself from talking back or trying fighting him off— you knew this man would not hesitate in killing you if you do something as much as turn down his advances.

You can feel warm tears form and trickle down your cheeks, knowing that you can't ask him to stop if you wanted to live.

"I don't accept leftovers, brother. It's rude to gift someone stuff that you already used." A cold voice emerged from the shadows as you felt being snatched from Lakan's grip and being pulled as someone held you gently by your waist.

"Gods! Maliksi, can you stop doing that?! I know that you're the only one blessed with magic among us but just stop popping out of the shadows, it creeps me out. Can't you use a fucking door like a normal person?"

"It's called teleportation magic. I didn't popped out of the shadows, your room is just as dark as your soul. Anyway, you boldly declared this lady as a present for me earlier and I have eyewitnesses. I came here to pick her up." Maliksi nonchalantly said as he rolled his eyes, still holding you close to him.

"It's those courtesans...I knew it! If it weren't for the King's protection, I would've already cut their heads off." Lakan muttered underneath his breath while he gritted his teeth. "Aaaww, come on, brother! Can't we share just this once—"

Maliksi's expression hardened as he looked Lakan up and down. You can feel just how intimidating this man is despite him being shorter than the general.

"I believe we already established that since we were kids....That if you try touching what's mine, I'll be burning your fingers off." The young prince coldly said, his grip on your waist slightly tightening.

Lakan chuckled as he slowly backed away. He wasn't irritated at how his youngest brother is acting— oh, this is so much better than him being a big pretentious softy just like the King.

"As you wish, brother." The general smiled, everything is going according to his plan afterall.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Hi! Welcome to the Royalty! Au that involves Planet Puto (philmytcrea au) characters. I do not own them, they are HC's Original Characters.

Please follow and support them here: https://www.tumblr.com/ask-emilz-de-philz / @ask-emilz-de-philz

I wanted to take time to clarify that this is fiction on fiction.

Yes, Lakan, Makisig, and Maliksi are brothers in this AU.

Yes, we hab King! Makisig here.

Lakan is the oldest, but Makisig was the one who ascended to the throne after their father died.

Yes, there is an ongoing war and Y/N (You/ Reader) is from the enemy kingdom who just declared Loss/ Defeat against Makisig's Kingdom.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND APPRECIATING WHAT I WRITE! ;;

[infiniversegod]

omg i have a list of some illogical manifestations of mine and i'm more than happy to share

i managed to manifest heating up water "idk the name of the power" but i've put my hand in cold water and said my affirmations and i felt it warming up to temperature that's nice to take a bath in

i've manifested things appearing out of thin air like food, my laptop, figures, money.. etc.

i've manifested a drawing of mine to come to life as person, i literally drew someone and said to myself wouldn't it be funny if they came to life? few days later i met someone with the exact traits i've drawn " it was NOT fun lmaoo"

there's more but i'll write them down and get back to you!!

Hi!!!! Thank you so much for sharing!!! This is AMAZING!!! 🖤🤩 I’m going to start a post list soon with these illogical success stories!!! I’m genuinely curious when you manifested things appearing out of thin air, did you see them appear before your eyes like materialisation or did they just randomly appear when you don’t remember seeing them?? Definitely keep them coming pls!!! 🤩

[nothing0fnothing]

One time my mother, in a rage over open windows, came to my closed bedroom door and hit it so hard the coat hook attached to my side of it came down. The door did not open, as the handle needed to be turned to do that. When she engaged the handle the wooden coat hook, with my coats on top of it, caught under the door and jammed it in place.

I had been sitting happily on my bed, quietly playing Nintendogs on my DS when this happened, with no idea I'd done something wrong. When I head the door bang and watched the coat hanger clatter to the ground I lept up in fright and, on instinct, drew away from the door I anticipated would fly open at any second.

The door had no lock installed on it, and never had. We were not a locks on doors household, the only one being the tiny silver slide lock on the downstairs half bath. Nevertheless, she accused me of locking the door, and demanded I unlock it immediately.

I approached the shaking door gingerly, very afraid to be near it when the coat became dislodged. She was screaming and banging so hard and with such tenacity that I'd barely managed to jump out of its path just in time as it swung open fast and hard, missing my face by a hair and slamming hard against the wall.

Now inside my room, she approached, looming over me, screaming barely coherent words, scaring the absolute soul out of me. She had me backed into the corner on the other side of the room, drawn into myself completely, as if I could shrink into my own shadow and disappear.

Suddenly she stopped, turned around and went out the way she'd came.

"Clean up this shit." She snapped, gesturing the the mess of broken wood and coats that was now crumpled in a heap at the wall.

Then she was gone, slamming my door behind her, leaving me scared and shaking, my arms still reflexively up in a defense position my eyes still streaming. I stood there a moment composing myself, eyes glued on the door processing what had just happened.

Luckily I'd stood there in shock before jumping to her command to clean up the broken coat hooks, because if I hadn't the door would have hit me hard as she slammed it against the wall a second time.

I turned white as a sheet as I realised I was stood exactly as I was when she told me to clean the coats up less than twenty second prior.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing" I answered honestly, my first word since this entire interaction began.

She screamed a long screech and stormed away. She left the door open with the coat mess behind it, and cowering like a frightened cat as she went to find something or someone else to inflict her mood onto.

I waited a beat to see if she was coming back, but once I'd tracked her footsteps to the back door, the complete other side to the house that I was on, I breathed for what felt like the first time in a whole minute. The room felt cold and the quiet, the repetitive music drifting out of my DS felt out of place. I carefully moved the door so I could get to what was behind it, ensuring I'd left it ajar so I could easily hear what was going on downstairs and have some warning if she came back.

Crouched uncomfortably, I began collecting and sorting the mess. Broken wood in one pile, coats in another, while I considered what to do with them now I had no hooks to hang them from. Mum might fly off again if I let them take up a lot of space if hung inside my wardrobe, but she also might if I let them take up 4 whole hooks supposed to be shared by the family on the coat hooks in the foyer. I could stack them in twos, only taking up two hooks, but I didn't want to face the wrath if one slipped or fell either. I was considering the possibility of hanging them on coat hangers on the outside of my wardrobe, draping them over the doors until I heard movement again.

I froze completely still while I tracked the movement from the back garden door, through the kitchen and into the dining room, going cold when I realised it was coming in my direction. It stopped at the stairs and my mums voice, shrill and too loud came from up them.

"Why is your door closed?"

I grabbed and pulled it open fast, praying she wouldn't come up and see how I'd let it scatter the wood pieces.

"Did I tell you to open it or did I ask you why it was closed?"

"I'm cleaning the wood up" I squeaked, scrambling to collect them all into the bin.

"Wood? What wood?" She asked. I trembled in horror hearing her begin up the stairs again. "What wood?" She repeated, angrier, I couldn't even string an explanation together, frightened that a retelling of the truth might come across too critical and earn me a beating.

It didn't matter anyway, because she was now in my bedroom doorway for the third time since this began, staring down at me as I got the last of the broken bits into the bin. My heart was thumping so painfully hard in my chest a panicked thought loudly told me that I'd surely have a heart attack and die at any moment.

"You've been up here for half an hour doing that?" She asked. I wasn't sure I was, but I nodded anyway.

She sighed angrily and took the coats from my lap. "Just play your game." She said, leaving the door ajar as she left.

Once my heart went back to normal and my cold skin warmed up, I allowed myself to sit gingerly on my bed again. I continued tracking her movements with my ears the rest of the day. They were less stompy and I even heard her laughing and joking on the phone.

I picked up a book and read for a while, then I let myself get back to my game, playing on mute, but still I let my ears follow her around the house, my stomach turning every time she approached the stairs. She left me alone till bed time, when she came to check I'd brushed my teeth and popped a hot chocolate on my night stand. I hugged her and let her kiss me and had nightmares all night.

[strobinbaby]

LET ME LOVE YOU

pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader

warnings: mature content ahead! [ kissing; smoking; unprotected sex; breeding?; ] minors dni!!

summary: aftermath of fucking, but she is greedy for more

word counter: 1.3k

a/n: hi and well,,, not eddie today, but im working on it, hope you enjoy xx please do not interact if you’re a minor! 

latest work / masterlist

any feedback (comments, reblogs, anon asks) would be appreciated!

I leaned against the shabby wooden door of a tiny balcony, clutching the sheet to my chest, my thighs still trembling, cold air stinging my cheeks, but helping to breathe easier. Clink. A tiny flame from a metal lighter lit up a cigarette pinched between my teeth, bathing my face in a warm orange light. 

White sheets were rumpled, a bedside lamp casted a dim glow, highlighting Joseph’s massive body from the side. He sprawled at the far end of the bed, a flimsy blanket draped over his naked body, his arms stretched behind his head as he watched me smoking, his eyes gleaming with devotion. It was around three in the morning, navy blue skies and a quiet city. I inhaled the poisonous fume, blowing out a cloud of smoke, a cherry red flicker of my cigarette burning brighter with every new tug. My gaze darted to Joseph, who studied me with a slumberous expression, cocking his head at me, his big brown eyes seducing me just staring. 

My feet carried me back to the bed, I let the sheet fall down, exposing myself for him once again. My nipples tightened at the cool whiff of air from the window, my cunt still sensitive from his fierce thrusts as I crawled over to straddle his lap. He looked handsome, a few curls fell messy over his forehead, that was coated in a thin layer of sweat, stubble coated his jaw, his mouth slack and his lips swollen from our kisses, his eyes, god, his eyes, a shade darker, lustful, devouring me. I drew on my cigarette and held it out to him. He accepted, clutching it with his fingers, cradling the back of my head, diving in to kiss me on the lips, on my shoulder, my arm, wet and prolonged, loving. Taking a tug he blew the smoke out to the side, his eyes still focused on me, hand moving lower to grip my hip, pushing me further into his body, making me mewl softly.

“Your cum is leaking out of me,” my whisper ghosted his lips as I slid my palms down his chest, stopping right above his abdomen, where the cloth was wrapped tight. He was warm and solid and I felt my breaths hitch all of a sudden. He put the cig out, throwing it into the ashtray on a nightstand, his palm firm on my thigh as he wetted his lips, shifting with me on top of him. Thick fingers brushed my folds, gathering the sticky liquid, smearing it all over my cunt, pushing them inside and moving in and out in a torturously slow pace.

“Joseph—“ I let out a shaky breath, merely grinding on his fingers, grasping his biceps for support, it was so fucking intimate, sensual, he just watched me, holding me by my hip with his other hand, the metal of his ring stinging my skin, “More, please.”

Abruptly he pulled out, leaving me empty, aching and whining at the loss of contact. 

“So needy, love,” he grumbled an inch away from my mouth, “Like I didn’t just fuck you fifteen minutes ago,” he lifted me up and tossed the sheet aside, lowering me back down, my bare skin meeting his, giving the slightest relief. I rubbed myself against his cock, coating him in my arousal, until he was hard again, looking him in the eyes as I did, trying so hard to hold back my moans.

“Can’t get enough of you,” I rasped, my forehead pressing his as I found my way to stroke him with my hand, eventually letting him sink in, easing his cock inside me, my moans overlapping with his strangled groans.

“Fuck, baby, so wet,” he nipped my jaw, veering to the spot below my ear, while I rolled my hips in a steady pace, threading my fingers through his curls, pulling him closer, “So good for me,” his voice was muffled as he buried his face into the crook of my neck, kissing my shoulder, his arms wound around my body, squeezing me tighter, “Such a sweet thing you are.”

“Joe, oh—“ I whimpered when his pelvis brushed my clit, “Jesus—“ my arm stretched to the headboard as I desperately braced myself over it, feeling Joseph’s mouth getting closer to my chest. His palms rested on my spine and I let myself lean into his touch, my head swam back as he sucked on my nipples, gentle and delicate, one t a time, while I moved back and forth, whining and fisting the sheets, “Joseph—” I pawed for his hair, tugging on his roots, making him groan into my skin, but he didn’t let go, he sucked a mouthful of my breast in, as much as he could fit, relieving it with a sloppy sound, breaking away.

A rapid light came from the window, a car drove past, the wind got stronger, cooling our bodies just a bit, the room smelled like perfume and sex and I was bordering on loosing control and letting go. 

“God, fuck, I love you,” I panted, delirious and dizzy, blinded with lust, “Your hands on my body, your fingers fucking me, your cock stretching me out, come inside? Please, Joe, I need your cum, wanna feel you spill inside me.”

Suddenly, I was pinned down, he seized my wrists, keeping them above my head, his chest heaving, my legs wrapped around his waist, my heels digging into his lower back, “So pretty like this, baby, fuck. Say something like that again, you love it when I fuck you, yeah? Coming for the third time and it’s only the middle of the night. I can use those fingers on you till the sun is up, darling, keep you full of my cum,” he bucked his hips faster, the lewd sound of our bodies slapping echoing through the room, his face dangerously close to mine, his breaths hot, burning my cheeks. The dirty promises he whispered, made me clench up “You’re addicting, you know that?“ my voice came out almost soundless, but loud enough for him to hear. He kissed me, bending my arms to hold them on both sides of my head, not willing to let go, thumbs rubbing little circles on the insides of my palms as he devoured my lips, slipping his tongue in, thrusting in and out of my swollen cunt, so affectionate. I didn’t even fight him, too exhausted and eager to come. 

“You are addicting, honey,” his palms gripped my thighs and he pushed my leg over his shoulder, fucking me deeper and rougher, nuzzling my neck, biting and marking my skin, “Could stay like this forever.”

“M’close,” I sobbed, scratching his back, feeling his chest weighing me down, the chain on his neck hanging low, tickling my skin, his curls falling down, brushing my forehead.

“I know, baby,” his lips were all over my neck and my face, “Give it up to me.”

The sensation of him being so deep, his low voice in my ear and my nails scratching his skin spurred me to come harder, I locked in a long spasm, gasping for air, arching my spine off the mattresses to meet his body as my high came crushing over, “Joe, oh, Joseph. Fuck—“

His nose brushed mine as he kept peppering my skin with tiny pecks, pushing my leg off his shoulder and propping himself up, his palms pressing the sheets.

“Give me a minute, okay?” he planted a quick kiss on my temple, fastening his pace and clenching his jaws, his forehead dropped to my shoulder, his moans grew louder. 

“Joseph,” I slid my hands down to his ass, squeezing and pushing him further, helping him move, deliberately clenching around him, “So good, baby, please don’t stop.” 

His cock twitched, his face sunk into my neck as the warm thick liquid spurted out, filling me in, his movements coming to a hilt.

When the high subsided, he searched for my face, drowsy and exhausted. Slowly he pulled out, snatching a pillow and pushing it under my lower back, “Can’t let it spill this time,” he smiled faintly, bending down to kiss my tummy,  his heavy palm flat on my stomach, his thumb pushing his cum back inside, “Gotta keep you full, darling.”

[achaotichuman]

Heaven Help A Fool Who Falls In Love

I found this in the depths of my WIPs and finished it to make myself feel better. Hope you like it.

“Tamlin!” Lucien slammed open the door, eyes blazing. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying not to lash out. They had a meeting going on. Right. That. Second. 

Tarquin and Helion were waiting downstairs, wondering exactly where the High lord of Spring was. Tarquin had organised the meeting, picking the options dealt to him that were most likely to accept alliances. After talking the matter over with Lucien, Tamlin had eagerly accepted, followed by Helion. 

Now they were in Tamlin’s study, sitting by the desk growing more agitated by the second. Lucien might have been more pissed about the situation than them, because where the fuck was his High lord hiding this time?

Tamlin wasn’t exactly great at keeping track of time, but this meeting they had been speaking of non-stop for weeks. It was their chance to forge the bonds ruined when Feyre came for them. Spring had mostly been rebuilt and most of the population had returned after careful reconstruction of the Court, but they needed back their allies. 

Lucien angrily scanned the room, his metal eye clicking rapidly. It was shrouded in darkness as the curtains were closed. Through the dark he spotted a Fae sized lump hidden under the covers on the bed. 

Lucien nearly lost his mind. He stormed over to the curtains and threw them open, letting the sunlight flood the room. He heard a quiet, muffled groan from the bed and clenched his hands into tight fists. 

“Tamlin I swear to the Gods, if you are not dressed and ready under those covers I am going to burn you to death, Tarquin and Helion are waiting downstairs we don’t have time for this!” Lucien opened the window, allowing the cool breeze to hail through. 

“Meeting?” Tamlin croaked. 

Lucien went still, ears perked. 

His voice was eerily quiet, scratched and raspy. 

Lucien turned around and… God Gods. 

Tamlin looked like death itself.

His skin was pale and pasty, a flush of red spread across his near white skin. His hair was knotted and wet, sticking to the sides of his face from sweat. He sat up, arms trembling and swaying like he might pass out. 

All anger immediately dissipated, “Tam.” Lucien rushed out, half crawling onto the bed. 

“Tam what’s wrong.” Lucien asked.

Tamlin could only groan as he closed his eyes, just managing to sit up straight. He was still in his sleep clothes despite it bordering on afternoon. 

Lucie put a hand to his forehead and hissed in a breath as he drew it back, “Fuckin Cauldron, you’re burning up.”

“Luce..” Tamlin moaned quietly, swaying to his left, looking as though he was about to collapse. 

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” Lucien wrapped his hands around Tamlin’s too hot arms and Tamlin fell into his chest. Burying his face in the crook of Lucien’s neck. 

“It’s so cold in here.” Tamlin mumbled, his voice quivering. 

“Cold?” Lucien questioned, running a hand down Tamlin’s back, his shirt was utterly soaked. Still he took in too tight breaths, rasping, shivering in Lucien’s arms. 

“Lucien.” Tamlin whimpered like it was the only word he knew. He whined as he pressed himself closer to the Fox, “Everything hurts.”

“Okay. It’s okay.” Lucien murmured quietly. He pulled Tamlin into his arms and let the male drape himself against his friend. 

“Lucien, High lord.” Lucien looked over his shoulder to see a small servant girl standing in the doorway, “The High lords are growing impatient.”

Tamlin snapped his head up as he gasped in a breath, “Fuck the meeting, I need to-”

Tamlin tried to get up from the bed, but Lucien grabbed his waist and hauled him down to sit in his lap. Holding him there, Lucien called to the servant girl and told her, “Please run a bath, summon a healer, prepare new bedding and fresh sleepwear. And tell the kitchens to make up a soup. I’ll deal with the High lords in a moment.”

She straightened and curtsied low, “Of course my Lord.”

She left, shutting the door silently. Lucien breathed in slowly through his nose, then Tamlin tensed. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna throw up.” He gasped out. 

“Oh shit.” Lucien only took a second before he jumped up and hauled Tamlin to his feet, forcing the male to move with him. Tamlin closed his eyes and bit down on his lip. His arms wrapping around Lucien’s neck and his fingers digging into his back. 

Lucien considered throwing the male over his shoulder and just carrying him, but Tamlin sucked in a breath then ran to the bathroom himself. Lucien stood rooted in place, unsure of what exactly to do as retching sounds filled the room. The Fox awkwardly scrambled to the threshold and watched as Tamlin gripped the seat, near doubled over as he emptied the contents of his stomach. His blond hair a bird’s nest like mess. 

The firelord walked into the room and put a hand on Tamlin’s shoulder, getting down on his knee next to him. The Spring Lord retched again, but shooed him away with the hand closest to Lucien. 

“Fuck off!” Tamlin told him in between gagging. 

“I’m helping you Tam-”

“Don’t need your fuckin pity.” Tamlin croaked out. 

“Oh Tamlin.” Lucien murmured. He moved to sit behind him, the Spring Lord attempted to swat at him again. To get him to go away, to leave, to not see him in such a vulnerable position. 

Lucien just gently pulled his sweat soaked hair away from his face and tied it up with a leather strip in his pocket into a messy bun atop his head. 

Tamlin rolled his eyes, then dry heaved, his body out of fluids, but still purging. Lucien rubbed his back, murmuring about mundane things. The tiles, the lights, the weather, Helion’s over the top entrance into Spring on a carriage of Pegusi. 

Tamlin had laughed, then heaved again, before he finally fell back against Lucien’s chest. Gasping in breaths and coughing. Lucien ran his hands up and down Tamlin’s sides, gently soothing him. Whispering into the skin of his neck. 

Two servants entered the room, they didn’t look at the two on the ground for more than a second before they both went for the tub and filled it with lukewarm water. As they puttered around, Lucien managed to get Tamlin on his feet once again. The Spring Lord practically being carried by Lucien. 

Lucien led him to the sink and helped him to wash his mouth out. Then he wrapped a strong arm around the backs of his thighs and hefted him up onto the sink counter. He then tugged his shirt up. Tamlin lifted his arms with no resistance, allowing Lucien to take complete control and manhandle him as he pleased. 

“The bath is drawn, my Lords,” A servant said, a female with curly hair and green eyes told them. The other servant waved his hands and a small pile of fresh, folded clothing appeared. 

Lucien nodded to them, then jutted his head towards the door as he took the clean clothes from the male's hands, they both nodded and left quickly. 

At this point Tamlin had tipped his head back with his eyes closed, swaying again, too out of it to know what was happening. 

“Hey Tam.” Lucien murmured, walking back over to stand between his legs. Tamlin lazily moved his eyes downward, his pupils moved quickly back and forth, murky and unseeing. 

“You need a bath, okay. I need to take off these.” Lucien told him, talking slowly, as he pulled gently at his pants. 

Tamlin seemed in the moment enough to just nod his consent before tipping his head back, near unconscious already. 

Lucien snapped his fingers and the lower half of his friend’s clothing was gone, the male flinched slightly, but Lucien took him back into his arms and pulled him off the counter and then towards the bathtub. 

When they reached the edge, Lucien didn’t bother to try and lead Tamlin in on his own two feet. He swept an arm underneath his legs and around the back of his chest, lifting him off the floor. 

Tamlin didn’t care for the sudden change, he just nuzzled his face against the crook of Lucien’s neck. The fire lord pressed his nose into Tamlin’s kiss, grazing the too hot skin with his lips. 

He lowered Tamlin into the water. Tamlin gasped sharply, pulling up, back arching as he grabbed at Lucien’s shirt. Lucien whispered sweet nothings in his ear, gently pushing him down into the bath.

“You need to wash up. It’ll be alright, just a few minutes lovely. Then we’ll get you into some clean, dry clothes.”

Tamlin shuddered, wrapping his arms around Lucien’s neck and nearly dragging him into the water with him. Lucien kneeled on the floor beside the tub and quickly grabbed a bottle of rose-smelling soap and began to rub into the High lord’s skin. Tamlin made a small sound in the back of his throat as his eyes closed and his head tilted back. 

He mumbled something, words slurred and voice too quiet for Lucien to make out what he said. It didn’t sound happy but not uncomfortable, so Lucien just hummed in response, continuing his gentle ministrations. 

Tamlin’s skin began to cool off, but there was still a distinct heat to it. Regardless he was clean, and the water was old and grimy. Lucien slipped his arms around the Lord and quickly lifted him out. Tamlin gasped, a breathy, throaty noise, tightening his arms’ grip around Lucien’s neck. The Fox murmured sweet nothings in his ear as he drew up a drop of flame and caused the water on his skin to instantly evaporate. 

Tamlin sighed at the sudden warmth and the lack of chilling water all over his body. Lucien tried whispering his name but the High lord was barely able to respond, only managing more mumblings while his head lolled onto Lucien’s shoulder. His green eyes fluttered open, those long, gorgeous blonde eyelashes shading the piercing green underneath them. Lucien watched as Tamlin’s bottom lip stuck out just slightly in an almost pout. The Fox couldn’t suppress the quiet laugh that left his throat. 

“Time for bed,” Lucien said, Tamlin mumbled something in response, and Lucien kissed his forehead. 

With a touch of magic, Tamlin’s clothes were on his body, wrapping him in layers of warmth. Lucien walked back to his bed to see that the bedding had been changed. Gently, he lowered Tamlin down onto the mattress, then pulled the blankets over him. 

As Lucien pulled away, Tamlin whined, a high sound from the back of his throat. Lucien was beside him again in a second. Hands running through his blond hair. Tamlin grabbed Lucien’s wrist, holding as tightly as he could, though that wasn’t very tight, as his energy had been drained. 

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Lucien murmured. 

“Please don’t leave.” Tamlin managed to say, eyes falling shut and grip becoming looser on Lucien’s wrist. 

Lucien loosened a breath. 

Fuck. 

He stood up and Tamlin whined again, but he quickly pressed a kiss to his hair, making Tamlin’s eyelashes flutter. 

“I’ll be right back.” Lucien whispered, then quickly strode off. 

“Wait! Lucien!” 

Lucien so desperately wanted to go back, Tamlin was feverish and out of it. But he had something he had to do first. 

He near ran down the staircases, blazing past the servants, Alis caught his hand and pulled him back, “Lucien what is-”

“Tamlin’s sick.” Was all Lucien told her. 

Alis’ eyes widened by a fraction, then she quickly nodded and fled off to do whatever it was that Alis did when the High lord was sick. Lucien didn’t ponder on where she went for long. He walked into Tamlin’s office. 

Tarquin was playing with one of his white braids, Helion was staring at the ceiling, both looking oh so bored. 

“I’m sorry my Lords, but we will have to reschedule this meeting.” Lucien clapped his hands as he walked in, already anticipating the reaction. 

Tarquin’s eyes went wide with indignation, before his face quickly smoothed over. Anger edged on Helion’s face. Lucien remained stern, back ramrod straight, eyes set and hard. 

“We have been planning this meeting for weeks-” Tarquin started. 

“Unfortunately our planning did not account for illness, Tamlin is unable to so much as move from his room, we will have to reschedule.” Lucien said, with no room for argument in his voice, the only goal in his head was to get back to Tamlin as quickly as possible, with as minimal aggravation from the High lord’s as possible. 

Tarquin blinked, and Helion swivelled his head towards the door like he could peer up at Tamlin’s room. 

The Day Lord asked, “Tamlin’s sick?”

Lucien quirked an eyebrow, “Unfortunately.”

A sigh escaped the Summer Lord’s throat, as he tossed one leg over the other, “Perhaps next time lead with ‘Tamlin is sick’ otherwise arguments may ensue, Lucien.”

Helion grinned at Tarquin, “I was just about to ram him into the floor for making me come all this way just to not show.”

“Yes, wouldn’t want all the money you spent on that unnecessary dramatic entrance to go to waste would you.” Tarquin rolled his sea-blue eyes. 

“Unnecessary or not, you were impressed.” Helion accused. 

“Your Pegusi would be put to better use running about their arena’s than having to carry you here.” Tarquin threw back. 

Between the two lords a small argument ensued. Lucien loosened a breath, thankfully he was dealing with the most level headed Lords in Prythian, second maybe only to Thesan, who couldn’t make it due to mix-ups with meetings. Though Lucien was glad for it now. 

The Fox slipped quietly away from the meeting room, giving quick instructions to an attendant nearby to allow the Lords the choice to stay for the night. It was out of pure apology for their time having been wasted, but given Tarquin’s fear of anything germ related and Helion’s increasingly annoyed Pegusi wishing for flight, Lucien doubted either would take up the offer. 

With nimble feet, Lucien quickly fled back up to Tamlin’s room. Arriving by the large wooden door in just a few short minutes that felt like hours. 

The door was ever slightly ajar, when he pushed it open, soft light from the afternoon flooded his sight. Immediately drawing his gaze to the bed was a certain bark-skinned lesser Fae. Sitting on an emerald chair by the bed, stroking Tamlin’s golden hair away from his face. Alis watched with a mother’s loving gaze as the High lord shifted ever so slightly in his sleep. A bowl of warm water, with lavender and eucalyptus oil sat on the bedside table. Every so often Alis lightly dipped a washcloth into the water and ran it over Tamlin’s forehead, chest and hair. 

Lucien may have been able to stand there for several hours and Alis would not have even slightly noticed him. He considered leaving for a moment, but then remembered that he absolutely did not want to still be gone if Tamlin woke up. 

So the fox silently pushed open the door, and Alis looked up. Her Fae senses picking up on the sudden movement. She laid eyes on Lucien and smiled, eyes dipping back down to her adoptive son. 

“How did the High lords react?” She asked, running the washcloth over Tamlin’s forehead again. 

“Well, surprisingly well,” Lucien answered, Alis hummed in response, her rough fingers skirting over Tamlin’s temple. 

“How is he?” Lucien asked, closing the door and walking over. He slipped onto the bed, running a hand lightly down Tamlin’s side, ending up with resting his palm over the curve of his waist. As if sensing Lucien’s warmth returned, Tamlin made a small pleased sound which made Lucien and Alis laugh. 

“Not great, but he’ll be fine in a few days, so long as he rests.” Alis answered, “I’ve already called for a healer, she’ll be here in a few hours time.”

“What do you think it is?” Lucien asked, “A cold?”

Alis pursed her lips, then made another humming sound, “I don’t think so. I think he’s just run himself into the ground.”

“Again.” She added with an eye roll, then pinned Lucien with a glare he nearly flinched from, “Which is something you do to. Do you see what happens, Lucien, this is why we take breaks, no one needs you both sick from your own unwillingness to stop working.”

Lucien rolled his own eyes, then threaded his fingers through Tamlin’s hand, gently working the knots out of the blond strands. 

Alis put a hand on his, Lucien looked up as she moved his hand to face up and placed the washcloth in the centre of his palm. He raised an eyebrow, she said, “I have to go take care of my duties, you take care of him.”

The Fox blinked, then quickly nodded his head, “You go do what you need to do.”

Alis smiled, then leaned down and kissed Tamlin’s head, before quickly getting up, collecting her skirts and leaving. The door clicked shut, and Lucien was alone with Tamlin. 

Loosening a sigh, Lucien settled into the covers beside his High lord. Laying on his side, his head propped up by his hand. Free arm gently running the oils and warm water through his hair. 

A few minutes of silence passed, Lucien took in every line and curve of Tamlin’s form. The dip of his waist, his broad chest expanding with every breath, his long hair, damp and dark gold laying across the emerald sheets. 

Then he stirred, opening his eyes, Lucien startled slightly as Tamlin moved to lay on his back. Staring up at Lucien with bleary eyes. His pupils dilated and moved too quickly, not really focused on anything. 

“Hey sleepyhead.” Lucien murmured, placing the washcloth on the bedside table, before gently cupping the side of Tamlin’s face. Stroking his cheek with his thumb. Finally Tamlin’s eyes focused in on Lucien’s face, darting around his features before settling in on looking into his eyes. 

Tamlin mumbled something too quiet for Lucien to catch, the Fox chuckled, and pressed his forehead to Tamlin’s, “What was that, pretty boy?”

Tamlin breathed a laugh, “Pretty boy?”

Lucien bit down on his lip, trying to contain his grin, he was unsuccessful, “Yes, pretty boy.”

“Okay, handsome man.” Tamlin replied. 

Lucien’s face flushed bright pink, he ducked his head, laughing. Trying to hide his blush by pressing his face into Tamlin’s chest, hearing the strong heartbeat behind his ribs. Lucien’s right hand moved to grasp at Tamlin’s left, threading their fingers together. 

“Mhmm, my head hurts.” Tamlin moaned, eyes falling closed as his head tipped back. 

Lucien lifted his head, seeing the uncomfortable flush spread across the High lord’s skin. He shifted to sit up beside him. Tamlin opened his green eyes, duller than normal, no doubt a result of his exhaustion. Lucien hummed in sympathy as he tugged Tamlin by his arms, gently coaxing him into sitting up. Tamlin followed the motions, looking a little confused but far too tired to argue. 

Lucien put his hands on Tamlin’s waist and moved him to sit in his lap. His back to Lucien’s front, in between his legs. Tamlin furrowed his eyebrows, but Lucien put a hand on the crown of his head and lightly pushed his head back, to rest on his shoulder. Tamlin let out a content sigh as he finally relaxed against Lucien. 

Then the Fox put both hands into hair, firmly pressing the tips of his fingers into his scalp and rubbing circles into his head. Tamlin’s lashes fluttered as his eyes rolled back and a soft noise escaped his throat. 

“Like that, pretty boy?” Lucien asked with laughter in his voice. 

Tamlin smiled, beginning to slip back into a delirious state as sleep took hold again, “Yes, handsome man.”

Lucien bit his lip as he grinned like an idiot. Continuing his ministrations as Tamlin’s head rolled and he started to fall asleep. Tamlin’s lips pressed into Lucien’s neck as his breathing slowed into a deep, constant rhythm. Lucien’s head pressed back into the fabric headboard, watching his fingers work firm motions into Tamlin’s scalp, as the male shivered in unconscious pleasure when the emissary moved his fingers just right. 

“Such a pretty boy.” Lucien whispered in his ear. Tamlin didn’t respond, fully and utterly asleep, lost to his dreams, whatever happened there. Lucien smiled as he shifted, so he wasn’t stuck behind Tamlin. Wrapping an arm around him, and one slipping underneath his knees, Lucien effortlessly picked Tamlin up, the male groaned in frustration at being jostled so, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, but no less than a few seconds later, Lucien placed him back down onto the bed. Tamlin sighed at being in amongst the soft sheets again. 

Smiling, Lucien climbed back in beside him, moving to lay right beside him. Seeking out the warmth of Autumn fire, Tamlin shifted to face Lucien. The Fox wrapped both his strong arms around Tamlin, pulling him close. Tamlin hummed happily, burying his face into Lucien’s chest. Encased in warmth, their legs intertwined, Lucien pulled the duvet over them both. 

Lucien’s lips found Tamlin’s hair and temples, then his cheeks and forehead, kissing wherever he could. Rubbing his hands up and down his back, running his fingers through his hair, Lucien touched and kissed everything he could. As much as he could. Pouring every ounce of love he held for his High lord into each gesture.

“I love you,” Lucien whispered, “I love you, and I need you.”

Tamlin’s breath stuttered ever so slightly, Lucien murmured, “I need you like blood, my dear.”

“I love you too.” A croaky voice whispered back, into the planes of his chest, “I need you too.”

Redness creeping up his skin, Lucien bit down on his stupid smile and pulled Tamlin closer. Wanting to press into his skin and become one, nestled with each other in the dark forever. 

“My pretty boy.” Lucien whispered. 

“My handsome man.” Tamlin murmured, with laughing eyes as he looked up at Lucien. 

He could barely take it, his skin was bursting and he felt himself coming to pieces. Moving his hands, Lucien cupped Tamlin’s face. They were so close Lucien could see every little detail on his face, the freckle on the bridge of his nose, the tiny cut under his lip from a knife at training a few days ago, the pure love and adoration in his eyes when Lucien looked at him. 

“Tamlin.”

“Lucien.”

Neither remembered, nor cared who pressed forward first. Just that they did, and that brush of their lips was Lucien’s final string undone. He rolled them over, straddling Tamlin as he cupped the back of his head and pressed them closer together. Tamlin’s eyes rolled back, as Lucien kissed him like he was tasting heaven itself. Tamlin wrapped his arms around Lucien’s neck, kissing him back as slowly, but as deeply as the other. 

The Tamlin suddenly pulled back and Lucien was startled, for a moment fear flickered through him that they had gone to far, but Tamlin just sat up quickly, nearly pushing Lucien off of him as he sneezed into his elbow, groaning as he put a hand to his head, the headache returning in full. 

“Shit, right, you’re sick.” Lucien laughed, in the heat of that second he had forgotten everything except Tamlin’s lips on his. 

“Yeah.” Tamlin laughed, though his voice sounded sore and blocked, “Just a bit.”

Lucien smiled, then took his hands, “C’mon, let’s get you to sleep, pretty boy.”

Tamlin grinned, “Whatever you say, handsome man.”

[holeinthehedgerow]

The Bats of Senegal

Every morning, I wake up and sweep the bat shit- or guano to be more technical- out of my hut. This process has become something of an art form for me, an art form that I have perfected. I know where the bats like to hang out (I mean hang out in a very literal bat like sense), such as off the nail I hang my hat, or along the string I hang my dirty laundry on, or at the base of a world map I have strung up against a wall. I visit these bat rest stops daily, and I sweep the little piles of shit that have accumulated overnight into the center of my hut. At times, when I’ve been away for a few days, I arrive home to find the little piles as little mountains, which will then require a deeper more thorough sweeping.

            The wind here, in this corner of the world, flows assiduously from east to west. I’ve never seen it flow any other way. The wind blows across the Sahara Desert, across the Sahel, out into the ocean, sometimes it carries massive walls of sand and dust with it, and I’ve been told the dust particles will ultimately pick up water droplets out on the ocean and dump them in the form of a hurricane season along the eastern coast of my home, North America. This makes me homesick each morning as I sweep, from my hut’s eastern door to the one on the west wall, following the channel of the ever-present breeze that keeps me cool at night. I use the air flow like a wizard to help drift the dust and bat shit out of my little hut. I like to think this dust I sweep along the mud floor and out my west door gets picked up by the wind and finds its way to my home thousands of miles away in the form of a cold autumn rain.

            In Jaxanke, the language I speak in this village, the word for west is Tiloolaata, “where the sun sleeps”.

            I have a peaceful relationship with the bats in my hut. Even just one bat sighted in the home of a typical American would likely leave them terrorized until it is found and exterminated. But for me here, where I am constantly surrounded by the ethereal little demons, I’ve grown used to their presence. Despite their constant proximity, I don’t think I’ve ever actually touched one. However, I often feel their presence, in the form of a slight breeze from their tiny wings brushing the hairs on my skin as they fly around my body. The bats are like water, or maybe more like air, wrapping themselves around things with such unimaginable flawless dexterity, they never seem to touch anything. They move like shadows. I’ve been told they can catch and eat a thousand mosquitoes an hour. I like to imagine what the sound of the buzzing mosquitos’ wings, that sound which irritates me every night, must sound like to the delicate ears of a bat, how it must guide the little demons right to them. The fact that the irritating ringing buzz in my ears may well be the mosquitoes undoing brings me solace. Each morning, I sweep up thousands of mosquitoes in the form of guano and ship it off with the western wind, where it follows the sun back home.

            I’ve learned to never go to the bathroom during dawn or dusk. This is when the bats commute in and out of my toilet hole in which they live.

            At night I bathe myself, with water from a bucket I carried earlier that day atop my head a hundred feet from a well, an uncapped well that I drew the water out of with a rusted squealing pulley. As I bathe myself with the water left out to be warmed by the Sahelian sun all day, dumping it over my head, the bats swirl and dance around me, plucking mosquitoes out of the air, guarding me from their bloodthirst, and fanning me dry with tiny wings.

            The northern wall of my hut is painted black, and there is a grid drawn in with chalk, rows and columns and squares with big Xs crossing them out, counting down days until future days. I have lived here for seven-hundred and thirty days, twenty-four months, two years. I avoid counting the days. I have a fear that the days I will miss the most are the ones I disrespected with a big chalk X. The days I waited to have ended. I try to stay present while I am in my village, but thoughts of the future ambush me constantly. Thoughts of cheese, hot showers, clean bed sheets, and sitting on cushions. Thoughts of protein, hygiene, good sleep, and comfort.

            I know I will miss village life. I will miss living in a place without time. Where the only time is the position of the sun. It awakens in the morning in the east and goes to sleep in the evenings in the west. The only calendar here is the faces of the moon. In Jaxanke, the word for month is Carro, which literally means “moon”.

            I fear that this chapter of my life, my Peace Corps experience, when all of it is said and done and I return home, that the things I miss the most won’t be the extravagant grand moments of my time here, but rather the simple and mundane. Such as the cracking of peanut shells with my host sisters in the shade of the peanut shelling machine, a machine we simply never use because then we’d have nothing to do. What I’m going to miss are the moments which so easily pass by me unnoticed unless I am actively there. I fear the days I miss the most will be the days on the calendar I count off until the next time I get to eat a cheeseburger. What I will miss are the moments that fleetingly get passed by time; unnoticed and at times not even remembered, but simply seen as features of a chapter in my life. Features like being fanned dry by bat wings, carrying water atop my head, or watching the sun go to sleep on the horizon.

[viscerax]

could you do one bruce yamada x reader, where she is super shy and when (which bruce fell in love with) and he confesses his love for her, she doesn't find a way to express that she also likes him?😞🙏, I really like him and I don't I've seen nobody write about him except you 🤭

My Baseball Star

Pairings- Bruce Yamada x fem!reader

Plot- in the ask

A/n- oh boy oh boy first writing I've done in a while olz forgive me yall

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The cold relief of lemonade hit your tongue, and you let out a relieved sigh. The Colorado summers weren't absolutely horrible, but being stuck outside, surrounded by sticky kids and sweat middle aged dads who got in your face and smelled like they hadn't showered in days, made it seem like you were being suffocated by the heat. Not to mention the yelling, or the burning hot bleachers. That's what you get when your friends drag you to a baseball game then abandon you to go flirt with the boys on the team.

Social outings weren't really your 'forte'. You'd rather stay at home, sat in front of the fan and reading Nancy Drew books or painting. And yet, you were practically dragged out of the house like a child, and forced to be squeezed between some 3 year old slobbering over cheerios, and somebody's mom whom was awfully loud and smelled like she took baths in perfume.

You tried to focus on the game rather then your surroundings, and you found yourself watching a particular player, Bruce Yamada. He was pretty, so it was no wonder why all the girls had a crush on him. Even one of your friends seemed to fawn over him, squealing up by the cage when he winked at her. You felt an odd pang of jealousy.

"I could never even have a chance with him! Why am I jealous?"

You huffed and suddenly stood up, squeezing past the dozens of people on the bleachers and slowly walking down the steps, your white sun dress gently blowing in the breeze. You went down to stand next to your friends, who took a few seconds to even notice you were there.

"Oh, there you are, Y/n! Enjoying the game?" One of your friends, Stacy hummed.

You shrugged. "Its... alright." You hummed and averted your gaze to the game in front of you. Your eyes of course landed on the infamous Bruce Yamada again, and you swear he was looking directly at you, and smiling. Your cheeks quickly brightened to a shade of red, much to Stacy's amusement.

"Ooooh- I think Y/n has a crushhhh!!" She cooed and all your other friends whooped and whistled. It was rare you ever talked about your love life because well, it was practically non-existent. "So, who is it? That shaggy haired boy on the other team? Oooh, is it Tommy? He's cute. Seems like your type."

"Uhm- its actually-" you sighed and glanced around, hoping none of Bruce's friends were nearby. "-Bruce. Uhm, Bruce yamada."

Stacy looked surprised. "Bruce, hm? He doesn't really seem like your type. Althoughi do have to admit he is pretty cute." Stacy seemed to he in deep thought when another friend, Leslie piped in.

"Well, you know what they say. Opposites attract. I think they would he kind of cute together. You should totally shoot your shot, Y/n!"

You urgently shook your head in protest. "Nope, no way! Never. I don't have a chance with him. I'm not up for embarrassing myself today." You huffed and looked away, your cheeks still bright red, although that could be attributed to the heat.

"Oh come on! You're a total babe! Of course you have a chance with him. In fact, hes stupid if he rejects you! You're a catch!" Stacy giggled and nudged you in the side. You stumbled a bit and shook your head.

"I just- I don't know. He's way out of my league." You shrugged and leaned against the cage again. Stacy rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the game.

After the game was over, Stacy dragged you along with her to go talk to the boys. You were hesitant to even approach them, but when you pictured the mental image of you standing off to the side while your friends all talked to their boy crushes, you decided you would look much more awkward if you didn't talk to them. Your palms got all sweaty as you shuffled behind your group of friends. They each branched off to talk to their crushes or boyfriends, and it ended up with you listening to one of the boys flirt with Stacy.

You could care less about that conversation though. What you were more interested in was the taller boy who sauntered his way over with the grace of a fall leaf sinking to the floor. Even the way he walked was entrancing. Sure, that was a creepy thought, but its not like you were going to say that to him.

Bruce had finally stopped a foot away from you and smiled, reaching out his calloused hand. You awkwardly shook his hand, and he chuckled, giving you a charming smile. You tried to smile back, but cringed at how much your lips quivered.

"I'm Bruce. What is the name of this pretty lady standing in front of me?" Bruce shook your hand before gently placing a kiss on your knuckles.

Oh, this boy had class.

You blushed heavily, and words struggled to roll off your tongue. "Uh-uhm..." you took a deep breath, trying to calm your shaky breath. "I'm Y/n. I-its a pleasure to meet you, Bruce. You uhm- you play really well." Your words were broken up and shaky, but at least they were comprehensible.

"Oh- well thank you, Ms. Y/n. Its a pleasure to meet you as well." Bruce hummed, pulling a wrinkled up paper out of his pocket. "You're quite the beauty. How about after I get washed up, me and you go off and get some milkshakes, maybe go see a movie?"

Your heart dropped. And not in the bad way. In the way where your breaths get all shaky, and you feel like maybe you'll start floating.

You just kind of stood, a blank expression on your face, and Bruce had an apprehensive look on his face. "If you don't want to, that's cool to. Just couldn't pass up on an opportunity like this." He smiled and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Heat immediately followed the spot where his fingers brushed your cheek.

"I'll tell you what, I'll give you my number, when you make up your mind, give me a call, okay?" He smiled and clasped the crumpled up paper into your hand before winking and turning around to join the rest of his team, who had already began walking off.

Stacy ran over to you, a giddy smile on her face. "Oh my God, Y/n! Hes totally into you. I cod see it from a mile away. Are you gonna go on a date with him? You have to let me know how it goes!"

You nodded, and before you knew it, you were at home, nervously dialing the numbers messily scribbled. You almost hung up the moment the phone started ringing.

"Yamada residence?" A nice, feminine voice sounded from the other side of the phone. She had a bit of an accent, but you could still easily decipher her words.

"H-hi! Uhm- is Bruce home?" You nervously stuttered, your feet shuffling nervously against the floor.

"Yes he is, may I ask who is calling?"

"Uh-uhm, its Y/n."

"One minute hun." She hummed and you could faintly hear her shout for Bruce, informing him that it was you calling.

A few seconds later, the phone was passed off to Bruce. "Hey, made up your mind?" Bruce's charismatic voice hummed from the other line, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Uh-uhm yeah. H-how does 6 s-sound?" Your voice was weak and cracked at least 4 times, but you finally said it.

"Sure. I'll be there to pick you up." He hummed and before he could say anything else, you hung up the phone and let put a squeal of excitement.

Despite all your nerves and anxiety, you broke past that one barrier, and now you were on your way to a date with the hottest boy in town.

[siriannatan]

I had Convex thoughts, and I have no idea when I'll have time for a longer piece so I decided to share some of my thoughts :}

(I might have written it all on my phone which I rarely do)

Warning: unsolicited kiss.

CubScar modern magic au

Cub inherited old aunt's house but cannot sell it before he's lived there for three years.

He moves in on a late, rainy evening and with no energy left leaves unpacking for the next day that according to internet would be as cold and rainy as the late evening.

When he wakes up there are signs of fire burning in the fireplace that he never started. All his things are unpacked and orderly sorted in the walk in closet. His laptop that was dead last evening after hours of dealing with matters of aunt Constance's will is charged on a small desk near the bed. A fresh and folded too perfectly set of clothes is waiting for him.

Radio's playing somewhere in the house.

Against his better judgement Cub, not getting dressed yet, instead of calling the cops went to investigate. The radio could be on some weird timer after all, and he was willing to chuck all else at forgetting he did it due to being tired.

Downstairs in the kitchen he meets a handsome man. Man is a wrong word. A demon, judging by twisting horns and tail. Dressed in a garish maroon suit, setting a table ready for breakfast. Who quickly turned to greet him with a wide smile and "Good morning, master. I hope you slept well," before Cub fainted, sure he was still asleep.

Instead of hard wood floor he hit something warm and soft.

When he woke up again he was in the bed, breakfast on a rolling cabinet, the demon opening the curtains.

.................

Cub had no magic so far BCS of a seal his aunt placed on him, intending to teach him when he got older. She died before she could do that so she summoned Scar to guard and help Cub as the seal broke with her death.

She purposely chose an incubus since he could stop excess magical energy that Cub would have the easiest and safest way. Kissing him

....................

After Cub wakes up after fainting, he feels too warm and really weird.

"I really would have preferred to explain first but," the demon sighed, loosening the ribbon and collar of his shirt. "But we have to kiss unless you want to die rather painfully. The names Scar if it makes it better," he said and before Cub could protest there was a pair of soft lips on his. Scar's tail wrapping aroun one of his wrists. It was shockingly strong, stopping him from pushing the demon away.

As much as Cub hated to admit it the kiss was nice. And his first one ever. And it made the heat and dull pain slowly go away. Up this close Scar's eyes were unnaturally green. And shine with something Cub could not name.

...........

"What are you doing?" Cub asked as the demon, instead of leaving the room so he can dress in peace, picked up the who knows when ironed shirt. As if he was goin to...

"Helping you get dressed, obviously," Scar said, with that infuriatingly handsome smile of his.

This was where Cub drew the line. He can accept surprise kisses. Having all his stuff unpacked. Clothes ironed, as uncomfortable as that made him feel. But not help with getting dressed. "No," he said and practically tossed the demon out the room. And took a deep, relieved sigh.

He was about to start getting dressed when a disgruntled Scar walked in through the locked door. "I am very sorry but your aunt left me with clear instruction to take care of you," this time his smile was borderline predatory.

Cub just gave up. He was not arguing with a demon he knows nothing about and who can walk through solid walls. As embarrassing as it was. "Fine... But no helping me with bathing and such. I'm a grown man, I can take care of myself," Cub huffed, mostly to save some of his dignity.

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Deep like water: Chapter 4 – Punished by Mystra

(Trigger warnings: angst, depression, life crisis, graphic description of evil magic that tries to consume the human body, masturbation)

When Gale awoke in his living room, he felt like shit. His head was spinning, his body felt heavy, and there was a painful pressure squeezing in his chest. Groaning, the wizard struggled to sit up, only to collapse again. He tried again, and before he could do anything about it, he vomited all over the carpet.

Am I dying? Gale asked himself as he rolled into a ball. The pressure in his chest was almost unbearable and he absentmindedly clawed at his left pectoral until he drew blood. The pain forced tears into his eyes and down his cheeks.

"Oh, my! Mister Dekarios!"

Gale sobbed in relief when he felt warm, soft fur brush against the back of his neck.

"Tara... Tara, help me, I'm dying."

"What happened? It was that godsforsaken tome, wasn't it?"

Gale whimpered and his friend started to lick the tears off his cheek.

"I feel vile, corrupted magic flowing through your body, pulsing vulgarly like a black hole or a pus-oozing wound."

The wizard swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut in shame and humiliation.

"I lost control," he croaked. "I failed, and now, Mystra abandoned me. I'm no longer her Chosen."

Tara pushed her fluffy head under his chin and started purring.

They stayed like this for hours, letting the day pass.

Gale could feel the Netherese Destruction Orb beat in his chest, hungry for magic. When he'd finally been able to get up from the floor, he searched his belongings for a magical item to be absorbed by it. It eased the pain in his chest, like a cold glass of water quenched one's thirst on a hot summer day, but the Orb's hunger was insatiably, demanding more energy.

Thanks to his extensive research, Gale knew enough auf the menacing magic trapped in his chest. The Orb could only be stabilised by allowing it to break down parts of the Weave around it, and if it wasn't fed regularly from the outside, it would begin to feed on Gale's own life source from the inside. If the Orb's balance was disrupted, by lack of magic or Gale's emotional turmoil, it would simply combust, killing the wizard and anything within its radius the size of Waterdeep.

To make matters worse, Gale realised Mystra had abandoned him completely and he was cut off from the Weave, stripped off all his powers, with a ticking time bomb in his chest. The once greatest wizard prodigy of his time and the Goddess of Magic's Chosen, had become a mere human. Gale had never felt so utterly alone and hopeless before.

"Quit wallowing in self-pity and eat something!" Tara said sternly. "You haven't left your bed in days, haven't eaten anything, and reek worse than a wet dog!"

Gale didn't move. His body felt heavy, his mind was darkened and joyless. But the Orb that was balled up inside his aching chest needed to be fed. Gale stretched out his hand.

"I'm not hungry. Just bring me one of the artefacts."

Tara tsked, stomping around louder than necessary, but she still fetched a pair of magic gauntlets for him. Unenthusiastically, Gale pressed them against his chest, closed his eyes, and let the never-sated Orb absorb the energy. The painful pressure in his chest lessened slightly, but he knew that the relief would only be temporary. Still, no matter how depressed he was, he didn't intend to kill himself and all of Waterdeep. The residents of his birthplace didn't deserve such a death because he'd overestimated his powers and had failed to control the Netherese Weave.

It took another four days of constant, persisting scolding from Tara until Gale finally left the bedroom.

"Eat, wash, and for the love of all that's dear, shave, Mister Dekarios. I'd cut it down myself if I could hold a razor," she told him motherly and sternly.

Gale complied reluctantly, sinking into the hot, lavender-scented bath. He closed his eyes and wished that the water could wash away all woes. An external manifestation of the Orb had made itself known on his chest as a tattoo-like imprint in the shape of an aflame circle with swirling lines that went up the side of his neck. Gale hated this permanently-visible reminder of his greatest mistake.

After freshening up, he apathetically stirred in his bowl of soup. He hadn't gone outside to buy anything fresh and he couldn't conjure up anything, but thankfully, his pantry was stocked with pre-canned meals he'd made before his life had gone down the drain.

"You must keep your strength," Tara drummed into him while feasting on some fish. "It's time, my brilliant friend solves his terrible problem."

"I can't, Tara," Gale replied, frustrated. "Magic's like water; it slips through your fingers and can't be caught without a vessel. Usually, I can effortlessly be that vessel, but now, it feels like I'm littered with holes, like a colander, and the magic slips from me, no matter how hard I try to catch it. Without it, I can't do anything other than being useless."

At that, the tressym bristled.

"You're not useless. How dare you even let this atrocious thought cross your pained mind!"

Furiously, Gale jumped off the chair, stretching out his arms, while yelling: "Look at me, Tara! I'm merely a shadow of what I once was! I was a prodigy, Mystra's Chosen, a promising wizard who could have made the world a better place. Now, I'm nothing! I'm nothing without my magic!"

His last sentence hung in the air like the lash of a whip in the sudden silence. Gale, trembling, looked at Tara, and his anger turned into despair and fear. His face's twisted as the first tears started to fall. It had been a long time ago since Gale had cried last, but now, it seemed like he couldn't stop. He stumbled into his bedroom and curled into a ball under the blanket. Tara hopped onto the bed, slinking closer.

"Who am I without my magic?" Gale sobbed. "A nobody. A nothing."

"That's not true, Mister Dekarios. Gale, you're so much more," spoke the tressym and rubbed her face against his cheek. "You're kind, polite, a talented cook, and a wonderful friend. And I love you so."

The wizard squeezed his eyes shut and kept weeping. Tara pressed her head under his chin and started to purr. Gale cried and cried until there were no tears left in him, and then, he fell asleep, exhausted.

Gale was ashamed and heartbroken. He locked himself into his tower and refused to leave the bedroom for months. Tara tried to force food into him and hunted for magical items to be consumed by the Orb to keep Gale from combusting and destroying all of Waterdeep and its residents with him.

Even though Gale ignored his mother's attempts to see him, Morena didn't give up on him. She learnt about his dire state thanks to Tara, and together, the sorceress and the tressym travelled near and far to buy magical artefacts to keep the Netherese Orb at bay and Gale alive.

When Morena, once again, knocked at her son's door furiously, Tara remarked: "You should let Miss Dekarios in. It does you no good to hide away in your home."

"I don't want to see my mum yet. I'm ashamed," Gale mumbled into his knees. "She'll say 'I told you so', and I can't deal with that right now."

Tara tsked.

"Give your mother more credit, Mister Dekarios. Even though that might be her reaction, she does it out of concern, not glee. Your mother loves you unconditionally."

"I know," he muttered, "but she shouldn't. I failed miserably, I brought shame over our family. I screwed it up because I wanted to impress the Goddess of Magic so badly. I'm such an idiot."

They fell silent again and Gale kept sitting there, with his legs drawn up and hiding his face in his crossed arms that rested on his knees.

"At least, drink your lavender tea," Tara told him.

He obeyed.

Gale locked himself into his home for an entire year, refusing to let anyone see him other than his dear friend Tara.

In spring, the tressym betrayed him and opened the door for his mother.

"You!" Morena yelled, storming into Gale's tower house like a fury. "You!"

The wizard prepared himself mentally for a good scolding, thus, he was taken aback when his mother hugged him tightly instead.

"Don't ever shut me out again, I was worried sick. Don't ever do that to me again!"

"Mum," was all Gale could croak out before he burst into tears.

Morena shushed him and rubbed his back soothingly.

"You've gotten skinny. Aren't you eating?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh, please! I'll cook something nice for you," his mother told him and walked into his kitchen.

Gale followed her with a sigh and cowered on a chair with his legs drawn up. They stayed silent. Morena put away the groceries she'd bought for him and set to work. Tara hopped onto the free chair next to Gale's, observing the scene. Morena got the noodles ready, put pine nuts, garlic cloves, basil, lamb's lettuce, and oil in the mortar and began pounding it all into a fine-grained sauce. Meanwhile, Gale mulled over what he could say to her. He was still ashamed and didn't know how to voice his regret.

"Mum, I'm sorry – about everything."

Morena pressed her lips together and hit the bottom of the mortar even harder. Gale sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead.

"Just say it, mum."

"I told you! I told you to be careful and now, look at you! Look what SHE has done to you!"

The words burst out of the sorceress like water from a reservoir dam.

"I'm not mad at you, honey. I'm not even disappointed because I know it's not your fault."

"Of course it is!" Gale shouted in a sudden upsurge of anger. "Mystra didn't tell me to fetch that book, she even advised against it! It was my own stupidity that got me into this godsforsaken situation. I brought this onto myself!"

Morena glared at him.

"Don't you dare to even think that. You wouldn't have done this if it wouldn't have been for Mystra. You were trying to impress her yet again, tailing after her to receive mere breadcrumbs instead of the acknowledgement you crave and deserve. She may have fooled you, but not me. I know what the Goddess of Magic really is: a monster."

Gale opened his mouth to object, but his mother cut him off with a brisk flick of the wrist.

"We're not discussing this topic any longer. It doesn't matter who's to blame for your situation and how it came to be, instead, we must think about possible solutions. I'll contact Elminster, Alistair, and my good friend Alea – no, don't make that face, honey – They might be able to help with your... 'inconvenience'."

With a groan, Gale leant his forehead against the table. It was impossible to argue his mother out of her rescue plan.

Morena and her friends fussed about and probed him as if he was some kind of rare magical creature. Gale hated it – and wanted to die of embarrassment.

"I'll ask my scholars for help," Elminster had proclaimed.

"Must you? I'd prefer if this unfortunate situation of mine could stay solely between us," Gale had muttered.

"Sorry, my boy, but this isn't a common affliction," the addressed had retorted. "If you want answers, you need to search far and wide. Usually, you'll find the solution to a problem in the most unexpected places."

Gale had sighed, defeated.

"Fine. I don't have another choice, do I?"

"No," Elminster had answered dryly.

"Splendid," Gale had grumbled.

Unfortunately, all the inspections and discussions led to nothing.

Gale had three options to stay alive: to continue appeasing the swirling mass in his chest by letting it absorb the Weave inside powerful artefacts, to somehow manage expelling it while in the Astral Plane, or to learn how to control said primal fragment of blackest Weave.

At the moment, the first option was the only possible one to achieve.

When Gale woke up, he felt a different kind of malaise than the one the Orb caused him. He fidgeted around and groaned when he pressed his hand against his erection.

It had been a while since the last time he'd had sex. Usually, Mystra favoured astral intimacy over the real deal, and usually, Gale didn't mind. It felt good either way.

But now, Gale craved physical touch. He bit his lip and shook off his underpants. He sighed when he wrapped his hand around his member and started stroking. Gale turned his face into the pillow to muffle his moans of pleasure. He was so desperate for release, he wasn't even able to come up with a fantasy in his head. It was a raw, animalistic chase for climax. Gale's breath hitched and he let out a guttural moan when he spilled his seeds over his hand and onto the bedsheets.

"Gods," he panted, still dizzy from the intensity of his orgasm.

"Don't mind my humble self, Mister Dekarios."

"Tara?!" the addressed squeaked, turning crimson.

The tressym tsked, perched high on the dresser next to the bed. She looked at him amused.

"A lover might help with your pent-up energy, but you just won't go out with any of the suggested individuals your mother and I so graciously pick out for you."

Gale groaned and tried to hide under his blanket.

"I don't need a lover," he muttered. "I'm perfectly fine by myself, and until recently, I could call Mystra herself my lover."

Tara sighed sufferingly.

"Company would do you good. It's not healthy to waste away in this tower."

"I have you."

"Naturally, but I can't be your lover."

Gale made a face at the thought. Bestiality? No thank you, he wasn't that desperate and sick in the head.

"I also have my books," he added.

"Ah, yes. Your 'interesting' collection on the top shelf, far away from prying eyes," Tara teased.

Gale hid deeper under his blanket and felt his cheeks burn.

Erotic novels were a guilty pleasure of his. He liked to indulge in them when feeling especially horny.

"At least, leave the house once in a while. I miss our daily walks," the tressym spoke now softly.

"I can't, I'm ashamed," Gale mumbled. "What will people think of me when they realise I can't perform the simplest spells anymore? It's like I'm... impotent."

He grimaced at his poor choice of words.

"The situation won't get any better if you keep hiding away. Please, Mister Dekarios, Gale, we'll find a solution for your terrible problem, but until then, you must rebound and master your days with your head carried high."

Gale hummed and tried to find the motivation and strength to do so.

For Tara, he told himself. For my dearest friend I can endure the shame and disgrace. And for mum. I've given them little to be proud of recently.

Tara was overjoyed when Gale told her that he'd join her search for rare magical items to feed the Orb.

"How wonderful! It'll almost be like the good old days. Although... You're quickly becoming the most expensive pet in Waterdeep."

Gale laughed, the first time in months, and scratched the tressym's chin. He dressed in his favourite blue-purple robe and the fancy boots he'd gotten hold of on his trip to Mirabar. Comfortable footwear was a must and he indulged in collecting nice boots from all over Faerûn while travelling. Tara hopped onto his shoulder, purring: "Let's go then. I'm looking forward to the sumptuous home-cooked meal you'll make for us when we return."

Smiling, Gale turned his face into her fluffy flank.

Tara had seen it all, his greatest triumphs and greatest failures, but she'd never left his side or doubted him. She was a true friend.

"You look older."

"It's the beard," Gale muttered.

"That's not what I'm talking about," sighed his mother. She stroke his cheek, frowning. "It's your eyes, your skin, your hair..."

"What about my hair?" Gale asked, slightly worried.

"I can see the first streaks of grey."

"No... Tell me you're joking."

"I'm not, but don't worry, it suits you, honey."

"But I'm only twenty-five years old!"

"Better turning grey than bald, don't you think? The Netherese Orb that beats in your chest is taking its toll on you. It doesn't merely feed on the Weave and the magical items, but on you too. If you're not careful, it will absorb all of your life force and you'll die of old age in a few years."

Gale closed his eyes and turned his face away in shame.

"I'm so sorry, mum. I made an ass out of myself."

"You did, but we'll fix it." Morena sighed tiredly, running her fingers through her son's hair. "We'll find a solution for your problem. I won't let you die. You're my everything."

"Am I still?" Gale whispered. "After everything I've done, you still deem me worthy of your love? I can't even cast a simple first-grade spell anymore."

"Oh, honey... I love you for who you are, not what you are," Morena replied. "With or without magic, you'll always be my precious son. I don't need you to be a grand wizard, a prodigy, or Mystra's Chosen. I just want you."

Gale couldn't keep his tears at bay when he fell into his mother's loving arms. So, they stood there, in Gale's living room, surrounded by books, art, and sculptures, the sound of the soughing sea, the screeching seagulls, and the harbour's bell in the background.

"I miss the Weave," he mumbled. "Not because of its powers, but because it feels like I'm missing a part of myself."

Morena stayed quiet for a moment, frowning slightly, then she told him: "Hold out your hands, honey."

Gale did as he was told, stretching his hands out with the palms facing down. His mother placed her hands on top of his.

"Close your eyes and open yourself for the energy around us," Morena instructed him.

"Mum, I'm not an amateur. I know how to conjure the Weave," Gale huffed.

"Will you shut up for once?" his mother scolded him, half-heartedly and he chuckled.

"Apologies."

Morena snorted and lightly smacked his hand before staying still again. Gale closed his eyes, breathed and tried to relax. First, nothing happened, but then, he felt a prickling sensation in his palms. Its intensity got more extreme until the familiar feeling of humming magic was wrapped around his hands. With a gasp, Gale snapped his eyes opened and stared at the blue mass of energy flowing from Morena's hands through his.

"It feels different, doesn't it?" she murmured. "As I told you many times; you don't need Mystra's help to conjure the Weave. It'll take time to master it again, but it isn't impossible."

Stunned, Gale barked a laugh, and with his mother's help, he cast his first simple spell after one and a half years of magic silence. He couldn't hold back the tears of joy.

Gale finally found the courage to face Monty. His childhood friend was relieved to see him still alive, but he was also angry. Ashamed, Gale confessed his foolish mistake to him.

"You idiot! You utter idiot!" Monty yelled before surging forward and kissing him like a starving man. Gale gasped in surprise.

"Monty, I can't... I -"

The addressed looked at him sadly.

"Is it because I'm a man or a tiefling?"

"Neither! Oh, Gods, please don't even consider that! It's me. I just - I can't right now. I'm still - I'm still hurt."

Sympathy showed on Monty's face and he stroke Gale's hand gently as he said: "I see, but believe me when I tell you that I love you with and without your magic. It was you I fell for, not your powers. I love Gale, not the wizard prodigy. And it doesn't matter that you don't love me anymore, my feelings towards you haven't changed."

The addressed huffed a laugh, linked his fingers with Monty's, and lifted their hands up to kiss the red skin that was such a stark contrast to his own.

"Thank you. I'll never forget your kind words." After a pause, he added: "Give me some time. Maybe, our story doesn't have to end here."

"You know we can stay friends even if you don't reciprocate my feelings, right?" spoke the tiefling.

A genuine smile appeared on Gale's face.

"Thank you, you're a true friend."

The wizard, aware of the implication of his next move, leaned towards Monty and place a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips. The tiefling sighed happily, but when he opened his eyes, they were clouded by melancholy. With one last squeeze to his hand, Gale said goodbye and travelled back to Waterdeep. Monty kept sitting on the wooden bench behind Elminster's tower, mourning the light-hearted joy and mischief that had disappeared from his friend's eyes.

[whatacaitastrophe]

Gale x Taph #2 - For Rim-Draws

Song Inspiration: "Sober Up" by AJR ft. Rivers Cuomo

Another One Shot For @rim-draws <3 Thanks for requesting this! I had a great time writing it, and thank you for your donation to my Ko-fi!

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As it turned out, being in a relationship with Taph was not quite so different to not being in a relationship with her– at least so far. The only real difference, Gale had found, was that they bickered a little bit less. That, and Taph allowed him the joy of holding her hand when they sat around the campfire with their companions, but only if he asked. It wasn’t that Gale was frustrated by the way Taph was still so hot-and-cold with him despite acknowledging their feelings for each other, no. He was just deeply confused. Granted, his own relationship history wasn’t exactly healthy by any stretch of the imagination so he didn’t have much to compare to, but even so Gale was fairly certain it was supposed to be…not like this. 

Of all of their companions, Wyll seemed to be the closest to Gale in thinking when it came to romantic relationships and how he viewed them. The two of them had also become fast friends, often joking they were the group’s moral compasses (even if the compass was often ignored), so he felt comfortable opening up to Wyll about his confusion on where his relationship with Taph stood. 

“Mate, I think you just need to talk to her,” Wyll advised one night as they finished their goblets of wine. “I know communication in relationships is not…something you’re used to–”

“That’s certainly a delicate way of putting it.” Gale laughed bitterly. By now, the warlock was well aware of Gale’s sordid history with Mystra, and like everyone else in camp, Wyll agreed that Mystra had only ever been looking out for herself when it came to her relationship with Gale. 

Wyll laughed. “I’m just saying…maybe she isn’t either. You may have to be the one to take the leap.” 

Gale sighed. “Once again, Wyll, I find myself in awe that someone so young could be so wise.”

“I’m not that much younger than you!” Wyll squawked with a laugh. 

“I’m nearly a decade your senior, friend,” Gale reminded him as he stood up. He needed to find Taph. Gale finished the remaining liquid in his goblet and handed the empty vessel to Wyll, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked by. “Thank you, Wyll, for the sage advice. I shall let you know how it goes.” 

Taph was not in her tent, and it was not her turn to take the first watch, so Gale immediately worried. It was late enough that none of them should be wandering alone (except for perhaps Astarion, who needed to wander alone at night to feed), no matter how skilled they were in their various crafts. Gale was about thirty feet from their campsite when he heard the sounds of a lyre coming from the west, and a soft smile bloomed on Gale’s face. He should have known the sorceress snuck off to play her instrument– that seemed to be where Taph felt the most at peace. Though the fact that she snuck off to play was unusual– she was a performer by nature, and playing in front of Gale and the rest of the group was not something that had ever seemed to make her uncomfortable before. Gale’s curiosity had been piqued. 

As Gale drew closer to the sound of the lyre, he also began hearing the sound of Taph’s sweet voice, singing a tune he did not recognize. Was she working on something new? He found her in a clearing with a small lantern illuminating the immediate space surrounding her, though the moon was bright enough that evening that she probably did not need it. Taph looked radiant, bathed in the moonlight. Drow were often striking regardless of the time of day, but Gale had come to learn that they truly were their most beautiful in the darkness, where the lights were low, only illuminated what needed illuminating. In the dim light, it sometimes seemed as though Taph was almost glowing. Gale smiled at the sight of her before announcing himself. “There you are! I was wondering where you’d gone off to.” 

The drow jumped slightly regardless of Gale’s efforts not to startle her. Her mask was on the ground next to her, and it made Gale feel all warm and fuzzy inside when Taph did not immediately reach for her most treasured accessory to throw it back on her face. He’d meant it when he told her that she shouldn’t hide her eyes away from the world. They were beautiful and expressive, and quite honestly that she still felt the need to wear her mask at camp with their friends saddened Gale. It was nice that she trusted him enough to leave it off when they were alone (which, admittedly, hadn’t been very often), but he wished he could somehow give her the confidence to share her beauty with everyone else. 

“Sorry, I’ve been working on something, and I needed some peace and quiet to finish it.” Taph explained her absence, but Gale waved his hand. 

“No apology necessary, dearest, and I completely understand wanting to get away from the madness of camp. It’s gotten quite full now that Halsin, Scratch, and the owlbear cub have all joined us,” Gale replied with a warm smile and a wave of his hand. Gale strode over to the sorceress and sat down beside her. “This is actually rather convenient, as I sought you out in hopes we could talk.” 

Taph immediately looked wary, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “Talk? About what?” 

Gale paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to best approach the subject. He didn’t want to seem too needy, or like he was accusing her of not doing enough to show him she cared. A delicate conversation, to be led by someone who wasn’t always the most delicate in explaining how he felt. Surely this wouldn’t end in disaster at all. “I just wanted to make sure you’re still happy? With us, I mean.”

Taph stared at him in confusion and Gale immediately began regretting even bringing up this conversation at all. Had he completely over thought this? “What I mean to say is that since we established that you and I are in some sort of romantic partnership, not…not much has changed? So I suppose I just wanted to make sure that this is…something you still want?” 

“You’re talking about sex, right? The fact that we haven’t done anything. It bothers you, doesn’t it?” Taph continued to eye him warily, and a horrified look spread across Gale’s face.

“Gods, no, that’s not it at all! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would be honored to lay at your side beneath the stars now that I don’t need to worry about any undue excitement causing me to explode, but that isn’t what this is about,” 

Blush crept across Taph’s face as Gale admitted that he would like to, someday, sleep with her and he instantly regretted ever bringing it up. “I just meant that you don’t seem to be very…interested. In me. Or anything much to do with me beyond sitting next to me at the end of a long day and holding my hand, or walking beside me when we travel. If it’s a matter of what you’re comfortable with, I understand and will respect whatever boundaries you put into place, but I do need you to talk to me. Much as I would like to be, I’m not a mind reader, so I only know how you feel and what you need if you express it.”

Taph stared at Gale as he talked at her. Gale was rambling, but that’s just how his mind worked when he knew he said the wrong thing and he needed to backtrack to fix it. It was all word vomit until he found the right thing to say, and the fact that Ao granted him the gift of verbosity but not the ability to always use that skill correctly was honestly a curse. 

“You know, I came out here to finish a song that I’ve been writing. For you.” Taph admitted with a soft smile on her face, the blush creeping back in. 

“For– for me?” Gale confirmed with surprise, and Taph nodded. 

“You’ve probably noticed I’m not very good at talking about my feelings, but singing about them? I could do that all day. Would you like to hear it?”

The surprised look on Gale’s face did not fade, as nobody had ever given him a gift like this before. For Taph to write him a song…she must really care, he surmised. “I would love to hear it.” 

“Okay, just be warned, I’ve literally just finished it and was practicing, so it might not be very good.” Taph warned him, and Gale shook his head.

“That you wrote me anything at all means I already think it’s wonderful.” Gale reassured her. 

Taph began plucking the strings of her lyre. The melody was soft and lilting and even without words, Gale was already transfixed by the music itself. Then Taph started to sing. The lyrics were their story: how they met, how she didn’t care for him at first, how her feelings for him took her by surprise. These were all points, of course, that Gale already knew just from talking to her (and being there), but hearing in the form of a song made it sound much more romantic. The song continued, and Gale’s heart did a backflip in his chest as Taph sung about wanting him. About kissing him, about feeling his body against hers, about making love under a blanket of stars, just as Gale had mentioned earlier whilst rambling. She sang about the way he looked at her, and how it made her feel safe, and Gale had to stop himself from leaning towards her and kissing her right then and there. 

When the song ended, Taph blushed and averted Gale’s gaze entirely, like she could not believe she’d just bared her soul to someone so fully. She almost looked embarrassed. The song was the most vulnerable he’d ever seen Taph be, and the fact that the sorceress was willing to be so vulnerable with him? Gale just might fall in love with her. “Yeah, so. That’s the song. I hope it helps.” Taph told him awkwardly, and he saw the familiar look in her eyes like she wanted to retreat as quickly as possible. 

“Helps?” Gale said with an incredulous laugh. “Taph, it was wonderful. I am honored to have had such a lovely song written about me. Knowing you feel this way…it certainly makes me feel better.” He reached over to her and took her hand in his gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. 

“Okay, good. I’m glad. I didn’t know how else to tell you without feeling like I wanted to burst into flames and die from embarrassment.” Taph laughed softly.

“What is there to be embarrassed about, sweetheart? You’re human–so to speak– emotions are part of humanity, whether we like it or not,” Gale chuckled. “Look at me?” 

His request was gentle, but he wanted to look into Taph’s eyes as he was as vulnerable with her as she’d just been with him. “For what it’s worth, I feel the same way you do. I want us to have it all. Everything you sang about and more. Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” He smiled at her. “May I be so bold as to ask to kiss you?” 

Taph chewed on her lip for a moment, but a smile was blooming on her face as she nodded. Gale’s heart did another backflip as his eyes lowered to her mouth, and he reached out to cup her face in his free hand. Gale leaned forward, averting his gaze back to her eyes only for a brief moment to give her an opportunity to change her mind. Instead he was met with Taph leaning in, and their mouths connected in a soft, sweet kiss moments later. 

Gale’s heart soared. Kissing Taph was even better than he’d imagined it to be, and now that he’d done it once, he never wanted to stop. This woman had him under her spell completely, and Gale felt like the luckiest man alive.