#i feel like i need a tag for this genre of thirsting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arachine · 1 year

Text

૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა ... i'd follow you anywhere .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡ pairing :: neteyam sully x avatar! reader

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ synopsis :: in which reader uses her new avatar body to finally show neteyam just how much she loves him… + based off of this thirst!

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: 18+ (explicit sexual content, explicit language), minimal angst (?), lots of fluff and banter lol

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters aged up to 20, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, dacryphilia (v tame), corruption

ᥫ᭡ word count :: 2.5k

ᥫ᭡ note :: guys this is what happens when i ask for thirsts!!! i get carried away and never know when to stop ;(( anyway, here, have this while i work on my annual dick analysis for jake & quaritch.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Shh, you’ll see, kitty boy,” you giggled, tightening your grip on his wrist.

Neteyam shakes his head, tongue in cheek. He could never say no to you—not that he wanted to…he always wanted to play with you. He’d follow you into the depths of hell, or whatever the na’vi equivalent of hell was. Yeah, he’d follow you there, he thinks—definitely.

The boy relinquishes all of his motor skills to you, allowing you to drag his body further into the forest. He mirrors all of your agile movements, jumping when you jump, running when you run—and then you come to a halt, turning around quickly to face him. You’re so close—too close, the sudden proximity disrupting his equilibrium.

“Don’t go falling for me now,” you grab his forearm before he can fall, pulling him back up with a wink. He scoffs at this, mumbling something sly under his breath. You were always so quick-witted, with quick reflexes to match, too. To anyone else, this would be annoying, but to him, they were your most admirable traits. It’s what made him fall for you.

“Ha, ha, can you tell me what we are doing all the way out here now?” he raises his hands, gesturing to the clearing that you were now standing in. You smile wildly, pursing your lips together in avoidance. The boy reaches behind you to pull your tail, tickling your sides until you surrender.

“Okay, okay, just s-stop it already,” you belt out, “I wanna show you somethin’…gotta be nice to get it, though.” He retracts his hands, letting them fall slowly to his sides. Just what were you planning?

Grabbing his hand this time, you usher him to follow you with a tilt of your head. You lead him to a tree surrounded by shrubbery, a spot that, up until now, only you were privy to its whereabouts. The perfect place for privacy.

Letting go of his hand, you push him down to sit on the forest floor, with his back resting against the bark of the tree and you nestled between his legs. His pulse quickens. What was so important that you needed to drag him so deep into the forest? In such a secluded place, nonetheless.

“I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a while,” you start, voice so low, just barely above a whisper. His eyes squint in confusion, but he remains silent—listening, as to not scare you from continuing.

“You know, growing up in a shack with grown men…you hear a lot of things,” a silence, “things only men talk about.” Your eyes flitter to his, unmoving.

“like, the things they missed doing on Earth, the girls they miss fucking—and what they’d do to have a woman’s lips wrapped their cocks…” The last bit comes out more hushed, gently kissing the shell of his ears. His tail reacts to you before he can, swishing in jagged movements, exposing his excitement.

“Has anyone ever kissed you down there?” your eyes flit to his groin.

He shakes his head eagerly, “No, I have n-never heard of this…nobody has ever…”

“Can I?” you tilt your head, flashing him your best doe-eyes. It was fun teasing him, a feeling that you’d never grow tired of. From first glance, to first introduction, you’d been bound at the hip since you could talk. Everything he did, you did, and vice versa. If you were feeling sick one day and couldn’t play, then shit, he was too. If you wanted to jump off a cliff one day, he’s jumping with you!

His loyalty to you was unyielding, grounding. And as the years passed, and the two of you transitioned from bright-eyed little kids to gangly, awkward teens on the cusp of adulthood, you started to realize something. That you wanted to be all of his firsts.

Determinedly, you set out to do just that. On his thirteenth birthday, you kissed his cheek. A scintilla of your love, stained onto the expanse of his face that served as a mental reminder that this boy was yours—promised to you, and only you.

Then, three more years passed. The boy with the rounded cheeks and toothy smile, had begun to change. It started out slow, though, then the differences became more gradual.

The first to change was his face. What was once round and doughy, had now become slim and sharp. And then it was his physique. No longer was he the awkward child with gangly limbs, and a head too big for his body (as you liked to put it). No, he was much more…different. And each and every one of these changes, a testament to his inevitable journey into adulthood.

On his sixteenth birthday, you kissed him. Once. But in that one kiss, you poured every ounce of love that you’d collected over the years. Every thought, every wish, every yearn, went right into that kiss—another piece of your heart that you carved just for him. For him to have and hold, to keep safe.

And when it was over, you pulled away with a smile, and a dagger of a tongue dipped in poison, ready to deliver heartbreak.

You’re a man now, you uttered. I wanted to give my best friend his first kiss. And that was it, that was all it was ever going to be—because you were human, then. Still a weak, measly, little human who spent all her time living in a false reality, chasing something (someone) that could never really truly be promised to you. Not until you made the change.

So, you waited. And…waited, and waited, and waited until one day you could meet his eye without having to look up, or for him to drop down. You waited until the day when you’d be recognized as his equal.

Today was that day, on his twentieth birthday. And so you ask again.

“Can I kiss you down here?”

He nods. Once, twice, then stutters out an eager yes. Gently you smooth your palm up and over his knee, the skin of his thighs, and then stop beneath the fabric of his loin cloth. Your fingers trace the area teasingly, and you giggle when his hip juts up from the sensation. So sensitive.

Slowly, you remove the cloth from his body, and take him into your hand. He’s semi-hard and leaking pre—and warm. So, so warm. You bring it up to your cheek, rubbing it against the area before turning your head to leave a zephyr-light kiss on his shaft. You kiss it once, then twice, then kiss it again for every year you spent not kissing him.

“What are you doing?” he laughs, “Come on, it tick—hahhh.” A whine vacates from his throat upon you licking a long stripe from the base of his shaft, to the tip of his head. Naturally, his hands find solace atop of your head.

“So dramatic, I didn’t even do anything yet.” This time, you take him into your mouth, forcing him to watch you as more and more of his length disappears into the cavern of your mouth.

Technically, you’d never done this before (save for the few times you practiced on fruit) so it was your first time, just as much as it was his. But he didn’t have to know that. You wanted to appear like you knew what you were doing, or at the very least, like you’d done this before. You try to remember all the things you’ve heard over the years.

1) Girls who used teeth were bad, but girls who flattened their tongues and relaxed their throats were good.

2) Girls who didn’t use spit sucked, but girls who got really messy were good fucks.

3) Girls who didn’t play with balls were lazy, but girls who did knew how to have fun.

So, you use an amalgamation of all of the tips that you garnered. You flatten your tongue, ease your throat so that you can take him farther, until the head of his cock hits your uvula.

“Shhit, mmf,” he breathes, attempting to stifle a moan by digging a hand into the forest soil. Immediately, you grab his hand and place it back onto your head, pulling off of him with a wet pop.

“Keep ‘em here,” your hand fists his length, “want you to use me. Wanna make you feel good, ‘kay?” His dick twitches in your hold, because fuck, the sight before him is almost too much for him to handle.

You, before him on your knees, with your dainty hand wrapped around him, and your face wet with drool. And you want him to what? Use you? To make him feel…good? God, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think this was Eywa playing tricks on his mind. Giving him a taste of euphoria before yanking him back to reality.

He has half a mind to pinch himself, and half mind to poke you, because there’s just no way this is real. Bullshit. But then you’re sinking back down onto him, and swirling your tongue around his head, and using your hands to massage his balls, and—

“Fuck,” his hands reflexively push you down onto his length. His body shivers when the tip of your nose makes contact with his pelvis. You’re so warm, and wet, so inviting, he can’t seem to let go. He keeps you there until you physically can’t fathom it, and pull off of him in search of air.

“That felt…nice,” he says bashfully, “can you do that again?” You nod eagerly, accumulating a generous amount of spit in your mouth to use as a salve, lathering it up and down the length of him before he guides you back to his awaiting cock.

He watches intently as your lips stretch to accommodate him again. Now his hands, which are tangled in your tresses, are moving more confidently. They push and pull you, maneuvering your head gently and at a steady pace, then gradually, they increase their speed.

Neteyam does this a few times and then allows you to take the reins. When you’re ready, you take a deep inhale through your nose, and push yourself down until you feel the weight of him hit the back of your throat. The first time was a bit easier, mostly because your jaw wasn’t as fatigued as it was now, but you persevere anyway.

Inhale, exhale. A mantra that you have to repeat to yourself to distract you from the urge to gag. You try your best to keep your jaw relaxed and your throat open by digging your nails into the fat of his thighs.

When you look up at him, there’s an elated expression molded onto his face. His head is thrown back against the tree, hair strewn about with tendrils sticking to his forehead, and his eyes are shut closed.

He looks…so beautiful. That’s when you feel a tear ribbon down your face and onto his thigh. You’re unsure if it’s because of the air steadily leaving your brain, or if it’s because of how pretty he looks right now—all sweaty, slick with your drool.

You settle on the former. It had to be the air. Eventually, your lungs give out and you have to take a breather. The sudden loss of warmth forces his eyes open, and then they fall on your face. Your eyes. Doe-eyed and clouded. Cheeks stained with tears.

“Pretty.” Is all he says, bringing up a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You work him the rest of the way with the iota of energy you have left, concentrating on the head of his cock while your hand fists him to climax.

His abs begin to tremble and flex when you switch between hollowing your cheeks and massaging his balls. A visual indication that he was close to coming.

“Waitwaitwait, it feels like,” he’s panicked, trying to push you away. You dodge his attempts to remove you and continue your assault, only this time, you gently apply pressure to his perineum. Unceremoniously, he pushes your head down to the hilt and you moan around him from the force.

The vibrations from your throat makes his head feel all fuzzy. He’s so close, on the precipice of euphoria. And your hands—that are still situated on his thighs—rub the expanse of them reassuringly, coaxing him to finish right on your tongue.

With a final lazy piston, he comes into your mouth, and the warm, salty seed that you’d been anticipating leaks down the column on your throat. Moans tumble from his lips, along with hushed expletives, and he’s shaking. The cords of muscle beneath your palm tense and flex before regressing to their natural, relaxed state.

You remove your mouth promptly and rise to your haunches, making sure that his eyes are locked onto yours as you stick out your tongue to show him his seed.

“No, do not swallow that, I didn’t mea—“ Disobeying his wishes, you do it anyway. Swallowing it all all down and making it a point that you did so by sticking your tongue out again. His tail flicks in response, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Why did you do that? It’s dirty,” he caresses your cheek, wiping away the leftover spent from your mouth.

“‘Cause I wanted to…” You counter. “And it’s not dirty, you tasted good.”

Neteyam rolls his eyes at this, like him tasting good is too hard for him to believe.

“Don’t believe me? Here, try it.” And then you give him the gift that you had gifted to him all those years ago. A kiss. It’s equal parts sweet and needy, different from the first time it happened, but that’s because it was supposed to be. You wanted him to know exactly what you meant. No more waiting. No more pining.

When you draw back, breathless and dizzy, he’s still stuck in a stupor. Lips jutted out and waiting for you to kiss him again. Again, again, again. He opens his eyes, and sees you staring back at him.

“See, I told yo—“ He takes a fist full of your hair and connects his lips to yours. This is him returning the gift. Letting you know that he got the message, loud and clear, and that it was reciprocated. Every ounce of love that flows through his heart is poured into your own; he hopes you can feel it.

“I told you not to fall for me,” you whisper, looking up at him with an avian flutter of your lashes. Neteyam’s hands find solace on the sides of your cheeks, and then he speaks.

“I think I fell for you a long time ago.” Warmth washes over you, his sweet words and strong hands overriding all of your cognitive functions. Specifically, the one in charge of keeping you calm and collected.

“Good, ‘cause I think you’re gonna fall for me a lot harder when you see what I have planned for you later.”

“What’s later?”

“Shh, what fun would it be if I told the birthday boy the surprise?” You grin cheekily, unaware of the way your tail swishes from side to side as you say it. Neteyam knows you’re up to no good, but he doesn’t care. He’d follow you anywhere, after all.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam smut #neteyam sully smut #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x reader smut #avatar x reader smut #avatar x reader #atwow smut #avatar the way of water smut

5K notes · View notes

maplesyrupsainz · 6 months

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙ur my northern star | CL16˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: charles leclerc x singer y/n reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship, relationship on the rocks

warnings: fluff!! mention of violence aka punching 👊 thts all. this is part 2 of coz i cant sleep in hotel rooms <3

summary: in which they do all they can to try to mend the broken parts in their relationship

a/n: did anyone even ask for a part 2 be real but i couldn't leave it like i did so i hope u like it regardless 😭 sorry to lando norris for making him my enemy but also am i sorry

song

fc: holly humberstone

my masterlist

part 1!!!

instagram ->

f1updates

liked by ynupdates, user1, and 2,046 others

f1updates charles leclerc spotted out recently with friends following crash in the monaco grand prix and his alleged breakup with y/n y/l/n.

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 739 comments

user1 i miss y/n

user2 why are we in charlesy/n limbo rn

user3 fr i jus need to know what's going on

user4 he's better without her imo

charles_leclerc posted a story

liked by pierregasly, lilymhe, and 21,046 others

lilymhe sending u all my love

charles_leclerc thank you lily

lilymhe have you spoken to y/n?

charles_leclerc i will see her when im back in monaco, i believe she is waiting for me before returning to the uk

lilymhe ❤️❤️

yourusername

liked by landonorris, arthur_leclerc, and 47,024 others

yourusername so dont drive away .. u dont know how much i need u

view all 2,839 comments

landonorris meow

yourusername strange boy

landonorris :)

user5 he is never beating the norizz accusations

user6 i miss u y/n

yourusername miss you all, working on some stuff :)

user7 😭 i jus know that any new y/n music is going to break my heart

arthur_leclerc maman asked are you coming to dinner tonight

yourusername well of course

user8 OH???

user9 charles probably isnt there isnt he in paris this weekend with pierre??

user10 THE CAPTION??!

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, and 428,020 others

charles_leclerc 🇫🇷🥖🥐☕️❤️

view all 5,934 comments

user11 so nice to see charles doing well 🥹

pierregasly eiffel for u

charles_leclerc nice one

user12 we miss you charles ❤️

user13 i need him & y/n back together 😭

user14 leave him alone on his own post fr

user13 doubt he's reading all the comments 👍

f1wagupdates

liked by landonorris, user11, and 1,034 others

f1wagupdates lando norris and y/n y/l/n seen out together in monaco today following y/n's breakup rumours from charles leclerc.

tagged: landonorris, yourusername

view all 658 comments

user14 grid bunnyy

user15 can a girl not have friends now

user16 scummy after leaving the paddock after charles' crash

pierregasly no way lol

user17 pierre??

user18 pierre's comment lolll everyone knows lando has been thirsting for y/n since before her & charles got together

user19 embarrassing like she does not want you bro

landonorris

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 398,727 others

landonorris celebrating for celebrating's sake

tagged: yourusername

view all 4,020 comments

user18 urmm?

yourusername such a fun night out i rly needed some fun with friends <3!!

liked by charles_leclerc

pierregasly hahah delete this.

arthur_leclerc for real

landonorris ?

yourusername private texts exist

pierregasly sorry y/n/n

user19 omg

user20 are they all arguing or is it a joke hahah

post deleted by landonorris

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 5,045 others

f1wagupdates charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n seen tonight in monaco sharing a tender embrace outside a restaurant following a meal together. sources say it seemed like an emotional conversation and are not sure of the outcome. we are sending all of our love to charles and y/n at this time!

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

view all 2,894 comments

user28 OH MY GOD MY PARENTS

user29 omg i feel so awful for them going thru whatever this is in the public eye😭

user30 my poor y/n/n

user31 she's been fine frolicking with lando lol

user32 i think if charles is ok with her then nothing happened lol.

user33 my favourite f1 couple of all time

user34 she's the best wag fr

twitter ->

messages ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates

liked by lilymhe, pierregasly, and 8,035 others

f1wagupdates sources claim they caught charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n out in monaco tonight kissing! alleged rumours due to images not being clear enough to prove identities but we have our fingers crossed for the couple

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

view all 2,594 comments

user42 omg i hope this is real

user43 my babies🥹🥹🥹

user44 my parents🥹🥹🥹

user45 hope this is fake lol im tired of her

user46 lol why?? she hasnt even done anything

user47 she cheated on charles

user48 SINCE WHEN???

user49 some of u need to keep y/n's name out ur mouth

yourusername

liked by yourbff, pierregasly, and 44,034 others

yourusername my lifelines .. london is lonely so lonely without uuu

tagged: yourbff, lilymhe

view all 2,473 comments

user50 i thought she was in monaco

user51 i think she is it's jus a reference to one of her songs

yourbff i love you & i am so proud of u

yourusername thank u my sweet girl!

lilymhe u own my heart

yourusername and im never giving it back

user52 i love y/n & lily's friendship ❤️

user53 the best f1 wags of all time

user54 omg she's just a girl like us guys

user55 no fr she is so cottagecore cosy girl

twitter ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, lilymhe, and 4,935 others

yourbff i love you

yourusername i love you more

lilymhe I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU GUYS

yourusername me too come over ASAP

lilymhe posted a story

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 8,304 others

yourbff posted a story

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and 827 others

charles_leclerc posted a story

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 78,903 others

yourusername ❤️

landonorris can we talk soon?

charles_leclerc fuck off lando you've done enough

messages ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

lilymhe

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 98,934 others

lilymhe beautiful night for a beautiful girl

tagged: yourbff, charles_leclerc, yourusername

view all 5,294 comments

user59 WTF CHARLES AND Y/N KISSING

charles_leclerc thanks lily

yourusername i giggled

lilymhe (re-)hard launching you guys cause u wont do it urselves

user60 omg my parents made it

user61 the way i love these ppl LOL

user62 my parasocial relationship with someone else's relationship is insane

alex_albon beautiful is one word for it

yourbff for the record i do not feel beautiful today

alex_albon you dont look it either

lilymhe take that back you evil boy

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 87,483 others

yourusername my new song "into your room" is out now & available on all streaming platforms! this is the second single from my upcoming debut album thank u so much for all of the support i couldn't do any of this without u all ! live show announcements next i think?;)

view all 6,825 comments

user67 OMG AN ALBUM

lilymhe SO proud of u cant wait till i can watch u live on ur own tour🥹

liked by yourusername

user68 so glad i discovered u y/n ur so talented

user69 LIVE SHOWS PLZ PLZ❤️

user70 i will follow u ur my northern star😭

user71 throwing stones at ur window to get u to notice me😭

charles_leclerc ❤️

liked by yourusername

user72 without u my soul is eternally doomed ur the centre of this universe my sorry ass revolves around you😭

user73 the way charlesy/n gave us the best songs

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 240,024 others

charles_leclerc the rumours are not true

view all 87,994 comments

yourusername i love you

charles_leclerc i love you and that's the only rumour that will ever be true

user74 MY PARENTS ARE BACK FOR GOOD

user75 never been so happy in my life

pierregasly thank god

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername

lilymhe i knew u guys would make it <3

landonorris happy for u both

*comment deleted by charles_leclerc*

THE END ❤️

792 notes · View notes

nessinborderland · 1 year

Text

V-E-N-U-S (01)

Pairing: Rafe x plus size!Reader

Genre: smut, dark-ish fic

Word Count: 6 ,7k

Warnings ⚠️ Mildly Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, more like Enemies to Enemies That Fuck tbh, Rafe Cameron Being an Asshole, mentions of bullying, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Rough Sex, Mentions of death of a parent, Drinking, Drug Use, Rafe needs therapy asap, fatphobia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: The nickname he had given you in 8th grade was supposed to be ironic. In Rafe’s defense, he used to be a pretty stupid and cruel fourteen-year-old, as most kids that age are. So yeah, nicknaming the fat and nerdy chick Venus – like the goddess of sex and beauty – had been pretty hilarious in young Rafe's opinion.

What he would've never guessed was how much that name would fit you now as a grown woman.

Notes: this is - hopefully - the first of more OBX fics written by yours truly. A joy to write really because Rafe/Drew are turning me into a mad woman and I desperately needed something to quench the thirst. So here, enjoy 💖

AO3 | Masterlist

Rafe was pretty sure he was about to do something he was going to regret. That, or go insane with desire. He could feel something sizzling in his chest the longer he stared at you, hyper-aware of the attention you were attracting. Attention that did not come from him and him alone.

"Wow," Kelce whistled beside him, pulling him out of his thoughts, "Venus looking thick as hell, man, look at that ass."

Rafe had been looking. Hard not to, when the red bikini you were wearing hugged your body like a second skin, showing off your curves in ways that made him wonder how nice it would feel to trace your soft-looking skin with his palms.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the only one with his eyes on you.

He gulped and took another sip of his beer – jaw clenching as he tried to not let his temper get the best of him over Kelce’s words. He couldn’t blame the other guy for staring when you looked that good, but goddamit, did Rafe feel the urge to punch him and every other ogler that dared to eye-fuck you.

His eyes never left your figure as you danced by the pool with the confidence of a young woman that had outgrown her teenage insecurities, a faint smile on your lips as you swayed your hips to the beat of the Latino song playing.

It was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, and – if you had been anyone else – he wouldn't have hesitated to approach you and charm you into his bed.

But he knew it would never work. Not on you.

It was the worst-kept secret that you disliked Rafe Cameron. No, not dislike; you hated his guts; you couldn’t even stand the mere sight of him, a scowl twisting your features every time you were forced to interact with him at the country club where you waited tables. He couldn’t really blame you for that though; not after the things he had done and said to you in high school.

Even Rafe himself was aware of how much of a nasty teenager he used to be; especially to you.

You just so happened to be his favorite plaything. Why, he had no idea, but young Rafe lived for the moments where you would avoid him like the plague during recess, just so he could hunt you down to bully you in the meanest way he could think of.

You had a crush on someone, and he happened to find out? He made sure to personally break your heart. You tried to develop a friendship? There he was to break it even before it started. You dared to tell on him to a teacher? He would harass you at your own home and bombard your phone with nasty texts until you dropped it.

He was king and you were his favorite court jester.

Not that you didn't put up a fight.

More than once you had punched and screamed at him, tears in your eyes as you pinned him down under your fiery gaze. He loved it. In a way, he wondered if that was what made him sink his claws into you in the first place. You scratched that urge in him for confrontation, for a good fight.

He still remembered that altercation between you that had turned into a slapping contest in the hallways, everyone around you urging you on until a teacher came to stop it. He could still feel the sting in his cheek, remember the way your hard gaze never left his even when his palm met your skin. That was one of the reasons why he couldn't stop bullying you, even when that inevitably got him in trouble.

Rafe knew that he used to be your worst nightmare, and, at the time, he hadn’t cared how it make you feel. Looking back, he regretted it.

He really had no idea how he had once thought of you as ugly. If he was being honest with himself, had he ever? Or had he just been a horny teenager with no idea of what to do with his feelings toward the ostracized fat girl? He couldn’t be sure. To be fair, you had been awkward in high school, always dressed in baggy clothes and worn-out shoes, with your glasses at the tip of your nose, which was almost always stuck in the pages of some thick fantasy novel.

But now? The only thing he could say was that you had finally learned how to dress and flaunt every piece of your body in the best way possible.

You had the body of a fucking goddess, an hourglass figure he could get lost in, all curves and wide hips and tits that he could bet even his large hands weren’t big enough to contain. More than once he had imagined your thick thighs wrapped around his hips as he thrust into you, your soft body pressed against his.

Ironically enough, you reminded him of the artwork ‘Venus and Adonis’, which he had seen during a visit to the Met as a kid.

But it wasn’t just your body that made his dick twitch with desire.

Your eyes still had that fire from when you were kids, and your gaze could smolder him on the spot if he locked eyes with you for too long. Your lips alone were enough to make him fantasize about you on your knees with your mouth stuffed with his cock, moaning around him as he came down your throat.

Fuck, did he want you. He was getting hard just imagining all the ways he could bend you over and fuck you until you were an incoherent mess.

A hand on his shoulder followed by his name snapped him out of his thoughts, and he changed his focus to the petite redhead staring up at him with a coy smile on her face.

“Hey, Rafe.”

“Hey, Amber, what’s up?” he greeted distractingly before redirecting his gaze back to you.

His brow furrowed as he noticed a guy approach you and start to dance right behind you, a hand going on your hip as he said something in your ear. Rafe could almost hear his jaw unclench as he saw you shake your head and bat the dude’s hand away, successfully making him leave you alone after that.

“What?” he asked, focusing again on the redhead that had said something to him.

“Was wondering if you have some of the… you know…” she shrugged and leaned against him before whispering, “The white stuff.”

“Got money to pay for it?” he asked straight, taking another sip of his beer as his gaze involuntary moved back to you, still dancing by the pool and thankfully on your own.

“No,” said Amber, her hand tracing patterns on his chest, “but I’m sure we can get to some kind of agreement…”

Rafe scoffed, her double meaning clear to him. It was not the first time she offered him a fuck or a blowjob in exchange for some grams of coke, and it wouldn’t be the last. Hell, any other night and he wouldn’t have hesitated to lock himself with her in the nearest room and let her ride his dick until he came.

But not tonight. She was not who he wanted.

“Sorry, Amber, no money no coke. That shit’s expensive.”

“Oh, c’mon, Rafe–”

“Just fuck off, will you?” he snapped, shaking her hand off of him. “Not in the mood tonight.”

He heard her gasp and curse at him before storming out, but he couldn’t care less if he had offended her.

Right now, you were walking towards him.

He took another gulp of his beer as he tried to act nonchalant; the last thing he needed was for you to notice his constant stare.

But then it happened. Just as you passed by him, so close he could see the beauty marks on your neck, you looked up at him and your lips twitched before you calmy broke eye contact and walked inside the house.

Rafe took a deep breath as he considered following you. You were trying to drive him insane on purpose, it was the only explanation. Why, though? That was a question he was dying to know the answer to. It didn’t even make sense, given your history.

But things had been… off for a while now. He hadn’t even thought much about it until you had smiled at him during one of your shifts at the country club, gaze bearing into his as you refilled his glass. You never smiled at him. Never. And you had definitely never looked at him with anything other than annoyance and contempt in your eyes. That look you had sent him though (so similar to the look you sent him just now), whatever it meant – and he was sure it meant something – that shifted something in him.

After that, it was like he was seeing you everywhere.

He was at the country club; there you were, catching his eye as you served drinks and took orders. He was at the beach with his friends; oh, there you were hanging around your pogue cousin and his pogue friends. But seeing you at a party? A party thrown by kooks, of all people? That was when he started paying attention.

Fuck it, he whispered to himself before downing the rest of his beer.

His feet were dragging him inside the house before he could register the decision to follow you, and Rafe passed by the other partygoers as he looked around for you. He ended up finding you in the kitchen, leaning against the marble counter as you sipped on a glass of water and checked your phone.

He hesitated for a second by the threshold, unsure of what to say, but it didn’t last when you finally noticed him, brows raising as he approached you with a smirk.

You were going to fucking end him.

“V-E-N-U-S,” he spelled as a way of greeting, “long time no see.”

“R-A-F-E,” you imitated in a mocking tone, looking at him with a raised brow. “You know your friends are doing coke in the living room, right? Not here.”

Your expression – together with the mocking movement of you wiping your nose – wiped the smirk off his face, making him bite the inside of his cheek as he tried not to let his temper get the better of him. He wasn’t expecting a conversation with you to go smoothly, but he wasn’t expecting such clear animosity.

He let out a fake laugh and tilted his head to the side as he took a step further into your personal space, suddenly wanting to make you as uncomfortable as you were making him.

“Ha ha ha, aren’t you hilarious. Nah, I was just wondering what a pogue like you does at a party like this…” he said, bite clear in his tone. “Your cousin doesn’t let you hang out with him and his loser friends anymore, is that it?”

Rafe grinned at the glint of growing fury in your eyes.

Let it all out, baby.

“Not that is any of your business, but this pogue is a big girl,” you said with a fake smile, hands on your waist as you stared up at him. “I can go to whatever party I want and, also, I’m not always around John B.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip as he looked down at your tits, “you’re a big girl, all right.”

Your eyes grew wide at his words, and you scoffed before crossing your arms over your chest, only giving him a bigger eyeful of your breasts. Fuck, he had to get his mouth on those.

“Fat jokes, Rafe? Really?” you said, raising a brow as he sent you a sneer. “How pubescent of you. You really haven’t changed, huh? Just the same mean rich kid.”

“Oh, c’mon Venus, are you still upset over high school? We’re adults now, can’t we put that shit behind us?” He offered you his hand in a clear peace offering and you scoffed, looking down at it like it had personally offended you. “Look, I’m sorry okay, for everything. Can you forgive me?”

He actually meant it, as odd as it was; especially if he got something else out of it. Rafe would apologize a thousand times if it assured him he would get a taste of you.

“Hmm...” you patted your lower lip in pretend contemplation, and Rafe had to control himself not to replace your finger with his. “Let’s see… besides all the things you said and did to me when we were teenagers – which, I confess, I’m still not over – you have tried to hurt my cousin one too many times for me to even consider forgiving you so… how about – no.”

Rafe dropped his hand with a sigh and an eye roll.

“Really mature of you.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you’re one to talk,” you scoffed as you purposely bumped against his side as you walked past him in direction of the sink to refill your glass. “Leave me alone and stop being a fucking creep, I know you and your friends have been staring at my ass all night.”

Rafe didn’t mean for the next words to leave his lips.

“Then maybe stop fucking walking around like you want me to spank it.”

A few seconds went by where neither of you said a word, your back still turned to him as you refilled your glass. He heard as you turned the faucet off, another moment passing before you slowly turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“What did you say?”

“What, is that not what you want when you lean over right in front of me at the country club?”

You snorted before taking a sip of your water and spilling the rest in the sink, setting the now-empty glass on the counter before sending him a very familiar look of disdain.

“You’re honest to god disgusting.”

“Okay, listen…” He took a deep breath as he chose the right words, seeing his efforts to get on your good side going down the drain. “I know that you hate me given our history, but–”

“Whatever you’re gonna say – don’t,” you stated, pushing him aside as you left the kitchen.

Rafe watched with mouth agape, brows furrowing and hands closing to fists as you pushed him aside and left the kitchen.

“You know what? Fucking fine!” he snapped at your back as he controlled himself not to go after you. “Be a bitch about it If you want, why do I care!”

Fuck you for being such a stuck-up and disrespectful bitch. No piece of ass was worth the way you backtalked. Screw apologizing, and screw you. You should be thankful he even looked at you in any way that wasn’t revulsion.

With a frustrated slap against the countertop and a growing need to punch someone, Rafe left the kitchen after you, set on making you regret your attitude by the end of the night.

«»«»«»«»«»

“Hey, bro, you all right?” Topper asked from his seat next to Rafe.

“Yeah, why?” the blond answered as he took a drag of the cigarette in between his fingers.

The party was still ongoing, with people dancing and getting drunker by the hour, including Rafe. His temper had subsided somewhat after another beer and some lines of coke, but the cogs in his brain were still turning as he concocted a plan that would make you swallow your words (and something else, if he was lucky).

He still hadn’t been able to stop himself from staring at you, but drinking was helping him not give a shit about it. He could look at whatever and whomever he pleased, and it was no one’s business – including yours. If you didn’t like it, you were more than welcome to leave his vicinity.

Rafe knew you knew he was watching you. You glanced at him from time to time, never giving him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm under his gaze. That was making his temper rise but, more than that, was seeing you sitting by the pool with some guy chatting you up (with his hand dangerously close to your thigh, he couldn’t help but note with a tick of his jaw).

“Just noticed you’ve been… distracted all night.”

“And? That a problem?”

“Not at all…” Topper answered nonchalantly, pausing for a moment before adding, “Venus looks pretty hot, doesn’t she?”

That made Rafe break his intense stare on you to focus on Topper, the other blond raising his hands at the confrontation in his eyes.

“Wow, man, easy,” he chuckled. “Can’t blame you for staring at her all night.”

“I haven’t been staring at her all night.”

“Sure, you haven’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rafe asked, starting to get particularly annoyed by the tone in his friend’s voice. “Just say whatever you wanna say, Topper.”

“Chill, bro, just noticed you seem pretty interested in her, that’s all,” he explained with a nod in your direction. “You guys made amends or something?”

“Nah, she still hates my guts and she’s still a major bitch.”

“Well, can’t blame her…”

“You’re one to talk, Top. As far as I remember, you were there too.”

“Yeah, but I’ve actually apologized for it like ages ago. She has been pretty friendly lately, that’s why I asked. Plus,” Topper paused to take a sip of his drink, “she has been staring at you a lot too.”

Rafe had nothing to say to that, just grunting in acknowledgment as he finished his beer in one swift gulp before standing up and stretching his arms above his head, sighing as his joints popped.

“Gonna take a leak, be right back.”

This time, he didn’t go back to his friends. No, he wanted to look at you closer, make sure you knew he wasn’t one to be played with. You weren’t kids anymore, but he could still make your life hell if he felt like it. If you wanted to be a bitch, then he would be a bitch back.

And that’s why he sat right beside you by the pool, so close he noticed you flinching when he sat down and his hip bumped yours, his foot also lightly touching yours as he submerged his legs in the heated pool water. You gave him no reaction besides that, your tone of voice unchanged as you kept talking and laughing as if he wasn’t even there.

“I actually don’t have the game, but I love watching playthroughs on Youtube,” he heard you say in an enthusiastic tone. “Would love to play it someday though, I have the books and they’re pretty great.”

Rafe leaned back on his hand and watched you both, a new cigarette in between his lips, chuckling as he noticed the little shimmy you did as you tried to move as far away from him as you could without sitting on the other guy’s lap.

“No way you haven’t played them!” the dude exclaimed, leaning closer to you. “I have them all on PS5. You know what, why don’t you come by my house someday, we can play together.”

“I would–”

Rafe snorted, followed by a laugh as you stopped whatever you were going to say. He tried to just sit there and breathe down your neck. He really did. But he couldn’t stand listening to that fucking guy anymore.

“Of for fuck’s sake, dude, will you shut the fuck up with that nerdy shit?”

He watched as both you and your friend finally shut up, the easy smile on your face being replaced by a scowl as you turned to him, mouth open to no doubt tell him to go fuck himself.

“Rafe, c’mon man, what’s your problem?”

Ryan. Or was it Brian? Rafe didn’t care what the dude’s name was, but he was pretty close to just giving it a go and trying to drown the guy for even daring to talk back at him. His dad was some distinguished surgeon or some shit, so Rafe knew that if he got into a fight with him consequences would inevitably come in the form of Ward, but honestly? He couldn’t care less right now.

“Me?” he asked in mock surprise, pointing at himself with a scoff before throwing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “Oh, I got no problem. But I would really appreciate it if you would just fuck off so I could talk with my girl here. You know, I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to fuck her right anyway. She’s, well, she’s not a small girl and I don’t see a lot of muscle on you so–”

Your elbow hitting his side was enough for him to let you go with a huff. Rafe just stared as you stood up in a hurry, the eyes of the people that had noticed the altercation following you as you stormed off.

He watched you go, content with himself, eyes darkening as he focused on the other guy again.

“Lucky for you,” he started, threat clear in his voice as he stood up, “I got more important shit to do right now.”

With that, he stormed off after you.

He found you by the front lawn, where you now stood in a pair of shorts and a fine jacket, your phone in hand as you no doubt called someone to come get you. Rafe didn’t even hesitate before snatching the phone from your hand, putting it against his own ear as the familiar voice of John B called your name.

“Yeah, sorry, she’s busy right now,” he said, not waiting to hear the response as he disconnected the call.

“Hey, are you fucking insane?” you exclaimed as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Nah, just drunk,” Rafe laughed as he held the phone above his head and out of your reach, watching you jump and press yourself against him in your sad attempts at getting the device back.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you said with a swat at his chest before taking a step back and extending him your hand. “Give me back my phone, you asshole!”

“What’s in it for me?” he dared with a smirk.

“Not getting kicked in the dick, for starters,” you replied, still demanding your phone. “Also, can you tell me why the fuck did you act like a complete idiot back there? First, you insult me, then you keep staring at me like some perv, and now you just tried to… what, exactly? Embarrass me in front of everyone by causing a scene?”

“You should thank me, that dude had bad intentions.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause your intentions towards me are so pure.”

He paused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not some naïve little girl, Rafe. What, think I wouldn’t know why you’ve been staring at me like I’m the last cookie in the jar?”

“Okay, listen, whatever you think you saw–”

“What, embarrassed to admit you wanna fuck the fat girl?”

“Be careful, Venus,” he warned, eyes slanting as he took a step towards you. “Sometimes words backfire.”

“Oh, so you don’t want to fuck me?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to?”

You did nothing but stare into each other’s eyes for what to Rafe felt like an eternity. He could see the fire in your gaze, feel the desire burning inside him as his dick hardened under his shorts at the sight of your chest right in his face and your lips so close to his. All he had to do was to grab you by the back of your neck and press his lips against yours. Just a simple move and he would know what your lips tasted like.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me even if I let you,” you broke the spell, fingers touching his chest as you pushed him away, challenge in your eyes.

A moment passed. Then Rafe smirked.

“Bet.”

You shrieked as he picked you up and over his shoulder, and he huffed out a laugh as you screamed his name and thrashed against his hold. Sure, you were heavier than any other girl he had done this to, but you were nothing he couldn’t handle. With a slap to your ass and a hand on your shorts to stabilize you, he returned inside the house like a man who had just hunted down the big prize.

He ignored your screams of his name and your fists against his back, barely noticing everyone’s eyes on him as he took the stairs one by one.

He opened an unlocked door, commanding the half-naked couple in there to leave before throwing you on the bed without ceremony.

“Oh, I’m gonna make you regret this!” you shouted as he locked the door. “You can bet I’m gonna spit on every single one of your drinks from now–”

He shut you up by cradling your face and pulling you up into a deep kiss, tongue swiftly passing by your parted lips as you weakly tried to push him off. A bite on his tongue made him grunt and pull away, only to see you staring at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest, a small stain of his blood on your lips.

“I couldn’t care less if you spit in my drinks,” he said as his thumb grazed your lip to collect his blood before pushing it in against your tongue. “Now be a good girl and suck on it.”

He couldn’t say he was surprised when you bit him instead, pushing him away as you crawled further to the other side of the bed, a look of unease and want mixing in your heated gaze.

That look was enough for him to decide how this night was going to go.

“Touch me again and I’ll bite your dick off.”

“Do you imagine my dick in your mouth that often?”

“Ugh, you’re such a pig!”

Rafe took off his shirt in one swift move, throwing it somewhere in the room before getting on his hands and knees on the mattress, eyes never leaving yours as he crawled closer.

“I can be worse if you let me.”

“Rafe–”

“What?” he asked as he successfully trapped you under his frame, lips brushing against your neck as he whispered in your ear. “Is the big bad girl scared?”

One of his hands found its way to one of your tits, palming the soft mound over your bikini. His dick jolted as you let out a soft moan, and he laughed at how well everything was going. He never thought of you as the kind of girl that would just lay there while he, Rafe Cameron of all people, touched you like this. If he knew this, he would’ve had his way with you years ago.

Years ago. He almost wanted to hit himself from how stupid younger Rafe had been.

He took your mouth in his, smiling into the kiss as you kissed him back, hands on his shoulders pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. Rafe took that opportunity to get himself comfortable in between your thighs, moaning as his erection grazed against your core.

He had to get you naked.

“No, Rafe, we can’t… we should stop,” you mumbled against his lips.

But the blond didn’t stop kissing you, going from your lips to sucking at the skin of your neck as his hand wandered past the waistline of your shorts. You smelled so fucking good, and your skin was so damn soft he wanted nothing more than press himself against you as he fucked you hard and deep.

“Give me a good reason to,” he drawled in your ear as his fingers found your hot core.

You gasped as he pressed against you, and he couldn’t help but notice how your nails gripped his shoulders and your back arched at his ministrations. He rolled his hips against yours, smiling at your sudden lack of words. You wanted this as much as he did, no point in hiding that from him now. Not when he could feel how wet you were under the fabric of your bikini, not when your thighs shook, and your chest heaved like you couldn’t wait to have him inside you.

In one swift move, he sat back with his legs folded under him, pulling you with him in the process. You gasped as he sat you in his lap, legs on either side of his hips.

Whatever you were about to say got lost when he kissed you with the ferocity of a man that wasn’t about to let anything stop him from getting what he wanted. Even if that someone was you. He was going to fuck you tonight; of that he was sure.

“Be a good girl for me and relax,” he said as he slid the straps of your bikini down your shoulders, finally exposing your breasts.

Rafe nearly groaned as he finally got sight of them, big and soft and warm under his palm. He wasted no time in popping a nipple into his mouth, moaning as the bud hardened under his tongue. You yelped and put your arms around his head, caging him against your chest as you arched it against his face.

Good, he thought with a nib to your flesh, I could suck on these for days.

The hand that wasn’t busy kneading your other breast curled around your waist, keeping you close to his body as you swayed in his hold, your soft moans filling his ears.

“Do you have any idea of what you’ve been doing to me?” he asked as he grazed his lips and tongue over both of your tits, hands going down your body to palm your ass over your shorts. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane...”

You didn’t bother acknowledging his words besides a soft hum. He glanced up at you, biting his lip at the sight of your heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips. Everything in you was screaming at him to take you, fuck you so hard everyone in this house would hear you scream his name, pump you so full of his cum that you would have to leave this room with it dripping down your thighs like the whore you were. His whore.

After tonight, you belonged to Rafe Cameron, whether you wanted it or not.

You yelped in surprise as he pushed you back on the mattress, staring at him like you had just woken up from a dream. Rafe admired your tits bounce for a moment before focusing on unzipping your shorts, pulling them down your legs with no hesitation before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your bottoms and giving it the same treatment.

He licked his lips at the sight of your pussy waiting for him in between your plush thighs, gaze darkening as he noticed how you were already glistening with arousal. His gaze went up and down your naked body several times, drinking in your curves and rolls, beyond turned on by the vision that was you naked and blushing under him.

“Soaking wet for me, aren’t you?”

He touched your clit then, smirking at the gasp you let out as his fingers went up and down your slit before pushing two digits inside. He groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. You were so wet he had no doubt he would be able to sink fully into you in one swift thrust.

With that in mind, he pushed away to get himself undressed, sighing in relief as his hard cock broke free from the confinements of his underwear. He was quick on going back to his place on top of you, spreading your legs open as he lined up with your core.

He was pressed against you – the tip of his cock wet with your arousal and lips on the curve of your neck as he readied himself to take you – when you slapped his shoulder hard enough to break him out of his lusty state.

“What?” he asked, starting to get annoyed by your constant interruption. “You’re regretting it now?”

“No,” you said before surprising him by pushing him onto the mattress and straddling his hips. “I just like to be on top.”

When you sank down onto him, your velvety walls squeezing his dick, he could swear he saw stars. Rafe gripped your hips as you started bouncing up and down his length, eyes locked on yours as he forced you down on him in sync with your movements.

“How many times have you touched yourself while thinking of me?” he asked, smirking at the look you sent him.

“I could ask you the same–”

You moaned as he slapped your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh only making you clench tighter around him. He was living the dream, buried deep inside you as your tits bounced in his face, your fucked up expression making something akin to male pride swell in his chest. You were enjoying having his dick inside you as much as he was.

His hands roamed your body as you fucked him, head thrown back in continuous moans and body shivering in pleasure as he started rubbing circles on your clit.

“Oh my god, don’t stop,” you moaned as you leaned over to support yourself on his chest.

Your moans and whimpers were like music to his ears, and he quickly realized he wouldn’t get tired of fucking you so soon; not when you looked and sounded like that while dripping down his cock.

He wanted more.

In one swift movement, he turned your body around, pushing you back on the mattress before grabbing your legs by the back of your knees and folding you in half. This was how he wanted you; on your back with your legs spread and ready to get fucked senseless.

“Oh fuck!” you moaned with a high-pitched scream as he sank back into you, filling you up to the brim.

The sound of his hips hitting the back of your thighs filled the room, mixing with your moans and whimpers as he fucked you at a ruthless pace, forcing your body up the mattress with every hard thrust. Your eyes were closed, and your head was thrown back, giving him full access to your neck as he lapped and nibbed all over your pulse and collarbone, enjoying your scent mixed with his.

“You take my dick so well,” he whispered in your ear, his words followed by a deep thrust that made you yelp his name. “Yeah, just like that, scream my name. Let everyone know who’s fucking you this good.”

He could feel your pussy clench around him like a vice at his words, sucking him in like you didn’t want to let him go.

“R-Rafe, don’t stop please, I’m so close.”

He obeyed your request, dying to see you unravel beneath him. Rafe didn’t stop fucking you even as you came, your legs shaking and pussy fluttering around him as you let out a muffled sob. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He wanted to make you come like that again.

You moaned when he pulled out, eyes opening to glance at him with a question on your lips before he surprised you by twisting your hips to the side.

“Get on all fours,” he ordered. “Ass up.”

“You’re way too bossy for your own good,” you mumbled, abiding by his order all the same.

He chuckled at your words with a loud slap to your ass, grabbing his glistening erection before pushing again inside your dripping folds. You both moaned in unison as he entered you, hands keeping your hips in place as he settled on a rhythm.

Fucking you in this position – ass jiggling as he filled you up and hand gripping your hair, completely at his mercy – made him almost slap himself from how stupid he had been in the past. He wasted all this time looking down on you only to now wish he had been fucking you from day one.

“I should’ve fucked you back in high school,” he growled in your ear as he pressed his chest to your back.

“Like I would’ve let you.”

“You’re letting me fuck you now, aren’t you? On all fours, taking my dick like the good little slut that you are.”

“Oh, shut up asshole. Just come already.”

Rafe chuckled at that, grabbing your chin and turning your face to him before giving you a rough kiss, teeth clashing and pulling at your lip before he promised you, “Keep talking like that and I might just put that smart mouth to good use.”

You laughed then, a moan quickly wiping the smirk off your face as Rafe started touching your clit again, fingers expertly touching you just as he figured out you liked it.

“Come around my cock one more time, baby,” he purred as he sped up his thrusts, his movements shallower as he felt himself near the edge. “Come around me before I stuff you full of my cum.”

“Come inside me and you’re dead.”

Rafe laughed, not at all threatened by your words. Nothing was stopping him from coming inside you, consequences be dammed. You would leave this room with something to remember him by.

He came undone as you orgasmed a second time, firmly holding you by the hips as he came inside you as deep as he could, set on riding both your orgasms for as long as he could.

You both lay on the bed when he was done, a mess of tangled and sweaty limbs as Rafe refused to pull out and drag himself away from you.

“Can you get off of me?” you mumbled after a moment of nothing but panting.

Rafe took a deep breath, not saying anything as he savored your body pressed comfortably against his, soft skin warm and damp like his own. He wanted to prolong the moment, knowing damn well that you would go back to despise him as soon as he pulled out of you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he would rather not go back to how things were, no matter how entertaining the beef you had going on was.

“Rafe…”

He sighed and pulled out without a word, sitting back against the headboard as he watched you stand up and start looking around for your clothes, giving him a nice view of your ass as you leaned over to grab your discarded bikini and shorts.

That familiar tension sat between you in the heavy air as you got dressed without any words shared between you. In the meanwhile, Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off of you, waiting for your next move.

No way he would let you leave as if nothing had happened.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked after he was fully dressed, watching as you texted someone on your phone.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this was not supposed to happen,” you said with a shrug. “And it’s definitely not happening again.”

He held your gaze for a moment, taking a step in your direction as you made a move to leave.

“Oh yeah?” he said as he tilted your chin up. “Says who?”

“I do,” you said, batting his hand away before walking past him and opening the door. “Goodbye, Rafe.”

Rafe wasn’t an inflexible man; if you wanted to leave, he would let you. But if there was something he was, was stubborn. For tonight he would leave you be, but he couldn’t promise that tomorrow – or every day after that – would be met with the same leniency.

You would be his, and that wasn’t up for discussion.

«»«»«»«»

Part 2 ->

#outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron smut

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forjongseong · 1 year

Text

enchule // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: secretary!jay x CEO!fem!reader (part 11.5 of the series)

genre: office!au, fluff, smut (minors dni) // warning: older reader; Jay calls reader “Boss”; profanity; oral sex (m. receiving); fingering; unprotected sex; rough handling; Jay got too carried away :( // wc: ~8.5k (I also got carried away)

previous chapters:

part 1 - carmesí part 2 - mi reina part 3 - millones part 3.5 - hasta los dientes part 4 - vente conmigo part 5 - tusa part 5.5 - apaga y vámonos part 6 - versos de placer minisode part 1 - cuando nadie ve part 6.5 - yo te quiero más minisode part 2 - la niña de mis ojos part 7 - aeropuerto minisode part 3 - falling autumn minisode part 4 - night night part 8 - ambulancia minisode part 5 - subtítulos part 9 - al caer la noche minisode part 6 - after last night part 9.5 - the way you look tonight part 10 - mon soleil minisode part 7 - daylight minisode part 8 - subside minisode part 9 - your princess, my queen part 11 - qué bonito

next chapters:

click here for the masterlist

summary: Jay had taken you to Greece for your birthday, so you decided to take him to Australia for his.

author’s notes: welcome to part 11.5! this one is 3k words longer than the original half episodes. (oops)

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, JAY! my one and only, my sun and stars, the moon of my life, the air that I breathe, and my reason to wake up every morning... initially I planned on releasing this special .5 part right on his birthday, but a lot of things happened, and I kept getting creatively cockblocked for some reason, so here we are 5 or 6 days later with a half episode that, hopefully, with its length, can quench the thirst for you readers (my dear carmesimps) out there.

after the love I received in part 11, I hope this part also suffices! warning: don't forget to regulate your breathing and stay hydrated because the smut scenes here are hot...ter than usual, if I can say so myself...

behold! the song title for this part:

will you just look at the lyrics???

I don't know what happened that my mouth liked it when I stole a kiss from you it was just a game that got out of control, the rules were broken now your name doesn't leave my mind if you want to repeat it, I remember where Baby, I show up even if it's far I feel despair if I don't see you

tell me that's not Jay?????? literally???

taglist: @jaylaxies @thots4hee @jayked @end-hyphen @nyanggk @yoursjaeyun @maggstar @bucketofhiros @dimplejaehyuncutie @excusememissiloveyou @shinkenprincess-oh @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy

(send an ask if you want to be added)

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a figure walking towards you steadily, and when he arrived right in front of you, you recognized the pair of shoes and immediately looked up.

“Remind me again why Jake is tagging along for our honeymoon?” Jay asked as he held a cardboard cup holder filled with three different drinks.

“Oh, thanks, mate,” Jake said, reaching out for his iced americano. The force of his hands almost tipped the whole cup holder, so you calmly held it in place by supporting the bottom with one hand.

“Sorry, Noona,” Jake continued. It seemed like he did not hear Jay’s complaint and was merely happy that his beverage order had arrived.

Jay sighed as he took his seat beside you, letting you hold both his drink and yours. He melted to your side and rested his head on your shoulder, to which you softly chuckled and patted his cheek with your free hand.

“This isn’t our honeymoon, it’s your birthday trip,” you explained. “We’re only gone for six days, and I want our actual honeymoon to last at least two weeks.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Jay muttered. “Do you think the company will be fine without the both of us? For fourteen business days?”

You shrugged and it made Jay’s head shake in place. “We probably need several meetings before we leave and during the honeymoon, I’ll have to check in once in a while.”

“That seems unfair. I don’t want you distracted during our honeymoon,” Jay said, pouting.

“Then I shouldn’t have married my secretary, don’t you think?” You brought your hand up and squished Jay’s cheeks, forcing him to pout his lips even more.

“If you need help and if you have a vacant position, you can hire me, Noona,” Jake chimed in, nudging your left elbow.

“You say that, yet you’re here with us,” Jay commented. “It’s because the destination is Brisbane, isn’t it?”

“Bingo,” Jake replied.

“Exactly,” you said at the same time.

Then both you and Jake snorted at the same time, and it made Jay wonder if the two of you were actually siblings.

When Jake told you a couple of weeks ago that he was going to visit his brother’s family in Brisbane, you immediately asked him a thousand questions about his plan—when he’s leaving, how long he’s staying, whether you should go and visit Brisbane with him, all the sorts. It took you a minute to realize Jay was staring at you the whole time, with a disapproving look, almost like he was hurt that you had forgotten his existence.

You found a less packed week that overlapped with Jay’s birthday, so without even asking if he approved, you cleared out both your schedules and planned your trip ahead, only notifying him three days before your flight so he would have enough time to pack. On the one hand, he was happy that you surprised him this time with a trip. On the other hand, he wished you had told him at least a week before, so he could participate in planning too.

“Just to be clear,” Jay began, clearing his throat. “You’re not tagging along for the whole time, right? Like we’re not gonna see you every day?”

“Of course not,” Jake answered. “But I’ll be on standby whenever Y/N Noona needs a tour guide. I can ask my brother for recommendations.”

“If it’s a city she grew up in, I bet she’ll be a good enough tour guide, but thanks anyways,” Jay said as he took a sip of his iced tea.

“You two speak as if I’m not sitting in between.” You shook your shoulder once and Jay immediately straightened up. “I think we’re boarding soon.”

The two guys redirected their attention to the gate, and as the staff made the announcement, the three of you stood up at the same time, gathering your belongings.

“Noona,” Jake leaned into you. “Thanks for the upgrade to business class.”

“Thank me too, the fuck,” Jay groaned, stretching his arms to the side. “It’s my birthday trip, remember?”

“Can you two stop bickering so I don’t feel like a nanny on duty?” You complained, staring at Jake and then Jay.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the two said in unison.

---

You had made the mistake of posting your trip on your private Instagram stories, and around the same time, your auntie—who was not really your aunt, just an old friend of your parents—replied to your post and demanded you come to see her. She even sent her husband to pick you up at your hotel, and you were too flustered and too polite to refuse.

Luckily, Jay is a natural at initiating conversations with new people. He offered to sit beside the driver, which was your auntie’s husband, Tim, and they began talking about the most random things regarding living in Australia, particularly Gold Coast. As the car drove along the more crowded streets, Tim explained a lot about the important places like he was a paid tour guide. It gave you enough time to respond to your family group chat, updating them about your trip.

“Are the boys not here, Auntie Nina?” You asked, looking around the room and noticing how quiet it felt.

Jay sat beside you at the dining table while you watched Tim and Nina prepare drinks and snacks. Jay leaned to whisper to you.

“Auntie Nina only has sons?”

“Three.”

“They’re all busy with work and college. My youngest is getting his master’s,” Nina smiled, walking towards the table, and placing a pitcher of iced tea and four clear glasses in the center.

“That’s wonderful,” Jay responded. “I bet he’s good in school too, huh?”

And just like that the conversation flowed naturally again. You updated them about your parents and told them a little bit about your work, and once they learned that Jay works for you, they both asked how you two met. You eyed Jay, who then tilted his chin to let you tell your version of the story, so of course, you did and had to censor some parts. Particularly the kiss in your office.

“He was just paying so much attention to me that I couldn’t help but notice him too,” you finished, tracing your finger on the outline of your glass. “I think I got lucky.”

“You’re gonna make me cry right here,” Jay said, stifling a sob.

Tim and Nina laughed at Jay, who literally had his lips quivering, and you brought your hands up to cup his face and comfort him, pouting at his cuteness. The rest of the night went by in a flash, with a delicious dinner prepared by Nina and a safe ride back to the hotel with Tim.

---

“I had a lot of fun today,” Jay said, making himself comfortable on the sofa, lying behind you.

You changed the channel on the TV, searching for a good movie. You felt like watching cable in hotels was somewhat a nostalgic activity, and you also found it quite therapeutic to just have the TV on while you keep yourself busy.

“I’m glad you did,” you replied as you placed your hand over his arm, which was now wrapped around your waist. “Jake is going to take us to the beach tomorrow.”

“I love that,” Jay muttered, kissing your shoulder. “Thank you for planning everything, babe.”

“It’s about time I return the favor.” You closed your eyes for a minute before turning your head slightly to your right, inhaling his scent. “You smell good.”

“Must be because I showered,” Jay replied nonchalantly. “You smell good too,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“Well, I haven’t showered yet, so I don’t know what you’re on.”

“I love the way you smell when you’re sweaty,” he said, tracing his finger along your shoulder and down your arm. “Reminds me of something in particular.”

You sighed heavily before you chuckled, feeling Jay’s fingers tickling your waist. “We’re not going to watch this movie, are we?” You asked.

Jay shrugged. “We can try.”

You exhaled in defeat and Jay chuckled lowly, placing his lips on the back of your shoulder, and staying there for a while. Your eyes focused on the TV and your fingers started stroking his arm that was wrapped around your chest. After a while, Jay settled into a more comfortable position, resting his head on a stack of pillows higher than yours so he could watch the movie too.

“Jay,” you called. He hummed and squeezed your waist. “After we go to the beach tomorrow, will you come with me to—”

“Yes,” he interrupted.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“You don’t have to. ‘With me’ was all I needed to hear. I’ll go with you anywhere.”

Jay’s voice was close to your ear, and when he finished speaking you felt like you were covered in a soft and warm blanket. You smiled to yourself before bringing his hand up for you to kiss. You then carefully turned around to face him, still lying down on the sofa, and he pulled you closer to him to keep you from falling off.

“I’m so lucky,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jawline.

He smiled widely and your mouth mimicked his expression.

“I’m glad the feeling’s mutual,” he said, before leaving a chaste kiss on your lips.

---

Jake’s eyes widened in wonder as he observed you and Jay belting notes to Yuuri’s Shutter, which was on the playlist that you chose for the drive. Jay insisted on driving, since Jake’s brother was kind enough to lend you all his car and because Jake was not confident enough to be the man behind the wheel. Naturally, you rode shotgun and did your best to navigate the map and handle the choice of songs.

The song reached its bridge and climax, and Jake giggled at the way you and Jay both inhaled dramatically before hitting the final chorus which had a key change. The whole performance became even more dramatic with the wind blowing through the open windows, and you had to push your sunglasses up to wear as a headband to keep your hair from flying all over the place.

You heard the sound of Jake clapping from the backseat, and you turned around and looked at him in confusion. Jake grinned at you.

“Was that a sad song? It sounded sad,” Jake spoke, eyeing the screen that showed the playlist. “You both sound devastated.”

You snorted and Jay shook his head. “It’s Yuuri! What do you expect?” He protested, carefully bringing the car to a stop.

Several people crossed the street, and you quietly observed them. Jay tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and adjusted the volume of the speakers.

“And since when do you speak Japanese, Noona?” Jake asked, poking his head through the gap between you and Jay at the same time the light turned green.

“I don’t?” You said, slightly confused.

“She just has the lyrics memorized,” Jay explained. You nodded in agreement.

You proceeded to play more of Yuuri’s songs and Jake happily bobbed his head while listening to them until you all arrived at Surfer’s Paradise. It took a while to find a close enough parking spot, but when you did, you and Jake instantly turned into kids.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, watching the soft waves coming up the sand. “I’ve been wanting to come back here for ages.”

Jake jogged towards you and his hair moved up and down. “Noona! Race you to the water.”

“Aaaaaah!!!”

Jay was startled at the way you and Jake both shrieked and laughed uncontrollably as you made your way to the shore. Jake almost tripped and lost balance, and you had to stop and squat to laugh properly. You then crawled your way on the sand, only to stand up and catch up to Jake as soon as his feet hit the water.

When you turned around, you saw Jay holding up his phone, recording everything. There were wrinkles on the corners of his eyes from the way he was smiling, and it seemed like he was trying not to laugh to prevent the phone from shaking too much. Jake caught your attention by slightly splashing you with the salt water, and you flinched before you chased him down.

“I won! I won!” Jake shouted, flapping his hands around to counter your attacks. You were flinging your arms in hopes that it would hit him.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Jay raised his voice, putting his phone back in his pocket before walking towards you. “Don’t tire her.”

Jake furrowed but at the same time you started coughing, and in between coughs you explained to him that laughing and running, or talking and walking up the stairs at the same time, was one of your asthma triggers. He immediately felt bad, and he hesitantly patted your back gently as you tried to control your breathing.

“Sorry, Noona,” Jake said before eyeing Jay cautiously. “We can just sit down and chill now.”

Jay was about to nudge Jake, but you stopped him by grabbing his arm.

“I’m fine!” You insisted as you watched Jay unfold a picnic mat. The two of them waited for you to sit before taking their places beside you.

“How do you like Brisbane and Gold Coast so far, mate?” Jake asked, peering over you to look at Jay.

You smiled and lay down completely, and Jay looked at you for a split second before answering.

“I get why you two are attached to this city,” Jay replied. “It’s the perfect balance between quiet and crowded.”

“Exactly,” you chimed in, squinting your eyes to avoid the sun.

Jake continued the conversation while Jay took out cans of soda and packs of sandwiches to munch on. Whenever you started to giggle, Jay was quick to pull you up back to your sitting position, and Jake also put his hand on your back out of reflex. The three of you ended up talking about a lot of things even long after you finished your snacks, and if it weren’t for Jake checking the time, you all would have stayed even longer.

“I need to take my hyung’s car back, but before that, I can drive you guys to the hotel?” Jake offered, dusting his pants from the sand as he stood up first.

Jay looked at you and you looked back at Jake. “I actually need to drop by a friend’s home and then the pharmacy. It’s fine, we can take the train.”

“Are you sure?” Jake asked, more towards Jay than to you.

Jay nodded. “Say hi to your brother for us,” he said.

“Alright then,” Jake responded. “I’ll text you again later.”

On the train ride to your friend’s house, you fell asleep on Jay’s shoulder, and he was determined to stay awake and alert, taking over the navigating duty that was supposed to be yours. Initially, you did not want to stay for longer than an hour at your friend’s, but she and her husband insisted, and Jay was more than happy to chat more with the new people he just befriended. Before going back to the hotel, you made a stop at the local drugstore and went through a list of products that your mother had asked for.

You both arrived at the hotel later than planned and by then you were exhausted. As you were taking off your makeup, Jay leaned back on the wall beside the bathroom door, looking at you.

“Can I help you?” You asked as you realized he wasn’t going to stop staring.

Jay chuckled before putting his hands in his pockets. “Just waiting for the bathtub to fill up. What? I’m not allowed to stare at my wife?”

You smiled softly and held a cotton pad over your eyelids. “So for tomorrow, I don’t have anything grand planned. We’re just gonna stay here and go for a walk if you’d like. But then the day after that is your birthday, so you get to choose whatever you want to do.”

“Really?” Jay replied, his eyes lighting up. “Great, then I can use some time tomorrow to look up stuff to do.”

“Mm-hm.” You wiped off the residue on your face before stretching out your arms. “Are you going to take a bath now?”

“Do you wanna join me?” Jay asked as he took a couple steps towards you.

“I’m…” you paused to look at your reflection, “I’m really tired, actually.”

Jay placed his hands on your shoulders and started rubbing you gently. “That’s my point. I’ll give you a massage. Come on.”

“You know I should be the one pampering you, right?” You looked at Jay through the reflection.

He brought his hands to cup your chin and tilted your head upwards before planting a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s not my birthday yet. Just come relax with me, okay?”

There was no way you could refuse your husband, especially when he was asking so politely.

“Just a bath,” you demanded as you stood up. “Nothing more.”

Jay chuckled, but then you gave him a sharp stare and he nodded. “Nothing more,” he said, clearing his throat. He then took one step back. “After you, my love.”

---

You slowly opened your eyes and found yourself staring at the dark. When you turned your head to the right, you noticed the faint light from the sun rising outside, and you guessed that it was still way too early in the morning to be doing anything. A second later, you remembered that you had a horrible dream where you got lost in a maze, and you called for Jay, but he never appeared.

To your relief, when you turned to Jay’s side you found him there, still fast asleep. You took a deep breath before bringing your hand up to caress his face, also brushing his hair back in the process. His breath was steady, despite his eyebrows forming a frown, and you stroked his cheek before you leaned in to kiss him.

Your kiss woke him up. He stirred before he opened his eyes, and you melted right beside him, grabbing both his hands and holding them tight between yours.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice croaked. “Good morning.”

“Morning, baby,” you whispered, placing his palm under your cheek, and resting your head back on the pillow.

He moved his thumb across your cheek before clearing his throat. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, and Jay shot you a tired smile. You snuggled closer to him, caging yourself in his arms and moving close enough until you could touch your lips to his neck. His arms wrapped around your waist naturally, and when you kissed his chin he chuckled, squeezing you gently.

You moved your hand to his arm and squeezed him there, and with that, he looked down at you with his eyes only half open. You tilted your head slightly, bumping your nose to his chin before you carefully grazed your lips over his. You felt his lips slowly part, and that’s when you dived in for a passionate kiss.

Holding his face close to yours and letting him press your body onto his, you kissed him deeply. You felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, and as you opened your mouth you moaned when you felt his tongue tug against yours. You stopped for a split second only to catch your breath before you kissed him again, your leg thrown over his waist, latching your hip onto his.

Jay’s hands traveled underneath your camisole, bunching up the fabric until his palms were the only thing keeping your back warm. He stroked your back softly and ran his fingers down your waist and to your hips as he continued to lock lips with you. For a moment, the sound of your lips smacking was the only thing you could hear, aside from the soft sound of the clock on the wall ticking.

“I want to try something,” you confessed, pulling away only to find a strand of saliva connecting your lips and his.

Jay leaned in for one last kiss before he replied. “What is it?”

As much as you wanted to stay in his arms, to feel his hands run through your hair and along your back, you wanted to pamper him. You wanted him to feel more pleasure, so you had to fight yourself from staying in place.

“Just a second,” you whispered before pushing yourself away from him. His arms stayed there for a while as he watched you take off your top and sit straight, leaning against the headboard. “Come sit between my legs,” you demanded.

Jay’s eyes squinted in confusion, but his body was quick to react. He shuffled out of the covers to go to you, but before he could settle, you clicked your tongue.

“I want you naked, though.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

His tone of enthusiasm, in contrast with his messy bed hair, made you chuckle. He got undressed in seconds, and you reached out your arms when he made his way between your legs, resting his back against your chest.

“Oh,” he sighed, “this feels good.”

“I haven’t even started.”

“No, I know,” Jay rested his head on your right shoulder. “I just know it’s gonna be good.”

You had to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes, so you grabbed his chin and pressed your lips roughly against his, earning a light chuckle from him.

“Just relax, okay?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Are you comfortable? I don’t want to be leaning or pressing too hard on you,” Jay said, his eyes flickered from your lips to your chest.

Unbelievable, you thought. On the verge of receiving pleasure, he was still thinking of you.

“I’m fine, baby, thank you,” you replied, kissing his temple. Jay then relaxed and placed his hands on your thighs.

You began caressing his chest, trailing your fingers from his nipples, down to his abs and the v-line that always drives you crazy. You noticed his breath hitched once he saw your hands moving downwards, and you had to press your lips to his ear to give him reassurance.

“Relax,” you whispered.

You reached for his penis with your left hand, bringing your right hand back up to his nipple to pinch and play with it in hopes that it will get him hard fast. He flinched before he relaxed in your touch, occasionally whimpering when he felt that you were pinching too hard. Your hand moved up and down his shaft, continuing the motion until you felt him gradually harden in between your fingers.

“There he is,” you chuckled softly, lips grazing his earlobe. “A good morning to you, Sir.”

At this point, Jay was moaning at your every touch, and he even shifted in his seat once he felt your lips pressed against his neck. You began sucking softly, determined to make him feel enough pleasure but without leaving a noticeable mark. You continued kissing him down his shoulder while stroking his cock, which was now fully erect.

“Show me how you like it,” you requested. “Use your hands and show me.”

“What?” Jay asked, confused. He didn’t realize that his breath had become heavier. “But I’ve barely touched myself since we started—”

“I know,” you responded. You kissed his neck again for reassurance and he sighed contentedly. “I just want to see how you used to pleasure yourself.”

You had moved your hands up to his biceps and you were stroking him there. With one squeeze, he began palming himself with one hand as he adjusted his position between your legs. You observed quietly as you paid close attention to the motion of his hands—the way he took long strokes from top to bottom, the way he ends each stroke with a slight squeeze towards the tip, the way his head fell back when he increased the speed. You noticed how he was almost panting like it was too much and he was trying to hold back.

“I don’t… Do you… Should I do this until I cum?”

The uncertainty in his voice and the submissive nature of it made you fall for him more, as if that was even possible. You nodded and gently nudged the side of his head with yours.

“You can cum if you want, baby.”

“But,” Jay paused before he opened his eyes and looked at you. “I want you to make me cum.”

And how could you refuse?

“Okay,” you whispered, kissing his lips. “Do you want my hands?” You kissed him again. “Or my mouth?” You kissed his jawline. “Or do you want my pussy?” You kissed his earlobe.

You could basically feel Jay shiver under your touch before he answered you, only after taking a considerable amount of time to decide.

“Your… mouth,” Jay muttered. “Can I?”

“Of course.”

You stretched out your legs and moved from behind Jay, making him rest his back against the headboard. He leaned comfortably after you placed a couple of pillows behind his back, and once he was set you crawled your way downwards, taking your position this time between his legs.

The sight of you on all fours with your ass up and your head over his crotch made him groan. You saw his cock twitch and decided to put him out of his misery. He had been a good boy, after all, listening to your requests and delivering, so you kissed the tip of his cock before putting it into your mouth.

You almost gagged from the way his length quickly filled up your mouth, and you could hear him shudder from the single move. You began bobbing your head up and down, coating his shaft with your saliva, and you felt his fingers very carefully brush your hair away from your face before bunching them up into a ponytail. He kept holding your hair as you continued your ministrations, and every whimper or moan that you heard from him served as your sole motivation.

You tried taking his whole length in, and you felt your jaw stretch a little too wide. The pause in your movements made him concerned, so he tried his best to comfort you by reaching out for your hand. You took his hand in yours, and you continued to suck him, alternating between kisses and kitten licks too.

“I’m c-close,” Jay whimpered. His body was shaking involuntarily, and you were secretly proud of yourself that you were able to make him feel this way.

You pulled your lips away from his cock with a pop, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before you spoke. “You can cum in my mouth, baby.”

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You hummed and quickly put his length in between your lips again. You heard him mutter several curse words as you continued, and when you felt his hips start to thrust upwards, you held him in place by gripping his waist. The grip of his hand that was holding your hair up began to loosen, and after one last suck, you felt him release in your mouth. You were lucky you braced yourself, otherwise it would have ended in a choking mess.

You couldn’t take all of his cum, so when you pulled away some of it was dripping down your chin. You swallowed the rest, though, and when you looked at him, he was looking back at you in awe.

“It’s not my birthday yet, is it?” He asked, breathless.

You wiped your bottom lip with your thumb as you chuckled, and you shook your head as you made your way up to him, straddling him in the process.

“Fuck. Thank you for that,” Jay said as soon as your face was level with his. “Kiss me.”

“You sure?” You halted, hovering over his body before he pulled you in by the neck, licking your lips clean and kissing you feverishly.

“Wait,” he said all of a sudden, pulling back. You frowned. “Your turn.”

He placed his hands on your hips and slammed you down on his crotch, earning a surprised yelp from you. You then chuckled and he did the same, kissing you only after you relaxed on top of him.

“If you keep kissing me like this, I think I can cum,” you whispered against his lips.

“Is that a challenge?” Jay taunted, his fingers moving down to push your panties to the side. “If it is, get ready.”

You moaned into his mouth as soon as you felt his fingers graze your folds. With just one touch, you were already shaking from pleasure, and it didn’t help that he was nibbling your lips and kissing you like oxygen was only coming out of your mouth. He inserted one finger, and then two, and when he put in his third finger you gasped for air, unlatching your mouth from his.

“Jay,” you panted. “It’s too much.”

You felt his fingers curl inside of you and you whimpered, your body shaking as your head fell to his shoulder. You rested your forehead there as support, and you were grabbing his arms for dear life.

“Jay,” you whined helplessly.

“Oh, come on, baby,” Jay spoke right into your ear. Somehow you could hear him smirk. “You always take my dick so well. Surely, three fingers are nothing?”

You moaned again as he began moving his fingers in and out of you faster, and although you had already lost track of time, you knew that it took you less time to cum compared to him. Within a minute you were already a shaking, moaning mess on his lap, and you couldn’t even complain when you heard him chuckle proudly, his chest moving against yours during the process.

Jay’s fingers slipped out of you and as he brought them up to his face, you could see the way they were coated with your cum. But then he swiped his index finger over your lips, as if applying lip balm, before taking all three fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you sighed, one hand latched onto his shoulder and your head resting against the crook of his neck.

He chuckled and your body moved with his.

“You’re welcome, baby.”

---

You walked out of the bedroom and into the living room all dressed up and covered in a light coat, and when Jay noticed you, he had to do a double take, completely abandoning his attention over his phone.

“Where are you going?” He asked, quickly eyeing your outfit from head to toe.

“I just need to pick up something from the lobby,” you said, waving your hand to emphasize that it wasn’t something of his concern.

“You’ll be back soon, right?” Jay asked again, sounding slightly worried.

You nodded. “Of course, I will, baby.”

You blew Jay a flying kiss and he made smooching faces back at you before you headed out the door. Jay then picked up his phone and continued his search for must-do activities that might fit into your schedule tomorrow. He must have been completely immersed because the next thing he knew you were already back, while he felt like you left only two minutes ago. You were holding a suspicious box, and you smiled as you made your way to the coffee table in front of the sofa Jay was sitting on.

“Now I know your birthday is tomorrow, but I figured we could get the cake a day early and eat it when the clock strikes midnight or something,” you explained without waiting for him to ask. “That is, of course, if you want to.”

Jay had never heard you sound so unsure, or were you being nervous? Either way, he found you absolutely adorable, and he smiled widely as he put away his phone and leaned in.

“What cake is it?” He asked.

“Chocolate,” you replied. You saw him raise an eyebrow. “Your favorite. The expensive kind.”

Jay chuckled lightly and shook his head. You excused yourself to put the cake in the fridge and you trotted back to your original spot, standing in front of the TV. Jay looked up at you in question, tilting his head, while you took a deep breath.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you muttered to yourself while at the same time checking that it was two hours left until Jay’s big day.

“What is happening?” Jay said, his tone curious.

You sighed, taking your phone out and setting the volume to the max before choosing a song that definitely sounded seductive. You placed your phone on the table and began undoing the belt of your coat.

“Mr. Park Jongseong,” you spoke. “This dance is for you.”

You began moving your hips to the beat of the song and Jay’s jaw dropped. As you pulled the belt off and tugged the coat down, it pooled to the floor and revealed the tightest dress you have ever worn wrapped around your body.

“Oh my God,” Jay said under his breath.

The dress, colored in Jay’s favorite shade of green, hugged your curves in all the right places. The spaghetti straps were barely holding it over your chest, and you were fully aware that Jay was already looking at your protruding nipples. You lifted your leg to take off your shoes, and the tight skirt of the dress rode up your thigh. Jay licked his lips and leaned back on the sofa, amused and obviously ready for whatever you had prepared for him.

You continued to sway slowly, trying your best to keep your moves subtle and in sync with the music. You made a gesture of hugging yourself, and in the process, one of the straps slid down your shoulder. You heard Jay take a deep breath, and you looked at him as you pulled the other strap down before taking a step closer to him.

“Y/N,” Jay muttered, adjusting his position on the sofa. It was clear that your little dance was making him hot and bothered, exactly how you wanted him to be.

Very carefully, you kneeled on the floor, feeling the softness of the rug brush against your knees. You reached for Jay’s hand, which was resting on top of his thigh, and tugged on it slightly just to kiss the back of it, like he was a king that you worshipped. You then moved back and sat on the balls of your feet, stretching your arms to the side and up before bringing them back down like it was one of the most important moves of your rehearsed choreography.

Then, you sat and faced the side, bringing your knees up to your chest, which obviously made the dress ride up even further. You could feel Jay’s eyes glued on you, and you rested the palms of your hands to your side, pushing them to your back as you slowly lay back down, keeping only your ass on the floor and your back arched.

Jay scoffed before he palmed his erection over his jeans, and you smiled as you sat back up and began crawling your way to him. You put both hands on his knees and he immediately grabbed them, pulling you up and onto his lap. You whimpered when you felt his clothed hard-on rub against your bare cunt, and he realized you were not wearing underwear only after he slid his hands on your thighs and under your dress.

“Fuck, baby,” Jay hissed. “You really came prepared.”

You hummed and he smiled, strengthening his grip on your thighs. You took one of his hands off and brought them up to your chest, tugging on your dress. He immediately pulled it down, revealing your tits and erect nipples.

“God,” he whispered. “Thank you for this meal.”

Jay latched his lips on your tit and you giggled, welcoming him in your embrace and resting your hand on the back of his head. He licked, sucked, and kissed your boobs so hungrily yet also so tenderly, and there was no way you could keep your eyes open throughout the whole process. His other hand pulled your dress down completely, making it bunch around your waist. His hips began thrusting upwards, and you winced as you felt the rough fabric cause friction between your folds.

“You know,” you began, breathless, “this would be better if we took it to the bedroom.

Jay did not stop kissing you. In fact, he moved his mouth upwards and started sucking your neck while his hands traveled down to your thighs, gripping them tightly before he stood up with a grunt. He bit down on your neck, and you stifled back a moan, and as he maneuvered the both of you to the bedroom, you had to be his eyes and his ears.

“Don’t drop me,” you warned. “Don’t bump me into a wall either.”

Jay smiled and moved to kiss your chin, and before you knew it he had thrown you on the bed, gently, if that was even possible. He wasted no time in undressing, pulling the top of his white shirt over his head and unbuttoning his jeans. When he started unzipping, though, he paused to look at you.

“Wait, babe,” he began, “you were done with your dance, right?”

You chuckled. “The goal was to get you to carry me to bed, so yes, mission accomplished.”

Jay smirked as he pulled his jeans down with his boxers. He then tugged on your dress around your waist, and you lifted up your hips so he could take it off completely.

“Did you just buy that dress for me to take off?” He asked.

You nodded innocently, and Jay let out a breathy chuckle before he hovered over you.

“Thank you for the little show, baby,” he said, caressing your face. “You’re so fucking sexy.” He kissed your lips. “I mean, fuck.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, and he smiled so wide that the corner of his eyes crinkled. “Practicing that was so embarrassing for me.”

Jay frowned. “You practiced?”

“In my mind,” you clarified. “It almost took a toll on me. Could you tell that I was nervous?”

Jay was kissing your neck as you spoke, and he laughed onto your skin. His finger then trailed down your waist and quickly reached your core, and he drew a line along your folds which instantly made your breath hitch.

“From this, I can tell you were just aroused as I was,” he whispered, sucking softly on your neck. “Am I right, baby?”

You whimpered before nodding slowly. “Yes,” you whispered back.

Jay then grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, making you sit on his toned abs as he relaxed and placed his hands under his head.

“Ride me, baby,” he requested. “Give me an encore.”

You placed your hands on his shoulder and scooted downwards until you felt his shaft press against your core. Jay groaned and moved his hips up, and you had to palm his chest to keep him from moving.

“Go on,” he continued. His position was relaxed, seemingly determined to just watch you do your thing.

You began slowly rubbing your folds along his shaft, from the bottom up and then back again. With every stroke, you moaned softly, and your eyes were closed but Jay was observing your face closely. It drove him crazy how you practically looked intoxicated, and he was motivated to watch you keep going.

“That’s it, baby,” he commented. “Just grind on me like that.”

Your movements became faster, and your moans gradually became louder too.

“Keep going,” Jay whispered. “You look so beautiful, baby.”

You whined as you continued rubbing against him, and you were desperate for more.

“I don’t want to cum yet,” you muttered. “Not now.”

“Put it in, baby,” Jay said, bringing one hand to your thigh to stroke it. “We can take it slow.”

You lifted your hips and reached for his cock, aligning his tip to your entrance. You then sank slowly on him as your eyes rolled back, and you heard Jay letting out a shaky breath as he completely filled you up.

“Oh my God, Jay,” you whined. “You’re stretching me out so good. You’re so big.”

Normally you would leave the words of affirmation in the form of desperate whines and moans, but for tonight, you wanted him to hear exactly what you were thinking of, and from the way his Adam’s apple bobbed you knew it was something he liked.

“Tell me how it feels, baby,” he said, squeezing your hips.

“So good,” you whimpered, feeling him twitch inside of you. “You feel so… so good.”

Seeing how you, a woman who is usually good with words, repeat the same thing three times already boosted Jay’s ego. His hands moved to your ass, and he squeezed you there, earning another lewd moan from you.

“J-Jay…”

“Mmhm, baby,” Jay replied as he began thrusting. “Tell me more.”

Jay pushed himself up with his elbows and you rested your arms on his shoulder until he sat all the way up, staying inside of you. Your chest was now pressed against his, and he moved his face closer to yours, only close enough for your noses to brush against each other.

“I…” you began after licking your lips, “I want you to fill me up all night.”

Jay smiled before giving your lips a peck. “Do you think you can handle that, baby?”

His hands squeezed your ass harder, pushing them towards him and guiding the way you grinded your hips. Your breath gradually became heavier.

“I want to,” you continued. “I want you inside me. I want your lips on me. On my lips, on my neck, on my—”

You moaned when you felt him lick and suck on the skin beneath your jaw. Your grip on his shoulder tightened.

“On my pussy, too,” you finished your sentence with great effort.

“Hmm?” Jay hummed in response. “Do you want me to switch and put my lips down there now?”

“No!” You replied without missing a beat and sounding way too pathetic. “Not now, you’re still filling me up so good.”

Jay chuckled. Again with ‘so good’, as if those were the only words you could use to describe the feeling.

“Tell me what you want me to do right now.”

“Your hand on the back of my head,” you said. Jay did so. “Pull my hair and make me tilt my head so you can—”

You breathed shakily when you felt him suck on your skin, bruising your neck even further. You were sure you would be left with hickeys all over, but you didn’t care.

“What else, baby?” Jay mumbled against your skin.

“Stop asking me and just be rough,” you answered. “Please?”

Jay kissed you passionately and slid his tongue along your lips before pulling away. He held your ass up and slid out of you, only to hold you by your hips and turn you around. You immediately got on all fours and pushed your ass up, and when you felt his cock align with your cunt again you bunched up the sheets in your hands.

You moaned with every thrust Jay made, and his grip was strong on your hips. Your ass slapped against his pelvis, and the lewd sound echoed throughout the room along with your whimpers and his grunts. He heard you whisper ‘harder’, and he was more than happy to do so, hearing your moans go even louder.

You felt Jay’s hand move down from your hips to your thighs, and it took you a while to realize he was maneuvering you both to lie down on your sides. He pulled you towards him until your back was pressed against his chest, and with one hand he lifted up your leg before entering you again. The position allowed him to hit you on the right spot, and you screamed his name almost a little too loud. He continued to thrust into you, his skin slapping against yours, his grip firm against your thigh, and his teeth sinking into your skin like you were his prey.

“Jay…” you called, running out of breath.

Jay maintained the same pace but exerted more strength, pushing your leg even further up.

“Jay,” you called again, feeling tears beginning to pool in your eyes from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

You heard him grunt against your ear and you felt his other hand squeezing your boob a little too hard.

“Jay,” you tried again. “You’re hurting me.”

His movements stopped in an instant. His grip on your thigh loosened and you slowly felt him sliding out of you.

“No,” you reached to grab his hand in yours. “Stay inside.”

“Baby,” he called, his voice hoarse.

You rested your leg and brought your hand to your nape. Jay immediately put his hand over yours as he slid out of you completely. You were about to protest, but you were met with his eyes full of worry.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he hovered over you. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You licked your lips before bringing your hand up to caress his face. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

Jay nodded and you closed your eyes. You then felt him kissing your forehead ever so softly, making a soft smacking sound. He then kissed you down your nose, to your left cheek, and your right, before moving down to kiss your jawline. He kissed your neck next, lingering on the parts where your skin started to turn purple. You caressed the back of his head, almost encouraging him to continue. You felt his lips against yours and you pouted, reciprocating the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your lips.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him despite the single tear trickling down your left eye.

“We can stop if you want—”

You shook your head quickly and palmed his cheek. He placed one hand over yours as he held himself up with his other arm.

“I want to finish with you,” you begged. “Please?”

You felt Jay’s breath hot against your face when he nodded. He brought himself down on his elbows and kissed your cheek once again before he entered you, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“I promise I’ll be gentle,” he whispered before brushing your hair back.

You nodded. “Please keep kissing me.”

Jay kept his word and his lips latched onto yours as he resumed his strokes, going a lot slower and deeper compared to before. Your hands caressed his shoulders and moved down to his biceps, and you tried your best to reciprocate all his kisses while touching every part of his body that you could reach. Your hands rested on his back as his hips began to stutter, and when your walls clenched around him during your release, he groaned into your neck and came soon after.

Usually after a long session, Jay would collapse on top of you and relax as you brushed his hair, but for now, he was quick to move to your side, relieving you of his weight. His eyes concentrated on your face as he started to stroke your waist softly with his hands.

“Y/N?” He called. “Baby…”

You licked your lips before rolling to your side to face him.

“Forgive me, love,” he whispered. “I really wasn’t thinking—”

“It’s okay, Jay,” you chuckled weakly. “If anything, I feel sorry for killing the mood.”

“You did not kill the mood.”

“For being too weak then.”

Jay frowned and immediately propped himself up with one elbow. “You are not weak.”

“Fine,” you smiled, closing your eyes. “Maybe I’m just a little too old.”

You didn’t hear a response, so you opened your eyes, and you found Jay staring at you with teary eyes.

“Please don’t say that,” he muttered. “I feel horrible for hurting you. I swear I’m never going to be rough—”

“Now hold on,” you stopped him. You then chuckled lightly before tugging on his arm gently, making him lie down again. “I liked it. When you were being rough. Maybe we just need a safe word, that’s all. I think I called you three times to get you to pause.”

“Fuck,” Jay groaned. “I’m going to punish myself.”

“Look at me.”

The switch in your tone immediately made Jay comply, and only then you noticed how his face was covered in sweat, and maybe some tears mixed with it too.

“I don’t want this to change anything,” you said. “Promise me?”

Jay shook his head, and it made you frown.

“You need to understand that hurting you is the last thing I want to do. Actually, it’s not even on my list. So next time you want me to go rough, I’ll do so but very carefully.”

You snorted. “So, not rough then?”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife,” Jay whispered, scooting closer to you. “Please forgive me for now and we’ll use this as a learning point for future sessions.”

Jay pulled you into him and began leaving kisses all over your face, not the gentle feathery kind but the wet and aggressive type, making you chuckle and close your eyes as a precaution.

“Okay, okay,” you finally said, placing a palm over his chest. “By the way,” you continued after taking a quick peek at the clock, “Happy birthday, my love.”

Jay turned to find that it was three minutes past midnight and when he looked back at you, you were smiling at him and looking at him with full adoration.

“I can’t believe I ruined my own birthday present,” Jay said. “Your dance was so good and I had to go and ruin it.”

You grew tired of him feeling bad, so you exhaled and pushed yourself away from him, and he frantically tried to keep you in his embrace.

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop apologizing. Just stay in my arms.”

“I said happy birthday,” you mumbled against his chest.

Jay began running his fingers through your hair gently. “Thank you, baby. I’m lucky I get to spend it with you for the rest of my life.”

You couldn’t help but smile so wide. Jay then cleared his throat.

“You’re smiling, aren’t you?”

You smacked his arm, and he winced out of surprise. After a short session of soft slapping and tickling, he began caressing your thigh that was now thrown over his waist.

“Do you like your birthday trip so far?” You asked, resting your palm on his cheek and caressing him there with your thumb.

Jay nodded. “It’s been lovely.”

“Good. Then you need to outdo it later when it’s my birthday again,” you demanded, gently slapping his cheek repeatedly with your hand.

“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am,” Jay said, saluting you.

You giggled and pinched his cheek. “Kiss me, you dork.”

“Yes, Boss,” Jay whispered before sealing your lips with a kiss.

As you felt his plush lips against your lips and his tongue dancing with yours, you were reminded once again about how much, and how deeply your husband loves you.

"Should we have some of that chocolate cake now?"

Jay's voice broke your train of thought, but even if he could break every part of your body, you would still love him just as much.

-END-

read the next part: meet cute

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maries-gallery · 10 months

Note

Ray is too big that everytime he fucks Alice he needs to slow down but he's so damn horny he went from gentle to feral 👀

OH MY GOD PLEASE ANON FACTS! Sorry i completely forgot this was in my inbox but OH MY GOD I HOPE YOU ARE STILL AROUND TO READ THIS! (Although it'd be a miracle if you are since this has been there for literally 2 years). Tagging @kissmetwicekissmedeadly BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO THIRST WITH ME HERE!

genre: nsfw, mdni

warnings: size kink, pussy drunk!Ray, praise kink, mating press, creampie, breeding kink, dacryphilia, female bodied reader

Please Ray knows he is big. He knows your pussy cannot take him and he loves it. He loves how your brows furrow together and how you scrunch your nose as he pushes his length inside of you, loves how you gasp as he bottoms out and fills you with everything he has to give.

Pain laced with pleasure as he carefully slides out only to sheathe his cock inside of you again.

And he loves how tight and warm your walls feel around him, how they clamp down on his cock as he thrusts inside of you, stretching you out so blissfully you cannot think straight.

"Damn- You're... Ungh- You're so tight, baby-" He pants in your ear, and it takes all he has to hold himself back as you whine underneath him, "Taking me so well-"

And he wants to take things slow with you, he wants to be gentle and worship this love you share. But you just feel too good around him and he has so much to give... Your pussy just sucking him in with every roll of his hips, the sight of his cock disappearing between your folds driving him feral.

He can't go slow anymore. He has to ravage you, to fuck you until you can't walk anymore, and it's fine because he will be here to carry you anywhere you wish in the morning.

"Nnngh- Ah-! Ray- too-too fast!" You mewl in his ears, the tight coil in your core pooling with desire and an ever growing need, every snap of his hips against yours bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your release. Too good, too fast.

Your thoughts turn to mush in your head as he hoists your legs up and places them over his shoulders, caging you between his rock hard chest and the soft mattress. And it hurts so good when he hits your sweetest spot, when he reaches so deep you feel him in the back of your throat.

"I-I know you can take it, baby-" He says, experiencing the new depths this angle gives him, "Doing so good for me-"

Your heart swells in your chest at his praises, his name falling like a prayer from your lips, followed by a string of moans and incomprehensible babbles.

"That's-That's it, be a good girl for me-"

And you are always so good for him, Ray cannot get enough. Can't get enough of how your lips part in a silent scream of his name, back arching off the bed and hands fisting the sheets as your orgasm washes over you.

Can't get enough of the tears of pleasure that prick at the corners of your eyes as he continues to fuck both you and himself through your releases until he has given you every single drop of his cum and is sure to leave you with child.

Until he crumbles over you, the both of you spent and exhausted from rounds and rounds of him filling you up.

#ikemen revolution #ikemen revolution fanfic #ikemen revolution fanfiction #ikemen revolution ray #ikemen series #ikemen cybird #ikemen ray blackwell #ikerev #ikerev fanfic #ikerev fanfiction #ikerev ray #ikerev smut #ikemen revolution smut #ray blackwell #ray blackwell smut #ray blackwell fanfiction #ray blackwell fanfic

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bg-brainrot · 2 months

Text

WHaBFHtLA - Astarion x GN!Reader - Chapter 17: What We are Now

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Elf!Tav)

Genre: Reincarnation, Angst, Mystery, Slow burn

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Canon-Typical Violence, blood, lots of talk of blood

WC: 11.5k words, 17/?? chapters

Summary: When you’re left to your own devices, you find yourself knee-deep in mystery. Despite all of this, Astarion never leaves your mind. And perhaps you never leave his.

Ao3 | [Ch16][Ch18] | WHaBFHtLA Masterlist

When you awake for your twenty-second day in the house, you wonder if you should even bother counting anymore. Astarion is done with you, what use was staying for another week? Should I just… leave? You think, blinking yourself out of your reverie.

You don’t leave immediately– rather, you can’t bring yourself to. He has condemned you, called your little situation over, but he hasn’t forcibly removed you, so you sit on the bed and think.

Let’s say he really never wants to see me again… What do I do now?

Your mind answers quickly, I need to help the spawn.

Well, I can’t just stay here! … Can I?

I don’t want to go, you answer. Maybe I’ll just stay until I get kicked out?

That wouldn’t help. Astarion may only be more upset. Shouldn’t you get out before you make him hate you even more?

Maybe he just needs time, you defend. I can hope, can’t I?

You’re not sure how long you spend just thinking, but when you finally finish you decide on a few things.

First, you will stay here as long as you can, until the vampire kicks you out himself. Second, this changes nothing– you may be the only one who has the means to help the spawn and you cannot abandon them when you might be their best hope. And third, no matter how much it hurts, even if Astarion abhors you with every fiber of his being, you can’t seem to feel anything but love for him. It’s like a valve you’re no longer able to shut. So, you will simply need to see where the flow of love guides you– whether it be into the man’s arms for forgiveness or away from his disdain.

Path decided, you spend the rest of the day hard at work memorizing the cipher. You light the paper as Dal instructed, illuminating an intricate pattern of symbols and their corresponding Common counterparts. Fascinating, you think, taking a quick perusal. It seems a mixture of some elvish, some infernal, and perhaps a smidge of thief’s cant?

Several of the symbols simply make sense, clicking immediately in your mind. Others swim in front of your eyes, as you realize with growing dread that you’re starving . Not enough to warrant risking an encounter with Astarion, right? Right, you think, steadfastly focused on trying to decipher the paper.

Eventually, your hunger becomes too much for you to ignore. Spending another day without food is certainly out of the question– you’re not sure how vampires seem to do so regularly given their unrelenting hunger– so you summon your remaining courage and intone an Invisibility spell.

Now invisible, you sneak out of the room to tiptoe down to the kitchen. You pause for a brief moment on the stairs, debating whether or not you should steal Rhapsody while you’re invisible– you decide against it, afraid that going anywhere near his room could get you caught. Perhaps you should wait until it feels like you’re no longer welcome. Only then, only maybe, you should steal it as a last ditch effort.

Once in the kitchen, you grab anything that might stay well, dried fruits, nuts, grains, and slink back to your room. You never see the man you’re avoiding, but you’re certain that he knows you’re still here. How could he not?

Does he just not care? you think. The thought fills you with unease, dreading his apathy more than any amount of antipathy…

Back in your room, hunger sated, thirst quenched, and feeling more like yourself, you get back to work on memorizing the cipher. It’s easier once the growl of your stomach stills, allowing you the clarity you needed for some of the trickier symbols.

Ah, I see, you think at one point. In all of my dreams, I would never have guessed that symbol translated to this. What a clever little system. I wonder if Astarion contributed to it.

Astarion– you mind keeps coming back to the man. Despite the dull ache in your chest every time a thought of him crops up, you can’t stop thinking of him. Even now, knee-deep in research he would loathe, your mind strays to him. I wonder what he thought of it all, back when my past-self started the research. He always let them do their work before eventually distracting them away. He must have been fine with it once upon a time, albeit unenthusiastic.

You think of him once more a few hours later, once you think you’ve nearly memorized most of the cipher and recognize his name written in code on a journal entry. It takes a moment for you to translate, but it reads, “Astarion is to join me on the next expedition. If you’re reading this, love, please finish packing.” You smile at the note, wondering if Astarion did end up reading the reminder.

The smile drops when you read the next line, “We’re exploring at coordinates 38, -22, it’s our best lead yet– a bit hidden, but I’m nearly certain it’s the wizard’s tower.” You set the paper aside, wondering if it had in fact been that fateful place.

Halfway through the day, a knock comes at your door. Your heart catches in your throat. Could he be…? You head to the door cautiously, quietly, as if you could sneak up on it– As if your silence could keep the man on the other side from reconsidering and running away. Maybe he understands, maybe he spoke with Dal and finally, truly–

You open the door to see Dal, waiting patiently, a kind, open look on her face.

“Hello,” she says, bowing her head slightly. “I’m sorry to arrive here unexpectedly, but I spoke with Astarion.”

You try not to let the mention of his name affect you, or the fact that it’s not him at the door show in sheer disappointment. You’re not sure how successful you are, but your voice sounds somewhat normal when you respond, “Hi Dal, it’s alright. We, um, fought. As I’m sure he told you.” If you could call that a fight…

She nods, and you wonder what he said to her, if he was as mad at her as he was at you. “He was hoping I would talk to you, actually. To… convince you not to help us. I told him I didn’t want to do that.”

Of course she wouldn’t, or she wouldn’t have snuck in here without his knowledge in the first place. But you’re still curious where this leaves them. After all, they still clearly all care for each other. How did they all manage to stay ‘siblings’ this long, with this many disagreements? As an only child, you don’t suppose you’ll ever understand. “Is he mad at you?”

Dalyria scrunches her face a bit, as if unsure how to answer that. “Yes. But not in the way he seems to be mad at you. I won’t delude myself into thinking that any of us matter enough to Astarion to warrant more than a century of, well, brooding.”

Again, it feels like you’re speaking with an old friend– if your heart didn’t feel so thoroughly beaten, you might have even laughed along and assured her otherwise. As it was, you could only manage a simple response, “I see… So I really did ruin everything, didn’t I?”

“Hardly,” she says with the shake of her head. “He will come around. He just needs… time. And maybe for a few of us to beat him over the head.” She gives you a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite do anything to reassure you.

“Even if he has all of the time in the world, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop trying to help you, so what difference does it make?” you ask. It’s not in your nature to give up on something like this. You can tell that that runs deeper than who you are now, it’s who you’ve always been.

“We appreciate that. And I hope that Astarion will too, in due time,” she says looking down, perhaps to where Astarion may be at this very moment. “As much as he doesn’t want you to do this, he still cares about us enough to give me this chance.”

You look at her, furrowing your brows in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“I would like you to stay to help us,” she says, looking at you intensely. “But you can’t exactly stay in the colony, not with all of that… well, blood in your body. You might get eaten alive before you can read a single piece of paper.”

It makes sense– Petras had mentioned as much when you had been locked up in their cells. You can’t imagine being locked up and without magic again would be of much help anyway. “So, what’s happening? Is Astarion letting me stay here?”

She nods. “He won’t be staying here with you though. He’s still quite upset. I’ll try talking to him, of course, but we aren’t on the best of terms currently, so no promises.”

You feel a weight lift off of your shoulders. The dread you had been carrying with you all morning fades ever so slightly. Thank the gods, I have time. “How long?” you ask.

“He said you’re allowed to stay until your ‘previously agreed upon time’,” Dal intones in his voice, and you do laugh this time.

A week. Not a lot of time, but enough to at least get through some of these notes, ask Dal questions. Maybe start to look for new leads…

“Okay,” you say to her, with a firm nod. “I can work with that. Thank you, Dal.”

“It’s the least I could do,” she says, waving away your thanks. “I am aware that you’re sacrificing a lot for us. Just as you did in your past life. Know that I will never forget that.”

In this lifetime, you don’t know what it’s like to have a sibling. But gods do you wish that you could count Dal as one. You wish that you could ask her for a comforting hug, for her to listen to all of your problems about Astarion– maybe you’d had that before, but you’re too afraid of ruining yet another relationship to find out. “I’m happy to help you all, just as I did before,” you say. “Maybe when this is all said and done, you can put in a good word for me with Astarion.”

The woman laughs. “If you manage this, I will help you win over anyone. An archdevil, a god, you name them, and I will make it happen.”

Even with the world on offer before you, you know that your heart only wants the one man. “I think I would be quite content with Astarion,” you say, blushing despite yourself.

She gives you a knowing smile, eyes warm as she looks upon you. “Don’t worry, my friend. He will come around eventually. A love like yours doesn’t transcend lifetimes for it to fade like that.”

Gods, you want to believe her. Just like you wanted to believe Halsin. So you nod, trying to keep the burning in your eyes from turning into tears. “Yes, you’re right,” you respond, with no real conviction. I just hope he believes that someday.

"I know I am!" she says, emphatically, sensing your lack of faith. "You know, when you first arrived, when you were locked in the cell– he and I spoke. He told me he wanted nothing to do with you."

You recall as much, so you gulp and respond, "Yes, he made that very clear."

"He only agreed to speak with you for our sake. I asked him to check at the very least, to see if maybe you had a means to help us. After all, if he wanted nothing to do with you, it wouldn't matter, would it?" She offers up the question like a challenge, one he likely took up with ease.

Sure , you think. Pawn off the weird elf that showed up on your doorstep to your desperate siblings. "That… makes sense." You still feel a sting of disappointment at knowing he truly didn't care what had happened to you. “He asked me about your hunger at the very least.”

“Well, he's nothing like that now. He wants me to leave you the hells alone,” she says, as if the answer was right before you. “Don’t you see? Whether or not he knows it, he cares now. He only wants to keep you safe– he just has a very… Astarion-way of showing affection."

That's one way to look at it. "I know, Dal," you say with a sigh. "I'm afraid that affection isn't enough in this case."

She looks at you for a long moment before she shakes her head in frustration. "Gods, you two really aren't any different. A hundred years, two hundred years, you'll continue to completely lose all sense of reason about each other."

You want to defend yourself, even Astarion, but you suppose she's right. "Did we… fight often?" You're afraid of the answer.

"Not particularly," she says, smiling at you ruefully. "But it was always about something truly exasperating like this."

You wish you'd dreamt of some of those arguments, if only to figure out how to fix everything– you doubt any of it would be that helpful for this particular situation though. Perhaps Dal remembers. "How did we fix things afterward?"

The woman shrugs. "Not a clue, honestly. I just know that eventually Astarion would show back up with a skip in his step, acting like the sun shone out of every dismal crack in the Underdark.” She gives you a lighthearted chuckle, which you reluctantly reciprocate.

“Fine, I’ll retain a modicum of hope,” you relent. “But in my past-life, they had more than a hundred years of love between them, resolving their issues together. I’ve had what? Three weeks of awkward fumbles and apologies?”

At that she snorts, throwing her head back a bit. “You’re both so dramatic. You will just need to believe me when I say, this has been the happiest, most alive I’ve seen Astarion for the past hundred-fifty years.”

The thought fills you with guilt more than any type of joy. Not only had your previous life sent him into a broken limbo for decades, but to think that you also had ruined the first bout of happiness he’d experienced? You feel like the villain in Astarion’s story more than anything. “Well, let’s hope that proves to be enough, despite all of this.”

“Like I said, I’ll speak to him,” she assures. “Now, I should get back to him before he tries to murder Petras.”

Dal looks to be about ready to leave when she adds, “Oh yes, here.” She shoves a Sending Stone into your hand. “It’s Astarion’s.” She adds before you can ask, “Don’t worry, he gave it to me. Something about keeping his house from blowing up, but I suspect he also wants to make sure you’re alright. This way we can communicate a bit faster. If you need anything, Leon and I are ready and willing to help, either to answer questions or get you any materials.”

Your hands close around the stone, hugging it to yourself tightly as you recall that the last person to use it was likely Astarion. “Thank you, Dal.”

“Think nothing of it! I know this feels… bad,” she winces at the understatement. “But it might be a good opportunity for us to investigate openly– without needing to hide from Astarion’s worried glares.”

It’s true enough, you suppose. But you still feel like the bad outweighs the good. You decide not to tell her that though, since this is her life on the line. “Yes, I’ll be sure to call you up here if I find anything, ask any questions with the stone if I have them.”

With one final wave, the woman leaves you to it, heading back down the way she came. You think it’s the last you’ll see of her for the day until you receive a message from her once she’s out of sight.

“Testing the stone. Also, don’t forget, no matter what happens, we’ll always be your family too.”

Your heart clenches at the shy admission of love from her, and you promptly reply, “The stone works. And thank you, Dal. I appreciate that more than I can say.”

You spend the rest of the night ensuring that the cipher is thoroughly memorized. Once you’re certain you could recite it forward and backward, you light the corner of the parchment with a small fire. As you watch the paper burn in your hands, you can’t help but feel a sense of real accomplishment for the first time since you’ve arrived.

Every other success has come with a caveat so far. You had gained entry into Astarion's house, only under his strict limits. You had helped save the colony, but not without exhausting yourself. You'd managed to gain Astarion's trust, only to destroy it quite thoroughly.

So you relish the feeling, soak in the momentary victory. That night your reverie comes quickly.

You dream of the Hero's life that night. At first, you suspect it's another useless, albeit comforting dream of Astarion, cozy in the man’s arms. But when you open your eyes you find his hands aren’t caressing so much as restraining.

Your body struggles against Astarion’s grasp. “Let me go, Astarion!”

“No!” he hisses, pulling on you tighter. “We need to go. Now.”

Oh no, you think, as the dream settles around you. You can feel a chill in your bones, the deep dank of the Underdark around you. You must be in the necromancer’s tower. Is this… that day?

“Astarion, we can’t turn away now,” you plead, tugging against him. “We’ve come too far for that.”

“Nonsense,” he responds with another forceful pull. “We can, and we shall .”

You can feel your body’s heels dig in, into the dusty tiles beneath you, crushing them slightly with the pressure. “I know what I’m doing. I can get to the wizard’s laboratory and–”

“Wizard?!” he all but yells in his panic. “I know you want to help, but this, my dear, is a necromancer’s tower. You know as well as I do that this isn’t worth it.”

“It is worth it. And I know what I’m doing,” your voice counters, strong in its confidence. You can feel that certainty, and maybe they had been prepared for all manner of inevitabilities. Unfortunately not the one that mattered. “If we leave now, we will have to wait another month until the tower is available to us. Will we be any more prepared then?”

“Fine,” Astarion growls, nostrils flaring with anger. He turns his body away from you and you’re left facing his armor-clad back. “Go on then. I’ll be waiting here when you finally come to your damned senses.”

And so you continue on alone.

Unlike other dreams, where you wish you could control your body, run into Astarion’s arms, save yourself– you don’t shy away this time. You already know how this will end, and you know that no amount of cowering will save you. So you embrace the experience.

Your body walks throughout the tower, careful all the way, but with solid, steady steps. You know that their confidence isn’t unwarranted. They’d faced necromancers before, they’d been in magical towers– the only difference was that back then they had had help.

After what feels like hours of careful sneaking and searching, you find what you suspect was the laboratory from their research.

It’s as disgusting as one might expect a necromancer’s lab to be– beakers full of dark, suspended liquid, the thick stench of undeath in the air, and more than anything, blood. Gods, there is blood everywhere. The man who worked here was not a kind one if the splatters and trails of the substance were any indication.

Your body tiptoes around some unknown liquid on the floor, carefully inspecting every inch of surface, looking for something. The notes, you think. They’re probably hidden away somewhere…

Thinking in a similar vein of thought, your past-self heads toward a large, imposing desk at the end of the room. Opening drawer after drawer, they pull out papers, looking through them, tossing them back on the table once they dismiss them. Eventually, they find a compartment behind one of the drawers– tucked behind is a familiar stack of papers. The very same that Dal had deposited in front of you earlier in the day. Only this time, they’re pristine.

Your past self starts shuffling through the papers, clearly written in a language that neither of you read. Perhaps something long dead by the looks of this place. They seem to be unsure if these are the papers, their confusion seeping through to you, until they get to the final page.

There, a ring is sketched, several notes pointing out elements within the design.

The elation your past-self feels is blinding in its strength– It’s like staring into the sun, and you feel the reverie receding as a result.

No, no, you think. There are other emotions, anticipation, concern, curiosity– all of them call to you, indicating that there’s still more to find here. I need to learn more. I can’t–

The dream slips out of your fingers, and you’re left laying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling in disappointment.

Somehow, you're still counting down the days in this house. It's your twenty-third day, and you have free reign of the place– an odd sensation after Astarion's watchful gaze monitored many of your movements for three weeks.

It's not unwelcome though. Despite its overwrought decorations, the mansion is lovely. With a sigh, you get out of bed and wander down to the kitchen. Ah, you think, opening the pantry to a sad, lacking sight. I need to go get food.

You had skipped several meals last week, as a result of battle, injury, and general disposition, so yesterday you'd been able to forgo your weekly trip. Now, you nod and close the empty cabinet, ready to go restock. All the while aware that it may very well be your last trip to this market.

As you head out, you can't help but think about what an inconvenience this is. Gods, I wish I didn't need to eat. At the same time, what would the alternative be? An ever-present hunger that gnaws at you every moment of every day, like a vampire? You suppose you should be grateful for your mortal body’s needs.

The thought does result in you spending the trip thinking about blood.

There is a lot of blood in the world, and some mortals are even willing to offer their blood up freely. However no amount of mortal volunteers would be enough to satiate the entire colony of vampires.

You could try to create a source of blood for them, but would the hunger ever truly leave them? Or would they just need to keep drinking, stuck in a sanguine cycle of continuous thirst? You’re not certain, but therein lies the dilemma: How can you ever satisfy a hunger born of vampirism?

Gods, I wish that myth had been reality, you think, heaving your groceries over your shoulder and heading back to Astarion’s mansion.

It's on the way back that you're reminded that you’re not the only one out to sate a vampire’s hunger. There are plenty lining up, just waiting for their chance.

As you climb up the stairs to the grand door of Astarion's manor, you spot someone waiting at the precipice. They seem to be nervous, not approaching the door even as the seconds trickle on. When you pull up behind them, they startle.

“Oh sweet hells,” they breathe out, hand on their heart. “Who… ?” They look at you confused, and you get a good look at the stranger. They’re a tall, purple tiefling– a bit lanky and awkward, but overall neatly arranged, with the appearance of a bardic scholar.

“Sorry for the fright,” you respond, nodding at them. “If you’re looking for Astarion, he’s away.”

The tiefling does nothing to mask their disappointment, but looks at you appraisingly. “And you are?”

Who are you? You’re not entirely sure how to respond. You’re not his lover, his housekeep, nor his colleague. You’re nothing but a stranger to him, you suppose. Pushing aside the introspection, you only say, “A guest.”

They look visibly relieved, and something in you stings at how easily they believed that. Do I really look that ill-suited for him? You decide not to express this as you push past them and toward the house.

“Excuse me,” they say, holding a hand out to you as you walk past. “Do you know when he’ll be returning?”

You could be honest, say that he won’t be back until the end of the week and even then, he will be leaving. Or you could be even more honest, say that he wouldn’t want to see them anyway. But for some reason, you hold your tongue, shake your head, and add a simple, “Sorry.”

They give a sigh, dropping their head in a deflated defeat. “Well then. All this way for nothing.”

Your curiosity can’t help but poke at that. “How far did you travel?”

“I hail from Athkatla,” they say, with a grimace. “I don’t much look forward to heading all the way back.” In Amn, you recall. Certainly a distance to travel, though not near as far as Neverwinter. It’s likely that they didn’t have the luxury of a teleportation circle though.

Such a sizable distance for a chance to meet with Astarion? Surely that couldn’t be the case. Then again, that was the case for me… You still ask, “Why come all this way for Astarion?”

They look at you as if you’re daft. “Are you quite certain you are a guest here?”

“I am,” you say, adjusting your bag as you try to stand a bit taller, prouder. “Why?”

“Because there’s not a single hopeless romantic alive who isn’t aware of Astarion,” they say, and you can practically see the ill-placed longing in their eyes. “Naturally, it’s a slim chance, but for the love of a good vampire? It’s the very fabric of legends.”

“Don’t you know that legends aren’t always what they’re cracked up to be?” you ask, a bit too bitterly. Both thoughts of the mythical sunlight ring and of Astarion’s long-unbeating heart turning your lips into a scowl.

The tiefling doesn’t seem to care, laughing lightly. “That’s where you’re wrong. All good legends have a kernel of truth to them. It’s simply a matter of finding it!”

Huh, you think, considering the odd optimism of their words. Externally, you respond, “Well then, good luck finding the truth.” You bow your head as you walk away, eager to put this conversation behind you and get back to your own myths.

“Wait! Could you– maybe you could relay a message to the man?” the tiefling calls, desperation raising the pitch of their voice.

You’re about to agree– after all, what harm would pretending to relay a message do?– when you take a pause. Maybe they should have the cold reality of the situation laid before them. Maybe they won’t have the same, horrendous experience you’d had, if only you can dash the last remnants of hope from their heart. Or maybe, just maybe, you’re feeling jealous. More jealous of this real, living person in front of you than any of the hypothetical lovers who’d arrived at his door in the past century.

Embracing the starting smolders of jealousy, you say, “He’s uninterested. In fact, I recommend that you rewrite the legend.” You take a step back toward them, staring at them with what you hope is an intimidating look. “He’s not a lonely, good vampire, waiting for someone to come save him. He’s flawed. He’s rude. And his heart belongs to one soul and one soul only.”

They take a step back, clearly uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. “And who are you to say such things?”

There’s that damnable question again. This time though, you tilt your chin up, ignoring the guilt in your stomach, the ache in your heart. Because you know who you are, despite everything that’s transpired between you. “Astarion’s long lost love. Write that in your next legend.”

With those words, you turn back toward the house. You ignore their spluttering responses, opening the door, entering, closing it behind you. Once you’re alone with your thoughts again, you let out a deep breath.

Gods, why did I do that? you think to yourself, acutely aware of what a disrespectful show that was. The tiefling hadn’t done anything wrong– nothing that you hadn’t done anyway. How could you snap at them like that? One day you realize you love the man, the next you decide to declare it to a stranger. Worse yet, a stranger who was vying for that same man’s love.

Love really does drive people mad. You go to organize your food supplies for the week in a fog of shame. Underneath it all is a subtle satisfaction: you had only spoken the truth. Astarion really has refused to love another, you truly are his lost love. All you need to do is fix everything that you’ve broken and the pieces will align again. Or so you tell yourself. It’s a solid driving force to keep you going forward, away from the depths of despair.

Perseverance is really all you need right now, because you have a large stack of papers with years worth of information, just waiting for you to uncover it.

You start at the beginning. Or at least, you think it’s the beginning. It’s hard to tell with the way that Dalyria has stacked the papers, and you take it upon yourself to start reorganizing them as you read.

After many hours, you find several distinct piles emerging in front of you.

The first pile is where you place all of the research on blood: what makes blood, how vampires process blood, how it impacts them even if they can survive without it. Plenty of it is knowledge you know, only with the depth of someone who’s obsession is evident in the details.

The second pile is composed of all of the research you had done on the mage’s mythical enhanced sunlight rings, as well as the mage’s tower. Some of it overlaps with the research on blood, but a large portion of it is looking into the myth, tracking down its source, and where the mage lived.

The next pile contains all of the ring diagrams that Dal mentioned. Plenty of intricate design work, courtesy of your past-self and perhaps some of Gale’s work as well– you recognize a few magic runes in his script. The designs range in sizes, in complexity, in form. From a glance, you can tell that the rings were designed with two major components in mind: a material needed to be embedded within the base metal and another material needed to infuse it. Truthfully, it’s basic enchanting, likely their initial design ahead of visiting the necromancer’s tower based on Gale’s conjecture.

The final pile consists of, well, everything else. You place notes about vampirism, journals of your past-self’s process, and investigations on other leads among other things. These leads include a mythical fountain of blood in Evereska, a stone said to contain the life’s blood of an entire nation, even a tall tale of how a man staved off hunger for three centuries through discipline and more than a little blood magic– all incredibly dark, gory legends which seem to be even more far fetched than the rings. It’s unsurprising to see the depths to which they would have gone to fix the problem, although a bit concerning.

Gods, you think. I would have hidden some of this away too.

And the forbidden nature of these legends takes you to the singular uncategorized piece of information: the necromancer’s notes. They’re grotesque, of course– a testament to the dark depravity of this man’s magic. But they also feel distinctly different from your own notes.

A quick Detect Magic shows that none of the materials in front of you are directly magical in nature, but you can tell simply by the heavinessness in your heart that they are important. Perhaps there is more to this legend than meets the eye…

You wish you could tell though. It’s difficult to decipher the notes, with the dark, dried splotches of blood covering a large portion of the text. Surely Gale would have removed the blood if he’d been able to, but you still attempt a quick, magical clean.

Sure enough, the blood remains, and you curse the nine hells. “Fine then,” you growl at the notes in your hands. “We shall have to do this the hard way.”

The hard way will have to wait though, as it’s already gotten quite late in the day, your mind is inundated with information, and you’ll need to prepare a new set of spells to fight this particular beast. So you set down the materials, leaving them in an orderly set of stacks for the night, and enter your reverie in a bit of a huff.

That night you dream of a life in which you were a bard, spinning your tales of legend at a tavern. It’s one of your less preferred lives, as you’ve gathered that they’re somewhat of a scoundrel. You can’t help but wonder if dreaming of them is born of your guilt from the day, a form of wicked penance. It certainly feels like it as you spend the reverie playing the lute for a pittance.

On your twenty-fourth day in Astarion’s manor, you wake up well-rested and truly excited to get to the bottom of this necromancer’s notes. Underneath the excitement is a bit of dread. Only three days without Astarion, and you’re already wondering if you might ever see him again.

I hope I’ll at least see him when I leave, you think. Surely, he wouldn’t let me leave without a goodbye?

You try not to dwell on it as you prepare a few key spells for the day: Identify, in case there’s any spell put on the papers; Remove Curse, just in case that spell isn’t a kind one; and Comprehend Languages, to be able to read the archaic text.

Alright, you think to yourself, as you hurriedly scarf down a meal. Let’s try to figure this out.

Several hours, a few spell slots, and a lot of swearing later, your excitement has thoroughly wavered. What the hells are these made of, you think, staring down the necromancer’s notes in frustration.

They are certainly not made of paper, because any attempts to transmute the material have failed immediately. They are not magical in of themselves, but they do seem to have some kind of preservation magic affecting them, protecting them from everything save for blood. The notes seem to be written in it. And, worst of all, your own dying, damnable blood will not let you make out the text save a few spots– likely all of the same spots that Gale already took a look at. No wonder he wasn’t able to make heads or tails of this rubbish, you think with a sigh.

Those spots are informative, to an extent. Once you’re able to comprehend the ancient language, you find a few key pieces of information. They describe what Dal mentioned, that the blood of a vampire lord was key. They describe that the rings must be made of a magical metal, infused with that very same blood– you briefly wonder if you’d be able to melt Rhapsody down without Astarion noticing.

Finally, the notes describe a vampire’s hunger in deep, deep detail. You don’t want to know how this necromancer could have gathered this much detail, but it was clearly an integral part of his research. One passage in particular stands out to you:

A vampire’s hunger is unquenchable. It is as eternal as their souls, seemingly intertwined into their very essence. As such, I knew I would need to find the source of this unquenchable thirst and do the unthinkable: quench it. Naturally, I have utterly smothered it.

When faced with the dilemma of an eternal gift coupled with an eternal curse, you must somehow separate the two. So I have done so.

All you need to do is take this hunger, give it new form, and fill that form beyond all reason. Simple, really. How could it have taken me so long to find this solution? How could I have limited myself to the mere moral quandaries of mortals?

Of course the most natural ingredient of all is blood–

The words cut off, as your own past-self’s blood cuts off the rest of the page. You’re not sure what to make of it. It certainly sounds like the lunatic ravings of a man drunk on his own power, but it also doesn’t seem entirely impossible…

Regardless, the magic is dark. It almost sounds like he took the curse of a vampire’s ravenous hunger and gave it physical form, then quenched that physical form with the very thing vampire’s require: blood. More so than removing the curse, it seems to imply transferring it to an object, essentially, to sate your own thirst. You can’t even imagine how much blood you may need for a ritual of that magnitude.

I should think that this is ludicrous, you think, glaring down at the parchment. I do think that this is ludicrous. But… Some part of you isn’t wholly convinced. Yes, it sounds insane. Yes, the necromancer was likely mad. But, blood aside, it doesn’t seem that far from your own magic. Transmutation at its very core is modification, it’s changing the nature of things. This isn’t pure madness.

That’s all well and good, of course. However there’s no use dwelling on it while the rest of his notes are so entirely illegible.

In fact the last time these were legible was…

The thought strikes you like a crack of lightning. I was the last person to see these notes in their entirety. Well, not you. But it may as well have been you, given that you have their memories.

Just a few nights ago, you read through the notes in your reverie, understanding none of them. You want to facepalm at the sheer misfortune of it. “What in the Outer Planes am I supposed to do with that?”

You remember from that very dream that you weren’t done in the tower. You have no clue where you could have ventured to cause your death. What else could you have been looking for?

Should I… the thought feels wrong. You don’t want to finish it, Astarion’s angry face all but burned into your mind. But finish it you do. Should I head back to the tower?

You’re not sure if it's your heart or your soul that aches at the thought. And you’re not sure if it's in pain, fear, or a deep, unshakable thrill.

You still the emotions with a singular deep breath. No, I can’t go. Not yet.

There’s no point in going until you know what it is you’re looking for. You wish you could figure it out by simply racking your brain, but memories, reveries don’t work like that. You’ll need someone with arcane magic to help you.

The Sending Stone is out of your pocket a moment later.

“Dal, do you have a wizard, maybe a sorcerer, available who knows Detect Thoughts?” you send.

Her response is as immediate as it is disappointing, “Leon has some experience as a sorcerer, but never learned Detect Thoughts, but can’t replace spells. No one else comes to mind. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I’ll figure something out. Thank you Dal.”

Another dead end.

Fine, you think. I’ll simply wait. It’s only a few more days of being here. I can have someone back in Neverwinter help me.

The thought causes your heart to clench in fear. You had tried to avoid thinking too deeply about where you might go after this, but the thought of returning home makes you want to scream. It may not be returning home in shame– after all, you did manage to learn quite a bit– but it feels miserable.

After a few more hours of reading, ignoring the fear steadily building around you, you lay down for your nightly meditations.

That night, you dream of your previous life as a blacksmith. It’s initially a rather welcome dream, as always. Repetitive and warm, soothing all of your frustrations easily.

Then you realize that everything’s going wrong today. Your metals aren’t welding, cracks keep appearing after you quench. At first, you hate it. The additional stress to your already burdened mind is too much. But after the fourth mistake, you realize that your past-self is still going at it– a new metal, a new tool, a better form.

Right, this is who you’ve always been. You will persevere.

In the end, it’s an informative dream, and you take notes from it before you can forget. After all, if your delusions of deciphering the ring’s magic bear fruit, you will need to forge six thousand rings. You may want to learn from yourself before that.

For your twenty-fifth day in the house, you spend most of it taking your own notes.

After a quick breakfast, an even quicker wash, you’re back in front of the pile of papers, on to find another avenue for the spawn’s salvation.

You’ve always found that the easiest way for you to figure out next steps is by writing all that you know out. So you consolidate a lot of your learnings from your past-self’s notes, adding in some notes of your own context. And, as you continue to retread the notes, you start to uncover some odd patterns.

Under the diagrams of several ring designs, you spot a few symbols, ones you don’t recognize from the cipher. Once more the Sending Stone is pulled from your pocket.

“Dal, another question. What are these symbols underneath the diagrams?” you message.

You can practically hear the sigh that precedes her message, “Despite our best efforts, we never could make heads or tails of those. Even Gale had no clue.”

It piques your interest though, nudging at something in the back of your mind. “Are there any other symbols like this in my notes?” you shoot back.

“Yes, some in the enchantment notes. Others in notes of the tower,” she responds.

“Thank you, Dal.”

You go back to inspect those notes, and, sure enough, you find a different set of symbols. “What in the hells?” you speak out loud, as you recognize the one under the ring’s enchantments.

It’s the symbol of your shop– of your past life as an enchanter.

You flip back to the ring design and comprehension dawns on you. It’s the blacksmith’s initials composited into a brand, the one you used on the items you forged.

Are they referring to some of your past lives in these notes? You take a closer look, unsure of what the symbols could indicate. But as you spot the acronym of the innkeeper's inn under the tower’s notes, it all but confirms it.

You suppose they would have experienced the same lives you had, and some of the same reveries, especially around anything that might have been helpful to their life. The thought that they could have experienced memories you haven’t concerns you though. “What does this mean?” you think, tracing over the symbol with a finger.

Gods do you suddenly wish you had taken better records of your other, less interesting lives. Really, it’s your past-self’s fault for living such an exciting life. Astarion’s fault for being so damn captivating.

There’s no use in regretting now though, there are plenty of other mysteries for you to solve as you let that one ruminate.

Let’s say the daylight ring really is our best bet, you think, laying out the various diagrams. What would I need?

You know quite well at this point in your life the components of a spell. There are three component types, and the more complicated the spell, the higher likelihood that you will need to incorporate all three in greater amounts.

First, material components. Items that a spell consumes to be cast. In the case of the ring, you suspect that this is blood. A lot of it. Included in that is the blood of a vampire lord.

Second, somatic components. Hand movements to bring the weave into your spell. In this scenario, you suspect these components will be the actual crafting of the ring. Likely a complicated process, and one that you may be able to decipher from Gale’s added notes.

Third, verbal components. An incantation, a phrase, a song– anything to tie the spell to the material plane. Here, you had next to no clue where to begin. There’s not even a hint of an incantation in any of these notes, and, even if there was one in the necromancer’s notes, you don’t suppose you would be able to find it.

Looking at the three different elements laid before you, you know that your options are limited for now.

Save one.

Rhapsody. You know exactly where it is, you know exactly what it’s capable of. You could take it now and begin to find a way of transmuting it or… you could leave it. Because it’s Astarion’s blade and you’ve already taken enough from him.

He’s told you he hates it, you think, trying to rationalize your theft as you stand up.

He’s not even using it, you think, walking down the long hallway to Astarion’s room.

He probably won’t even notice it’s missing, you think, entering the room silently.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re standing in front of Rhapsody. The wicked blade seems to call to you, its allure twisted and warped by years of serving a dark lord.

It’s not Astarion’s– not truly. He hasn’t used it in almost 300 years, if Dal is to be believed. So when your hand reaches out, grasps the handle, and wraps the blade in a soft cloth, you only feel the barest twinge of guilt.

You can’t help but turn to your former self’s portrait next to the bed, wondering what they would think of all of this. The answer is clear enough by the fire you see in their eyes, the conviction in the set of their shoulders. They would want you to finish this.

Before you head back to your room with the pocketed blade, you head to the parlor. An idea struck you, courtesy of your past-self’s portrait. Perhaps the anvil in the room didn’t belong to Astarion after all. Perhaps it was just another remnant of your past-self that he’d been too afraid to throw out.

Once in the room you make your way back to the oddly shaped sheet. Throwing it off, you take a closer look at the tool.

Just as before, you notice various metalworking tools, a few pieces of metal that you think you recognize as Platinum, Iron, even a few scraps of Mithral. Almost as if Astarion had covered it with a sheet without bothering to clean up your previous work. You suspect that that’s exactly what happened when you find a pair of pliers still squeezing a piece of gold.

From your notes, you recall that your experiments with the spawn and advice from Gale had led you to believe that gold or silver would be your best bets as conduits for the magic– assuming that the metal from Rhapsody would play well with them. You recall from your reveries that not every type of metal would weld together properly.

Surely you had more material than this to work with though. You look around the room, wondering where else Astarion may have stashed your previous treasures.

Your eyes land on a covered seat that seems a bit lumpier than the rest. Upon uncovering it, you discover various small pieces of metal, some common like copper, others much rarer, like Adamantine. You grab a few, in case you do end up transmuting Cazador Szarr’s blood-infused blade.

Back in your room, you lay out some of your material components. This shall do for now. You decide that tomorrow you will focus on solving the much bigger problem: blood.

It’s late now though, and time to rest on what you’ve learned.

As you lay your head down for your reverie that night, you finally allow yourself to believe Dal. You truly may be the only one capable of piecing these clues together.

The idea warms you as much as it concerns you. Knowing that it’s up to you, your memories, to save the spawn? You feel the pressure for the first time, an uneasiness settling in the pit of your stomach. No one has depended on you like this before, and the pressure feels almost tangible.

That night, you dream of your life as the innkeeper. Again, the inn is dead, not a customer in sight and likely none for the rest of the night. So you pull out a book.

Following along with your past-self, you read a story about a beautiful man who has been cursed, the adventurer that saves him. It would all be very touching if the adventurer didn’t resonate so well with you, leaving you wondering if perhaps you were as dull and predictable a ‘hero’ as Astarion had led you to believe.

The story ends with the hero saving the man, of course– as all good, happy tales do. You love experiencing the twist with the innkeep, feeling their emotions rise and fall as the hero faces their challenge, and surmounts it with the help of those around them.

It's a nice sensation after all of the frustration of the day and you stir from your rest with a content smile.

Your twenty-sixth day in the house, you see red. On top of missing so much information, you know that you have another major dilemma to figure out: where will you find a lot of blood?

After several hours of brainstorming, considering different sources, magical substances or items, you land on one that seems the most feasible.

You could create blood with alchemy. While you would need a large amount of starting material, you could likely use water or another liquid. You yourself don’t have the capability to create water, but it would be easy enough to acquire.

But the solution seems too simple. Surely Dal and the rest would have found a way to transmute blood on their own, would have done so for the spawn at some point over the past several hundred years?

So you message her.

“Hi Dal, have you all tried transmuting water to blood before?” you send.

“Hello. Yes, we have. It would help if it worked, but it never seemed to quench our thirst.” She immediately sends another message, “When we looked into it, we found that it was lacking any life essence. We needed to find a way to make it real.”

“Understood. Did you find any leads on that?”

“None on my end, let me check with Leon.”

A few minutes of silence pass as you continue to scratch notes with your quill. You’re a bit startled when she follows up, “Nothing on Leon’s end either. Though he said that your past-self had some ideas. He recommends looking at the research on blood composition.”

You thank her and are about to get back to work when you stop, Sending Stone still in hand. Before you can second guess yourself, your next message is on its way, “How is Astarion doing? Have you… made any progress?”

The pause that follows feels incredibly loud, your heartbeat pounds painfully in your ear as you wait for a response. It comes a second later, and gods are you unsure how to move or feel or react to it. “He’s been a bit stir crazy. I think he misses you.”

You remind yourself that Dalyria is only being kind. That she is rooting for you both despite the fact that neither of you want the same thing, that he’s not over your past-self, that the odds are so heavily stacked against you you may as well try again in your next life. But the idea of Astarion missing you sends you falling back, collapsing on your bed in a dramatic fashion.

Clutching the stone to your chest, you send one more message, “Thank you Dal. I hope I can see him again before it’s time for me to leave. Do you think I will?”

“I’ll drag him along myself if I need to. And I will definitely come by before you leave,” she replies, and you close your eyes in a mixture of relief and anticipation.

Despite all of the work you’ve done in the past several days, you miss him– more than you thought possible. More than you’ve missed anyone in this lifetime. You don’t regret a single moment of the progress you’ve made, but gods do you wish you could share it with him. He would look over your work with a ‘tsk’, maybe remind you to go get a meal before you drive him insane…

Imagining the scenario, eyes closed, laying flat on your bed, you’re struck with the stark, sad reality of it. I may never have that happen.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have asked Dal anything after all, because now you find yourself lulled into a sad daze.

The final few hours of the day are spent on daydreams of Astarion, as you futilely try to retain information on the composition of blood. When you lay in bed for your reverie, you’re unsurprised to find yourself in his arms once more.

“Astarion?” your past-self asks. You’re both in the kitchen, though it looks nothing like it does now. The walls are a different color, the table is different, shelves are stocked.

“Mmm,” Astarion murmurs, burying his head into the nape of your neck like a cuddling feline.

“What’s the matter, love?” you ask, as you prepare yourself a meal.

He shakes his head into your neck more, and you can feel your emotions surge with love and concern. “Did something happen with your siblings?”

Astarion gives a noncommittal hum, his arms squeezing around you tighter.

“I can’t help you if you won’t let me,” you say, tone chiding, but heart still full of compassion.

The man pulls his head away from you for a moment, his ruby eyes meeting yours. “Aurelia said that they’re tired of living like that. That they would never have agreed to my suggestion of the Underdark had they known…”

Your past-self takes their food off of the stove, turning around to face Astarion. “Love,” you start, hand cupping his face. “It’s not your fault. None of it is. And they know that. What would the alternative have been? Dying in Baldur’s Gate?”

He closes his eyes, leaning into your hand for solace. “I know you’re right. But…”

“But nothing,” you say, stopping him in his tracks. “We’re doing all that we can to help them, and they appreciate it. It’s simply been a difficult few weeks and they’re on edge. Once we find someplace new, everyone will sleep a little more soundly.”

Astarion sighs into your palm, pressing a light kiss to it before opening his eyes to you. “You’re right. Gods, you know how annoying it is when you’re right this often?”

“I know,” you say with a smile. You kiss him on the nose, on the cheek, on the lips as he chases your lips down. “Now, let’s find a suitable place so that everyone settles down, alright?”

The two of you sit down at the table over your meal, beginning to discuss various areas of the Underdark. You simply listen to the conversation, already knowing the outcome, knowing how close they all truly grew despite the disagreements. You also take the time to appreciate the ease of your relationship, wishing that you too could solve problems like this, with Astarion by your side.

Your ache for the man persists when you wake up, and you find that your twenty-seventh day in the house isn’t as productive as you’d like it to be.

You’re so filled with the building fear from the week. A stormy cloud hangs over you, dousing you every few minutes with thoughts that you’re about to leave, about to be tossed out unceremoniously. It’s consumed most of your waking thoughts, offering you little space to continue your work.

You were already so afraid to be left alone for the week. To think that you may never see him again, save maybe to come help his family…

What you need is to wash these thoughts away. You decide to take a long bath today, hoping beyond all hope that it will cleanse your mind. In the bath, you allow yourself a bit of pity.

Gods, I don’t want to message my parents, you think, sinking into the water. It’s the least of your concerns, really, but the easiest one for you to focus on. What will I say? Sorry, I tried, but it turns out we’re fundamentally wrong for each other?

You wince at that, scrubbing at your skin furiously to strike the thought away. No, I would say: It turns out I’m not the same person I was in my past-life. You were right all along!

The scrubbing comes harder, and your anger builds. Or maybe I’ll pin the blame on the metaphysical… My soul has a hero-complex and I don’t quite care to fix it.

You stop scrubbing. You feel almost raw, your mind suddenly blank.

No, you finally think. I shall simply tell them it didn’t work out.

With a sigh, you continue to soak for a bit, considering the far trek back to Neverwinter with a hollow dread.

After the bath, you manage to pull yourself out of your dreary state. You focus, decide to keep your mind preoccupied with the work, shoving down any Astarion-related worries until tomorrow, when they are warranted.

Right. Blood composition, you think to yourself, pulling out the notes that Leon had mentioned once more.

Rereading them, thoroughly this time, you think you know what he meant. While at its core, transmuted blood is made of all of the same things, iron, carbon… it’s lacking something that gives it life. Likely whichever bit makes people’s blood distinct from one another, you think, recalling how Astarion had commented on your flavor.

You look through the notes, trying to see if there was a way for someone to contribute that life essence, but find that nothing clear comes to mind. At the bottom, you spot in your own handwritten code a small name, “Halsin?”

It makes sense, you think. Druidic magic is different from your own, honing into the very nature of life, they can tap into magic you cannot. Perhaps you ought to pay him a visit once Astarion kicks you out…

You push that thought aside once more, trying to focus on your research. To still your mind, you think of all of the leads you’ve earned in the past week. Your memories, your past lives, Halsin, the tower. Gods, you think. I appreciate my past-self’s head start, but I wish they’d left a to-do list.

So you run through all that you know, all that you have, and all that you will need to make these mythical sunlight rings come to fruition.

You have the metals to test the crafting, and have found several good diagrams from your past-self. You have Rhapsody to work with. All that you’re missing on the material components is a vast quantity of usable blood.

You are positive now that the crafting itself is part of the somatic component, having reread Gale’s suggestions. It’s certainly where all of the materials come together, and you think you should be able to learn the process with a bit of trial and error.

You haven’t the foggiest what the incantation might be, other than in the illegible notes from the necromancer. Or worse yet, it’s back in the tower. You decide not to worry about this part until you find a wizard to help you.

Satisfied with your learnings from the week, you’re determined to begin testing materials tomorrow– maybe try to sort out Rhapsody’s composition. None of your previous life’s tests included Rhapsody, as they’d only learned of its importance after your passing, so now is as good a time as any.

That night, you enter an uneventful reverie as the enchanter. You break down a few magic items, and try to remember what you can for when it comes time to finally melt down Rhapsody.

At the end of the week, you feel like Astarion has all but given up on you.

It’s odd, but after spending nearly 28 days in his house, it feels like your house as well. You suppose you shouldn’t get attached to that idea, since the man who owns it hasn’t said a word to you in almost a week.

And not another word of him from Dal, not a message or a sign that he even cares enough to think of you. You don’t need him to love you, as you continue to remind yourself. You only wish that your time together had meant to him even a fraction of what it meant to you.

However the man is nothing if not full of ill-timed surprises.

A knock comes at your door. Likely Dal, you think. She said she would be coming by before you left.

“Come in!” you call, not bothering to move from your place on the floor. You’re in the middle of taking notes on various metals, and you think Dal will appreciate what you’ve learned so far, so what’s the point in putting anything away.

The door opens, and you look up to see a familiar, silver-haired vampire at your door. He finds you surrounded by papers, a piece of Platinum in your hand, and knee-deep in research you just know he would hate. All of the shock and embarrassment pales in comparison to the way your entire body reacts to the sight of him.

It’s only been a week days apart, and your heart seems to be beating doubly fast to make up for lost time. Was he always this beautiful?

Yes, he has always been this beautiful, your mind answers. And this charming, and this graceful, and… you cut yourself off before you can be frozen in place.

“Astarion!” you all but scream, scrambling to shuffle papers out of his view, dropping the piece of metal. You didn’t expect him, and you’re not sure what to do, but you know he wouldn’t believe that you’re up to some light reading.

“What–” Astarion begins. He shakes his head before continuing, “You know what. I don’t care about whatever it is you’re up to.”

“You don’t?” you ask, incredulous.

“No, I don’t.” His voice is deadpan, his expression blank.

“Oh. Okay.” You’re baffled. You’d thought throughout the week of what you might do if you saw him again before you’re kicked out. And it certainly isn’t what’s transpiring here. He cared a lot about this last time you saw him. “You absolutely don’t?”

“Nope, we’re going to pretend I didn’t see all of that.” He gestures at it dramatically with both of his hands. “And I’m going to continue with what I came here to do.”

“And that is?” you can’t help but ask, still subtly kicking papers under the bed, lest he change his mind.

“I came to ask you if you’d like to go to Waterdeep with me.”

You stare at him, certain that you’re hearing him wrong. This isn’t the conversation you’d expected to have the next time you saw him, not in a thousand years. You? Go with him? “To Waterdeep?”

“Yes,” he says, taking a deep breath, as if this is all quite the inconvenience for him. “I’ve always been offered a guest. I suppose it’s about time I impose on that damn wizard.”

After what had transpired between you, you’d been so prepared to be kicked out by the end of the week, this shocks you more than you expect. You’re certain your face is an open book and your voice is certainly eager when you ask, “Really?”

“Don’t make that look, or I'll regret asking at all,” he says, groaning.

You don’t know what look you’re making, but you wipe your face as much as you can before you ask, a little less hopefully, “But honestly, really, I can join you?”

“Yes,” he repeats. “But if you make me say it once more, consider the offer revoked. I expect to see you prepared for at least a few days' stay by morning or I shall leave without you. Understood?”

You tamper down the remaining urge for confirmation and nod. “Got it.”

“Very well,” he says, turning on his heel to go.

But it’s the first time in days that you’ve seen his face, heard his voice, you can’t just let him get away. “Wait, Astarion,” you call. What could you say? ‘ Sorry?’ It wouldn’t be honest. ‘Why?’ You’re afraid that the answer is just ‘Dal.’ ‘ Are we–?’ No, you’re absolutely not all better. So you simply say, “Thank you.”

He turns back to you and you get a better look at him. The expression on his face is light, unaffected, but there’s a strain to his eyes, his cheekbones look a bit more gaunt than you’re used to, and the tightness in his jaw betrays any semblance of nonchalance. “No need to thank me. I’d already been planning on inviting you.”

What? You’re about to actually ask him why when he exits your room, leaving you confused and your questions unanswered.

Aside from the elation you feel at having seen Astarion again, let alone having received an invitation from him, you’re giddy with thoughts of Waterdeep. You’ve never been before, and you will have the opportunity to meet the Gale of Waterdeep? You feel your face breaking into the same ecstatic look Astarion chided you for.

After researching the ‘useless’ formula for the ring for so many days, you want to get to the bottom of it. This is it, you think. This is my opportunity to pick Gale’s brain. Putting aside whatever it was you’d been in the middle of before Astarion arrived, you begin packing all of your notes in your Bag of Holding.

I’ll figure it all out later, you think, practically shaking with excitement. My gods, I can’t believe it. I will get to go to Waterdeep!

Before you pack the rest of your clothing, you sit down and send a message to Dal. “Dal, Astarion invited me to Waterdeep! I’ll be gone for a bit, but I think I’ll be coming back?”

She responds and you can practically hear the smile through the message. “I figured that’s why he kept me from following him. Enjoy, and we’ll see you back here soon.”

She’ll see me back here soon! you want to scream to the heavens, out the window, under the floorboards. But you don’t because you’re not about to make Astarion change his mind, and truly you’re not certain what this means for you. Until you know why he wanted to bring you to Waterdeep, then you shouldn’t assume…

That doesn’t stop you from feeling light as a feather for the rest of the day. From practically tripping over your own feet as you pack a few snacks for the road.

You don’t see Astarion for the rest of the day, but you can feel his presence in the house, as if he’s watching you make an utter fool of yourself– you find you don’t mind. As long as the house feels full of him, you continue along, a smile never leaving your face.

That night when you sit down for bed, you pull out your journal and quill with jittery, anxious hands. Your journal entry reflects your week of learnings, of fears, of excitement:

I think I’ve made some real progress! I think I know how to make the rings, but not… how to make the rings. I know the materials I’ll need, the somatic component of creation, though I am missing the actual incantation and the actual materials. Better than I would have thought after a week, but my past-self seems to be guiding my hand every step of the way.

As for Astarion, well… I don’t think we’re better per say. But I also don’t think he hates me. He invited me to go with him to Waterdeep without much explanation. Surely he wouldn’t invite me if he hated me, right? We leave in the morning. I can’t wait to meet Gale, hopefully have a chance to ask him some things. Though I suppose it may all depend on Astarion’s mood.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion masterlist #gn reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion #when he's all but forgotten how to love again #whabfhtla #reincarnation trope #elf!tav #astarion x you

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gimmethatagustd · 1 year

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keep singing this lie (teaser) | kth + jjk

Black Swan, an up-and-coming alternative metal rock band, is going on their first official tour. Jungkook looks forward to proving himself in a cutthroat industry; Taehyung looks forward to the groupies. Neither of them expects to find the comfort their hearts truly desire in one another.

↳ pairing: drummer!taehyung x singer!jungkook

↳ wc/date: 944 for teaser | chapter 1 will be posted tomorrow?? maybe??

↳ teaser warnings: references to sex between tae and a female oc | they're so soft

↳ notes: this is my first mem x mem fic, so please be nice to me 🫣 i'm nervous and shy about it. special shout out to lati @jjkeverlast for fueling my taekook obsession and encouraging me to write whatever the fuck i want

↳ main masterlist

↳ what was jai listening to? the series playlist

✨ complete this form to be added to the taglist ✨

It’s guilt making him obsess over the situation, Taehyung decides as he rubs a towel over his hair. The guilt of locking Jungkook out of their hotel room just so he could fuck a groupie when he knows the band needs rest - especially Jungkook. Being the lead singer is exhausting, even if Jungkook acts like he's fine.

Clean (in body, not in conscience), Taehyung pulls his (Jungkook’s) warm, plaid pajama pants up to sit low on his hips. He brushes away the taste of alcohol and pussy from his mouth, only realizing after he’s done that he accidentally used Jungkook’s toothbrush.

Another secret he’ll take to the grave.

By the time he’s dragging himself to his side of the bed, Taehyung still feels hot, like the shower's heat burned so deeply into his skin that he soaked it in.

Jungkook is curled on his side, facing away from Taehyung. Blue light glows across his face from his phone. Twitter. The kid has a bad habit of checking their hashtags or the tags of venues and other bands they’re performing with. It’s all a bunch of nonsense: blurry concert photos, thirst tweets, and the occasional dudebro claiming Seokjin doesn’t know shit about shredding just because he looks like a suburban dad. There’s no use trying to stop Jungkook from internalizing it all, but Taehyung isn’t the type to give up easily.

“Hey,” he whispers because the room is pitch black, and the quiet feels intimate. Intimate? Why would he use that word? “Time for bed, yeah?”

Scooting up to slot himself behind Jungkook, close but not enough for their bodies to touch, Taehyung reaches around his chest to grab his phone.

“Twitter will be there in the morning.” His voice comes out low and thick with exhaustion.

Jungkook shivers, probably from Taehyung’s breath dancing across the nape of his neck. He smells of vanilla and lavender from Jimin’s shampoo. It’s comforting, though Taehyung figures that’s why Jimin buys it. Still, the sweet, floral scent is odd coming from Jungkook, who typically wears cologne with woody notes, cinnamon, and sandalwood. They’re masculine scents that make Taehyung dizzy.

Jungkook lets out a breathy “yeah” and snuggles deeper into the blankets, hands tucked under his pillow.

“Good.” Taehyung runs his knuckles along the side of Jungkook’s face, stopping at the top of his cheekbone. His mullet is tied back in a ponytail, leaving just his wavy bangs to cascade over his brow. It’s an absentminded touch that Taehyung hardly notices.

Jungkook murmurs something Taehyung doesn’t hear and tilts his head slightly to give Taehyung more room to continue his knuckles’ path. But he’s already plucking Jungkook’s phone out of his hand.

With Jungkook’s phone secured, Taehyung rolls back to his side of the bed and plugs it in to charge for the next… three and a half hours they have to sleep. The screen lights up to reveal a selfie of the four of them - Taehyung, Jungkook, Jimin, and Seokjin - at the first gig they ever played as a band. Only three years ago, yet Taehyung smiles as though it’s a memory from a past life.

“’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Taehyung turns his head to look at Jungkook. He lets the apology bleed into the dark silence for a moment. Snippy behavior is almost always followed up by an apology from the youngest member. Taehyung never takes his outbursts personally. Too much is riding on the kid’s shoulders to ever be mad at him.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It wasn’t nice.”

The bed creaks when Jungkook rolls over to lie on his side, this time facing Taehyung. His eyes are half-closed and drooping. He’s adorable like this, like always. There’s a reason why girls swoon over Jungkook more than the other bandmates.

“I was being a dick.” If he wasn’t lying down, Taehyung would shrug. “I deserved it.”

Silence engulfs the room long enough that Taehyung assumes the younger man has fallen asleep. It isn’t until his eyes finally give in to the heaviness that Jungkook’s soft whispers glide through the quiet.

“Never a dick. Deserve good things, always, Taehyungie,” he mumbles into his pillow.

A sleepy chuckle lazes out of Taehyung’s chest. “You too, Koo.”

“Mm, g’night, TaeTae.”

Taehyung’s chest tightens when he feels fingers ghost the inside of his wrist beneath the bed sheets. He rarely initiates physical contact with anyone. It’s always Jimin enveloping Taehyung in hugs, lifting his bangs to plant sweet kisses on his forehead, squeezing his hand in reassurance during every pre-show pep talk.

Jungkook, on the other hand, hangs off of Jimin and Jin the most. Taehyung’s not sure when he and Jungkook stopped being as close as they were when the band started. But little moments like this remind Taehyung that maybe he gets in his head too much, overthinking things that aren’t even real or true.

So he spreads his fingers to allow Jungkook to lace theirs together. They’re tired, and their tour is barely a quarter of the way done. There’s still a month until Spine Breaker Fest and nearly three months of post-fest gigs.

Sometimes it’s nice to be grounded when you spend so much time with your head in the clouds, dreaming of things you may never grow tall enough to reach.

He hopes they’ll grow for Jungkook’s sake. He meant it when he said he deserves good things.

Taehyung squeezes Jungkook’s hand. His grip is loose, and Taehyung knows this means his friend has fallen asleep, but he still whispers, “Night, Koo.”

If Taehyung falls asleep to a lip piercing and a bunny smile, that’s another confusing secret to take to his grave.

SERIES MASTERLIST 🎸

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#taehyung x jungkook #taekook au #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jai writes #jungkook fluff #gimmethatagustd #kstl

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thatlongspringnight · 2 years

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Shades of Red (Vamp!Jungkook x Soft bodied!reader)

Tagging: @wwilloww @hesperantha @reliablemitten @dntaewithluv @sunshinerainbowsbts @xjoonchildx @vyduan @miscelunaaa @starlostjimin @sugalaritae @sahmfanficbts

Pairing: Vampire Jungkook/Soft Bodied reader

Rating: M for mature ;)

Genre: Smut, fluff, romance, established relationship

Warnings: Smut, cunnilingus, female receiving, blood, vampire feeding, Jk is a whiny boy and we love him for it

Summary: There are very few pleasures in this world as great and lovely as riling Jungkook up.

Word Count: 2137 Thank you to my darling @miscelunaaa for putting your magnificent orbs on this when I needed you most. Thank you to AMC for putting out a new interview with the vampire series. And thank you to JJK for deciding to put out an entire VAMPIRE THEMED PHOTO SHOOT LIKE A MAD MAN.

How his eyes shine against the ruby of the silk, an apt choice—it’s a dark musing from your position, lounging opposite of him on the chaise, sipping from the darkened wine he says makes you taste especially … divine.

Only he would give into his vanity enough to buy silken sheets the same shade as his eyes. Languidly, you reach down to pluck a grape from the silver platter … purple. Then it was good you had worn the burgundy dress this evening.

Since he so ardently was attempting to adhere to a color scheme. Reds, blacks, the deepest purples—everything as vivid a warning as a black widow before she strikes.

Yet it’s you that is smirking as you drag your finger across your tongue, savoring the sweetness—another thing he likes … when you’re sweet.

Between the two of you, you’re truly the deadly one, even if he has the fangs.

He’s watching you, gaze shifting from alluring, a look you’ve come to know all too well … to something more along the lines of petulant, something you’ve also come to know all too well, and it pleases you, watching his well-kept nails dig into those silken sheets as you grab the book sitting on the marble top side table, opening it to the spot you left off on.

How he hates it when you do this, and you have to bite back a genuine smile, and the urge to laugh, especially when he sighs, trying to play off his frustrations as desire—when the only thing he’s desiring right now is your undivided attention.

“Is something wrong, dearest?” You finally acknowledge him when he sighs again, going so far as to unbutton the already scandalously low dip of his shirt. “Are you not entertained? Should I fetch you a book?”

“No, I have no need of—of literature.” His eyes are shining, and you can feel the pull of them. “Why should I bore my fingertips with parchment when they could be trailing your skin instead?” It’s bold, meant to elicit a reaction, to tempt you to him, into his arms like a willing supplicant.

“Your pretty eyes don’t work on me, Jungkook.” You feign boredom, licking your finger to turn the page, eyes barely even skimming the words. “As haunting and desperate as they are.”

“I am not desperate!” He whines, sitting up, grabbing a pillow to hug to his form. “I’m beautiful, a darling, admired by all—”

“And desperate for my attention nonetheless.” You quash him mid-sentence. “Perhaps if you come to me as a supplicant, if you offer yourself in worship to me maybe I’ll want to play with you, maybe I’ll give you some of the attention you’re clearly thirsting for.”

“Shouldn’t you be worshiping me?” Jungkook is crawling to the edge of the luxurious bed even as he talks. “A creature of darkness, of eternal life, of power and pleasures … aren’t I the god worth worshiping?” And you laugh, languid still as you shift in your seat.

“If you wanted to be worshiped, you would have taken up with someone else, but you’re here—with me.” And for a moment you let your voice soften, knowing that more than anything what he wants is your love, your attention, your reassurance of affection. “And not out there cavorting with your brethren.” His knees have hit the ground, expensive cloth dragging as he makes his way to you till he’s crouched in front of you, in front of the chaise.

“Will you let me touch you, then?” He asks, wide eyes shining as spectacularly as the most expensive rubies. “May I worship you with my hands?”

“With your hands” you agree. “And mouth.” You tack on. “Perhaps even your teeth if your prayers are fervent enough.” And he’s groaning at that, the prospect of your blood just as delectable as what you’re asking him to do. For he does love to worship you, every piece of your lively, mortal flesh.

And God knows you have quite a canvas for him to paint in his touch, ample flesh to grip till bruising, to litter in love bites. Dimpled skin perfect for his fingertips, as he often reminds you, eyes darkened to an almost feral shade. And at this moment, you know he’s going for a place he especially loves.

“Right for my thighs?” You hum, calling him out, and his firm grip on your stockinged calves. “That’s a rather rushed trip to the altar I’d say.” It’s a tease that has him pouting, resting his chin on your knees.

“Perhaps I just want to give special attention to a particular area that should be especially worshiped—”

“You could have the decency to take off my stockings.” You roll your eyes and he flashes you a sheepish little grin, one that reveals just a little snag of sharpened tooth. Then, of course, he’s obediently doing as he’s told, undoing the ribbons that rest just above your knees, holding up the expensive stockings, smiling at the soft shade of blue.

“I was beginning to wonder if you had truly forgotten yourself and come completely in red.” He murmurs, gently sliding off your shoes, touches feather-light enough to raise goosebumps against your skin. “As flattered as I am, perhaps I think you look sweeter still in blue.” Your favorite color, the same as the softest sky. “It reminds me of when we met.” Shoes forgotten on the floor, stockings now neatly folded, his strong hands knead gently against your calves, drawing sounds from you that already qualify as indecent.

“Such a lovely little wife you’d make,” you tease him. “Folding my clothes, giving me massages—”

“Worshiping you,” he huffs, lightly pinching your ankle, just barely. “... Though—if I had to be someone’s wife, I’d like to be yours.” He kisses at the inside of your knee. Just the smoothing of his lips over your skin. You know he longs to disappear under your skirts, to have at you like a man starved. But for now, he’s taking it slow. Resting one of your heels on his shoulder as he kisses your calf, dainty little smooches growing more brazen and messy the further he works his way up.

“Ah.” Now, you’re helping him, or maybe yourself, gathering the fabric of your skirts and pulling them above your knees. Giving him a fair view of what he already knows.

That you hadn’t worn anything underneath.

“Better?” you question, but he only hisses softly, surprising you with the glint of his fangs. “Not better … ?” You’re shocked, a hand coming to card through his hair. “I suppose I can toss my skirts over your head if you’d prefer.” And you pull his hair, tipping his head back. “Or nothing at all if you’re going to be rude.” At that the feral glint in his eyes fades, just a bit.

“I’m sorry.” He rubs his cheek on your thigh. Your legs already parted for him. “I got carried away, I was so focused … you startled me,” he admits, reminding you again, that as pretty as he is, he’s still a vampire at the end of the day … and could drain you dry if he lost control.

Well, not quite, you think to yourself, you always have some tricks up your sleeve. Still—it would be a thoroughly unpleasant experience that would leave him in tears, reminded of your mortality—and how fragile you are, and feeling guilty about his nature.

“Try not to bite the hand that feeds you.” You settle on, stroking his cheek gently. “I want to watch you.”

“Well what I want—” Jungkook says, as though he’s been asked. “Is for you to be naked. Completely so.” His hand is on your bodice, intention more than clear.

“Jungkook—” you warn. “This outfit is expensive.”

“And it’s too red,” he declares, like you hadn’t gone through the trouble of matching his aesthetic. “I appreciate how you look … in my bedroom, but against your skin it’s too much like blood.”

“Isn’t that what you want from me? My blood?” you ask, earning a very fussy looking frown.

“I want so much more than that, and you know that.” Jungkook’s eyes narrow, and you resign yourself, knowing you’ve damned yourself to nakedness with your teasing.

“Fine, my love, but I only brought one outfit,” you warn, which only makes him laugh.

“As though I don’t have clothes for you here?” Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow, and there it is—the tear of cloth echoing in the room as he literally rips open your dress, and the layers beneath, leaving you bare and exposed in the darkened room.

“I hope you’re suitably proud of yourself,” you sigh, shrugging off the material as he grins happily from the spot he’s retaken on the floor. “Little demon.”

“I am.” Those strong hands are back on your legs, pulling them to part, so that he can sit between them, pressing a kiss to the roll of your stomach, rubbing his cheek against the soft flesh. “You’re so warm.” It’s pleasure, the sound on his lips as his hands go back to making indents in your thighs, as his head dips lower. “And here … so hot.” He has no sense of shame when it comes to your body. Seeking out the heat of your center, but still—still not giving you what you need, choosing instead to use his tongue for evil. To press kisses everywhere but where you want his mouth, his lips.

“Jungkook—”

“I’m worshiping you.” He cuts off your complaint before you can even make it. “Taking it slow just like you had foolishly requested.” Damn him for using your words against you, littering your inner thighs with love bites, promises of where he’d like to feed from you later on. Every so often there is a ghost of a touch to your core, tongue flicking against your clit, enough to set you on edge.

So you sigh, trying to feign boredom, going so far as to relax your body, lightly stroking at his hair. Humming a soft little tune that makes him grumble; his eyes meet yours, with an indignant sparkle.

“Hm?” And you’re grinning. “What’s that look for?” But he doesn’t say anything, shifting forward so—

Well … so he can give you what you want. Mouth around your pearl, and it’s hot, the way he sucks at it, his fingers coming to slide inside of you while you’re lost in the feeling of his mouth. “Ngh—Ah! J-Jungkook!” Now this, this is what you want, with his arms around your thick thighs, and your knees resting on his shoulders.

He eats you out like a man starved, and perhaps he is … starved of your attention from tonight’s teasing, eager to get back at you by tasting you on his tongue, by having you lose yourself to him.

Your grip in his hair tightens, your hips shifting to meet the thrust of his fingers as your eyes squeeze shut. He—he is skilled in your body, time has given him that, and he loves to learn. Every spot that makes you shudder, he’s found and memorized. Every way to crook his fingers and draw pleasure—

As he does now. And you don’t even bother to try and stifle the pleasured keen that leaves your lips.

He plays you like a musical instrument, like you’re his favorite piece—a song at its crescendo. Till you’re crashing around him, his name a dreamy sigh, as tense muscles slacken.

As he lifts his face up, mouth glistening with your essence. He is so beautiful, covered in the remnants of your pleasure, it makes you feel weak.

Weak for him.

“C-can I?” And before he can finish, you’re pushing his head down, letting him sink his fangs into your thigh—drawing a moan turned whimper from you, as a different kind of high takes over. That light, dreamy feeling—someone had once told you a vampire feed was like the most delicious opium, a soaked poppy dripping down your throat.

“Ah … Ngh … Jungkook—” And about the time you say his name, he takes the hint, quick to pull away, lapping at the wounds until the bleeding stops, until there is naught but bruised skin their stead. “Are you content ...?”

“You know I’m far more than that.” He’s resting his head on your thigh. And he rubs his cheek against your skin when you go back to playing with his hair.

“You’re right, you’re my spoiled little prince.” You are happy—happy at how he shifts to nip at your fingers, before wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you, face pressed against the soft flesh of your stomach.

“Still, at least I’m yours.”

“Mine to take to bed,” you promise. “Now. To destroy your sheets like you did my dress.”

#btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook prompt #plus size reader #jjk fic #soft bodied reader #jjk vampire #jungkook vampire

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devil-on-acid · 1 year

Text

The Heart of Eywa Chapter 1: First Connection

Genre: Thriller/Isekai/Fantasy/Sci-fi

No Pairings yet

Word count: 3396

Pilot

Sypnosis: a Regular teenager get transported to the world of her obsession in her dreams, but upon arriving there she never could have thought the possibility of it being real and not just in her head. She could never have anticipated what she would feel and discover. why was she here ?

A/n: here i am finally with the official chapter 1. Sorry that it took so long since i posted the pilot. I need to mention i am a fulltime art student so i’m usually busy or too exhausted. When i write i try to make each chapter as vivid as possible so i really have to take my time to use the right words and to decide the pace of the chapter. I really wanna post a high quality story. Once again English is not my first language so my vocabulary is still improving. Let me know you thoughts and any ideas in the comments. I would love to hear them (same goes for feedback) for now i hope you enjoy this first chapter. 😊

ps. if you wanna be tagged for upcoming chapters let me know in the comments ^^

(y/n) Pov

Previously

Meanwhile the girl was still drifting, unaware that she was being watched. Shock settling into her body as she was still accepting and processing what happend to her. All that matters now is staying alive long enough to find the only people she might know, the Omaticaya.

It took me only 10 min before i could hear the sounds better, the river water drifting down stone. I sped up my pace now. And soon i reached the river. The water was so clean i could see right through it to the bioluminescent water plants at the bottom. I hastly scooped up water to drink from, the thirst coming back to me now. putting some water on my face i feel a lot less faint but i was still getting tired. Shutting my eyes for a second to blink properly i look at my surroundings again. The small river has a stone wall where the water came from like a small waterfall. Insects are even louder in this area. Always hearing a nice buzzing of some sort of cricked, and occasionally birds. All around me the bioluminescence was bright. Lighting up the entire river area. I started to wonder towards everything. I mostly have questions that i don’t know who to ask. ‘’why am i here ?’’

‘’how am i here ?’’

I didn’t know what to do or if i even have to do anything. The only chance of survival i have is finding a clan, but Omaticaya is the only clan where i know i might talk my way out of getting killed. Watching so many fantasy and action movies can teach you some skills in speaking differently then you do. I can only speak a few words na’vi and that wasn’t enough. Speaking English is the only option. Na’vi are extremely bright, they learn English faster then someone can teach them.

It might be my only option to avoid getting killed by them. They are fiercely protective and loyal to eachother, they don’t trust easily. Especially after what the Sky People did to them and their world. Whether that is still in motion or already passed is another thing i wondered and remember it for the next time i might figure it out.

I decided i am too tired to move right now. But i can’t stay here for too long. ‘’i guess i can just take a little nap right ?’’ i thought to myself. A little away from the water in the shadow of some plants i lay down on the soft moss and close my eyes. Focusing on the sounds around me. I was laying comfortably on the ground on my back. Like the feeling of coming home and dropping into your bed after a long day of work. The backache from stress lessening and disappearing every minute. My thoughts are blank, which surprised me. Most people would be having racing thoughts. Especially about home, in my situation in particular. Do my parents know i’m gone ? or has nothing changed while i’m here ? is there still a possibility this is all a deep comatose sleep ?. I do have these thoughts, but they don’t bother me. It feels like time has stopped moving both here and back home.

After what felt like an hour or longer of laying there, unable to fully fall asleep i decide to move forward. Looking around me to make sure i’m in the clear i slowly let myself sit upright. I feel dizzy. In a way it feels like i’m under the influence of something. Standing up i almost have to sit back down but keep myself grounded looking for anything to hold onto. Getting lightheaded while standing up is not going to help me right now. Walking along following the river i the area cleared a bit with less plants to avoid. The soft moss underground all i felt that ripples with light every step i made. The noises in my ears started to become stronger. it felt like i could hear the noises like ripples in my body, as if music was in the back of my head. I can hear people talking in an undetectable language, children laughing, people singing. it was keeping me on edge. But also grounded to the earth.

After only minutes of walking i felt hopeless already. I was so dizzy my head started to spin, looking at my feet and the ground and taking a deep breath i hope for the spinning to fade away. after looking at the ground for a minute i looked back up and almost stepped back. Right in front of my face was an atokirina. It’s light movements like a small jellyfish or a dandelion seed in the wind. A faint light comes from it as it moves over my shoulder and gets close to my hair. Mesmerished i keep my eyes on it. it didn’t move from my shoulder. Looking up into the sky i was hyptonized by what i saw. Hundreds of atokirina are floating down from the top of the forest . atokirina are signs for the na’vi. A pure spirit to give them a message or quide their path.

I was paralyzed in my movement, i didn’t dare take another step. Reaching out the atokirina softly floated down to cover my hands and arms. More of them placing themselves on my chest and my head, softly tickling my skin. I look behind me to the other sprites floating behind me. They connected to my shoulder and my back mimicking a cape in the motion of a wave. The sounds i hear become stronger and stronger. the voices overwhelm my senses. The sounds of nature mixing and harmonizing with them. My sight was starting to become blurry. I try to blink to focus but it didn’t help, it only made it worse. My mind keeps spinning and spinning. I can’t stand without having to balance my weight. i feel so tired i stopped fighting and let it overwhelm me. In less then a second i can feel my eyes roll back into my head and falling back to the ground. But before i feel the impact everything goes black.

Third POV

This could mean only one thing, a sky demon invading into their land. No matter how outnumbered the demon was it was still a cause of concern in the mind of the na’vi hunter. As quiet as he could go he ran to his ikran in a hurry, making Tsaheylu and flying back to the village. He knew where the sky demon was headed and he wasn’t far from the village, if he was fast enough he could warn the other warriors and the Olo'eyktan about this and they would be back before she drifted to far from this part of the forest.

The Hunter was able to reach the village in a mere 10 minutes of flying. Landing his Ikran upon the branches of a tree, many more trees around it connected by long green vines serving as a pathway between the tents and little homes build around him. As he got off his ikran he could hear the gentle singing of people and drums playing music a little down below, where many of the omaticaya where eating communally around a big bonfire. Climbing down from the tree to one of the lower and larger tents he looks for his fellow hunters and the Olo'eyktan. People greet him and he greets them back without betraying the the urge and panic he feels. As he approached the leader he crouches down next to him greeting him formally.

“oel ngati kameie Jake Sully. I need a word with the Olo'eyktan, it’s urgent.’’

Jakes eyes widened in alarm for a split second before composing his face. It wasn’t often one of the hunters or clan people had an emergency or something urgent to tell him. After spending years with his people as their clan leader he learned about their behaviour and was better able to read their emotions and was able to make opinions about the situations going on around them. The look on the hunters face gives jake a sense of worry. Which didn’t happen often.

the na’vi was feeling a mixture of shock, fear and anger under the surface of a calm face. But Jake could see right through him, he knew better. His body language was stiff and panicked. Jake conteplated what had the hunter in such a state and he needed to know more immidiatly. Jake stood up passing one look to his mate who sat a little further away with the tsahik.

‘’come with me’’ he said as he walked a little further tot he side of the large tent so they could speak in whispers.

‘’speak calmly, what is wrong ? the look on your face troubles me’’

‘’while out hunting i saw something that shouldn’t be possible. I saw a dreamwalker, a sky demon’’

Jake was immidiatly alarmed. the skypeople are back ? since when. How can this have happend without his knowledge.

‘’a dreamwalker ?, are you sure about this. Did you recognise the avatar ? are you sure it wasn’t one of the scientists ?’’

‘’she’s not familair to us, we don’t have any children avatars from the humans.’’

‘’She ?, it was a girl ?’’

‘’yes Olo'eyktan, a young girl, a mere child.’’

Jake was confused by all means the scientists have no one except for Spider when it came to children, and no other than Norm and a few others had their own avatar. But they are all adults. Unless the RDA succeeded in making a young/child avatar.

A different scenario : this is a young girl from another tribe who is completely lost. But that would be an unlikely thing. He also trusted in the hunters and the other Na’vi. They can immidiatly tell who is and who is and who isn’t a sky person, even if you took the physical aspect of the avatar away. The 5 winger and eyebrows, they can always tell. It was something Jake as a former avatar wasn’t able to sense.

Then there was the worts scenario : The skypeople have returned to Pandora, How is the question. If any spaceship comes in Pandora’s orbit they would’ve seen it sooner, they would’ve seen a new star in the night.

‘’Have you told this to anyone else ?’’ Jake asked.

‘’No, Sir’’

Gather a group of hunters, bring them together at the totem. Do so quickly and calmly. I don’t anyone question what is happening.

With that he sent the hunter on his way to gather the others. Meanwhile he walked back to his mate who was currently giving out food to their children and feeding their 2 year old baby. As he came closer his children as wel as his mate looked at him expectantly, turning towards him or looking up at him. As Jake stood before them he crouched down to properly speak to her and silently observe then infant she cradles in her arms.

‘’Ma Jake ?’’ is all Neytiri needed to ask. She knew the look on her mates/husbands face, she could tell he was holding back from telling her something. The worry and confusion starting to become visible on her face.

‘’Ma Jake, what is happening ?’’

‘’Me and a group of hunters are gonna gather at the Totem, i need you there.’’

‘’is there something wrong dad ?’’ his 13 year old Daughter asks. Kiri was looking at her father with wide curious looking eyes. Usually he would expect this question from Lo’ak, but this time it came from Kiri.

‘’No there is nothing wrong babygirl, can you and Neteyam take care of your siblings and go to Grandmother. Me and your mother have something to discuss.

Rectuantly the children all gathered and stood up, taking their food with them to finish with the tsahik. Lo’ak turned before walking with them conteplating to ask his father questions, but the look Jake gave him told him no in an instant. This was absolutely no good time. So he stays quiet and goes with his siblings, Neytiri still holding small Tuk stands straight and determinded, Like a proud mother ready to protect as she looks back at him.

‘’twawne, what is happening ?’’

Jake looks back to her trying to calm his expression for what he was about to tell her.

‘’they, the hunters, saw a dreamwalker, not one of our own.’’

Neytiri looks at Jake with shock written on her face. From all the things she was expecting him to tell this was not one of them. But her shock from this knowledgequickly turned into frustration and anger.

‘’what are they ? is it the skypeople ? are they back ?’’ ‘’they never should have dared to return’’

Before she could say more Jake cuts her of without angering her more.

‘’We don’t know who they are or how they came here. Appareantly they are alone, but we don’t know if more are out there. A hunting party and me will go out to track her, they we’re spotted not far from here’’

Neytiri looks Jake in thee yes with determination, her voice not wavering or stuttering for even a second.

‘’I am coming with, i need to see this demon for myself’’

‘’Neytiri, this could be a trap, we don’t kniow how many there are or what they have, we need to be carefull about this’’

Neytiri didn’t back down ‘’i am coming, you can’t convince me otherwise. We’ll track the demonand stop them from coming here. Especially this close tot he village.’’

Jake recuantly agrees, Neytiri is a fierce warrior. Nothing will stand in her way or hold her back. She can handle herself.

‘’okay, but i have to tell the people over at the lab and warn them, or at least Norm and Max.’’

‘’you want to involve the humans again ? they’ll only be in our way.’’

‘’no they won’t, i make sure of that. They can help us. We just need to warn them for any possible outcome. I’m gonna as kif they might have a theory or have picked something up at the lab. See if they may have a clue on how they’ve gotten here.’’

With that Jake hoped Neytiri would agree with his choices, her and Jake never always saw eye to eye with some things involving leading the tribe. But whatever happens they still trusted eachother. Mo’at still being the Tsahik often agreed with Jake.

‘’i’ll inform the Tsahik, Go and prepare. I want this over with quickly’’

with that she walked away towards the Tsahiks tent to drop of Tuktirey for bed and inform het mother of the situation. Hoping everone who will come with the hunters remains uninjured.’’

Jake went tot he Totem to inform the warriors/hunters of the planand prepare. This needed to be done carefully and silently. They’ll track down and observe the dreamwalkerand see if she has any contact with anyone outside the forest. Adrenaline shot trough his body prepared for anything that could happen.

-----

‘’Norm, Norm do you read me ?’’

The radio comes to life with it’s spheric static noises. A few seconds went by before the radio picked up a reply.

‘’Jake, i’m here i read you. Is everything alright ? you hardly ever use the radio, what’s going on?’’

Norm, i need you and maybe max or someone else to check anything you can off the satelites still working. See if something came into Pandora’s orbit. Or try to see if you pick up any signals unfamilair to us. Anything like a habsite or a ship.’’

‘’Whoah, whoah, slow down. You want us to look for any unusual activity ? what for. Did you find something?’’

‘’Or someone’’ Said Jake. The radio went silent for a second, the words he said came out quick and without thinking.

On the other end of the radio Norm sat in the lab at the remains of Hells gate. He was still awake in his human form to look at samples he picked up earlier in the day. Now listening to what Jake called him for. It wasn’t unusual to hear the radio every once in a while come to life. Wheter it be random static noises or Jake calling in to check up on everyone if he was too busy to stop by. And he usually was. What was unusual is for hi mto call upon them this late at night.

‘’wait Jake i couldn’t hear you, can you repeat that.”

‘’i said…..i said we didn’t find something we found someone. we found a dreamwalker, potentionally.’’

‘’wait, there is a avatar out there, are you sure?’’

‘’well i wasn’t the one that found it, or sa wit. One of the hunters did.’’

Jake had to start thinking of a plan, what if there really was an avatar walking in the forest right now. What do they do ? kill them on site?. There should be another way, he still needed answers. And now whether he had to or not the scientists would be involved.

Norm was silently having a whirlwind of thoughts running trough his brain.

‘’Norm you still with me’’ Jake asked

‘’sorry, yes i hear you, i was…thinking for a second’’

‘’Norm. Can you only inform max and whoever needs to know about this. I don’t wanna cause unnecessary panic if it is a false alarm. A hunting part is going to follow this ‘someone’ they found, i’m going with them. But i need a favor’’

‘’thats the first time you ever asked for a favor, but yeah how can i help?’’ Norm questioned, he had a theary what Jake was up to but he would let him do the talking for now. Still too preocupied with his thoughts to start arguing with someone’’

‘’if there is an dreamwalker alone, i need to get them to Hells gate. We can keep them there, we can’t let them know where the village is’’

‘’then why do you want them here ? they’ll know where we are, what the thinking ?’’ Norm said as he contignues

‘’I don’t think the’ll be much better of here’’

‘’no they are. We need to keep them isolated to confuse them, not knowing where they are is the best option to pin them down.’’ Jake trows back

‘’Well, you’ll need to get them to a holding cell further inside the buildings we don’t use. But how do you even wanna get them here.’’

‘’the hard way i figured’’

‘’Jake, don’t do something unnecessarily stupid’’

‘’Can’t promise anything at this point’’

‘’Okay i’ll inform Max and the others’’

‘’Thank you Norm’’

Jake then ended the radio call. He needed to get the other hunters ready to depart. They couldn’t wait another second.

i can’t see, i can’t hear. All i see is blackness. No colors or images and no dreams. The lack of sound was giving a tingling sensation in my head. Occasionally i could hear a peep on one side of my head and it fades few seconds after. I don’t know where i am, or what is going on.

I turn and turn in the hopes of seeing anythng in the distance but the blackness was messing with my sense of direction. A cold wind comes from behind me and my first instinct is to wrap my arms around me and sit down, curling myself up shielding my body from the cold. turning to look where the wind came from it starts to get warmer. when i face behind me a bright light blinds me from under me. glowing gold and orange like the sun and warming my body. As i try to open my eyes my sight is still completely blinded. It felt like i couldn’t choose between waking up or staying asleep.

I can faintly start to feel the sensations of my body again. A pressure or support under my knees and spine, my head falls back too tired to support my neck. As i faintly hear some voices around me all the sounds completely stop again giving back the tingling sensation in my head. And the loop starts all over again. Trying to see, hear and feel.

Tag list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @lovelyygirl8 @ambria @lainekyuu @meobvii

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