#idk why i turned so sentimental

[wolfram-but-art]

Your art is food.

let him cook now I SAID LET HIM COOK!!!

[wizardsix]

it's fun to look through datamined stuff but I need some of you to stop getting mad at larian for scrapping ideas you thought were cool. cool doesn't mean it'll make sense in the overarching story, and maybe larian likes this version better, or sometimes ideas just didn't work well with what they had in mind. I know this first hand from writing stories, I'll have cool ideas but realize later it doesn't fit the original tone of the story. it's okay to scrap stuff, but you can always use it for something else.

also, like it or not, it's larians game first, their story, their characters (I know.), it doesn't matter if we think something is cool, the reality is that not everything works in the end. and that's fine. that's how all art is, it's alive and ever-shifting, it'll go through many, many, versions, to the point where you might get sick of chewing on the same plot, and in the end the final version might not be as good as you thought when you look back in a few months or years. and that's ok. art isn't supposed to be perfect.

everything is subjective and I think fandoms would be a more intellectual place if people learned to critique art for what it is not what it isn't.

[10000-paper-nohara-rins]

It's late. Even underground, in the winding labyrinth of tunnels beneath Konoha where no natural light falls, Danzo can tell. There's a scent to the air.

Normally, he works through these quiet hours with the same dedication that he carries at all times. Tonight, however, his stacks of paperwork have all been meticulously combed through, signed, and filed. No one needs his attention. Nothing is wrong.

Danzo picks up his cane and begins the trek back to his old clan compound. He does not visit often. He is usually busy. He is not busy tonight.

His bones ache with a sort of weariness that denotes no real problem. He has learned to ignore this sort of pain. He ascends out of the tunnels, not bothering to muffle the sound of his footsteps with chakra.

He does not blink when he comes out to Konoha's streets. It is just as dark out here as it was in the tunnels. It is late out. A glance at the thin, crescent moon puts the time somewhere around 1.

Danzo makes his way past shopfronts, apartments, and fields. His memory of the layout of the village is annoyingly spotty. The streets have changed too much since the Kyuubi's attack, and he does not spend much time in them.

He walks past Hokage tower. The light in Hiruzen's office is on, casting a dim, yellow glow into the air. Danzo does not stop to see him. Soft, tender moments would ruin the sparks between them. He cannot think of anything more unappealing than stopping to relearn everything about the man who puts poison in his tea once a week.

He used to know Hiruzen. It was a mistake. A good shinobi does not have time for sentiment. Teamwork is a strength- relationships are weaknesses.

He wanders the streets for what seems like an eternity, a ghost in the village he has given and will give everything for. He does not regret it. He does not regret anything. He has done everything right.

Like the dull, distant pain in his hip, something tugs at his gut. Danzo ignores it. He knows what he is protecting. He knows why he does the things he does. He does not regret it.

He does not look back at the light in Hiruzen's office. The hair on his neck prickles- he can feel Hiruzen's gaze, how it carefully avoids him, observing the street around him, but not Danzo. A good shinobi has no time for sentiment. Hiruzen may be starting to fall apart in his old age, but lessons he learned alongside Danzo decades ago still stick to him like wet, rotting leaves.

Danzo finds his way to the Shimura Compound. There are heaps of fertilizer sitting in the garden, ready to be mixed into the soil. The smell of rotting leaves dances around the smell of the night. Crickets, hiding in bushes of nightshade, chirp a quiet, steady song.

The siding of the buildings in the compound is all pristine, brown and orange and achingly unfamiliar. Danzo knows how to ignore aches that do not matter. There are twelve in total, each housing one or two families. Danzo knows every name and face of his clan. He has met sparingly few of them.

He does not miss them. He does not miss the way he used to live. He creeps into the house in the center of the compound, past the rooms where the clan head and her four nephews sleep, into his old, dusty office. He will rest here, for the night, only because there is nothing else for him to do.

Danzo reaches across old scraps of paper with shaky writing and sloppy drawings and turns on his old lamp. A dim, yellow glow fills the room. He leans back in his chair. His hip aches. His hands shake. He does not regret anything, but quietly, because there is nothing else to do, he allows himself to feel very, very bad.

The lamp burns, and the leaves rot, and the crickets chirp. Dim yellow light slips through the window and paints stripes through the garden of poisonous plants. Danzo rests, and lets himself ache, and the night drags on.

[magentagalaxies]

i feel like a lot of activism these days is way too "aesthetically pleasing". like i understand why infographics look like that so their information is clear and easily understandable to people encountering it for the first time but idk i just feel very alienated by posts about trans activism and mental health awareness that are using the same visual language as makeup ads and corporate powerpoints. give me my messy diy "fags supporting dykes" punk signs back idc if it makes it more uncomfortable to put on your instagram story

[satoruhour]

i need jealous racer geto hes js so whudurieiw and the way u write about himm🤭🤭

LUVRGIRL

a/n: eeuuughh idk whether to like this or not but enjoy nonetheless !!! not so much of racing but the sentiment is there lol. previous part (lloromannic) here / @screampied @kizoken @t4kio @redskyvenus @mysugu @suguruplsr @slttygeto ✶

wc: 6.3k

warnings: racer!geto, soft dom!geto, fem!reader, sprinkle of fluff, pet names, praise, ldr, phone sex, masturbation (both f and m), fantasising, daisuke is being annoying again!!!!, sorta jealousy plot point, brief dry humping, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, fingering, unprotected p -> v sex, breeding / creampie kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

the next six months were torture, indefinitely. it was an endless heap of assignments, of deadlines, of long-distance calls with your love that you both were so close to booking flights of your own. university was brutal, too. on top of tuition fees and getting the materials for your classes, it was heart-wrenching to even look at the prices of the flights from your country to japan, so you bit down your pride and subjected yourself to settling for the long-distance arrangement.

“hey, baby,” geto mumbles sleepily and your frown deepens upon forgetting that tuesdays was where he slept early. you still had to call, though, but you realise it too late when he answers with that groggy, raspy voice of his. there’s some ruffling behind the call, no doubt the sounds of his bedsheets as he gets himself comfortable while you huddle at the small nook of your room that’s next to the window.

from here you can see the sun setting, a totally different story in japan where you can hear geto yawn and down a glass of water next to his bed.

“shit . . sorry su, i forgot—”

he scrambles to reassure you, awake and sat up, “no! no— no, it’s okay . .” you wince when you hear him yawn yet again, but this time he sounds a little more in the realm of consciousness. you’re unaware of the smile forming on his face just from hearing your voice, fidgety fingers squeezing and releasing the duvet over him, “what are you up to, my love?”

you hum into the phone and you’ve never wanted to backpack across the seven seas to see someone so bad before. now on month nine, your excitement’s become even more prominent at wanting to end the semester as soon as possible, willing your lips not to mutter out the arrangement you’ve been planning with his group of friends.

“just needed a break from studying for finals. i’m dying,” you lament over the line and your heart flutters at his chuckle, something you miss against your ears and skin immensely, “just wish you were here . .”

“yeah?” and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and rub your thighs together at the soft, rough yeah he mumbles out. you can imagine it too: sitting against his headboard half-naked while the duvet pools around his waist area. he’s sitting there like plaster sculpted by Monti while his hair flows around him. you almost squeal and your boyfriend only catches just the start of it.

“what? what was that?” he asks and your hand is clasped so hard over your mouth like a captor’s got your hostage, but you only let out a breath.

“n-nothing,” you laugh, picking yourself up from the nook and getting yourself comfortable in bed. it’s been a long day of studying, anyway, and your next exam isn’t until five days later. you could afford some downtime, right?

“but,” you sigh, turning on your side and sneakily slipping a hand into your pants, “my day’s boring. it’s all studyin’. why don’t you tell me what you did today, instead?” you can hear your parents already preparing dinner outside, but you press on and try to drain out the intrusive noises of cutlery and porcelain and the incessant calls of your mom to your dad for some help on the stove. 

“alright,” he drags the word out and laughs again, getting comfortable in his bed just like you do, but your end goals are entirely different, “but it is pretty boring as well. it was maintenance day today.”

“oh!” you remember him briefly mentioning that the other day — since halloween was approaching, there was bound to be more patrolling policemen around the streets and underground, so races had to be put on hold for the meantime. there was still other more secluded areas to race, but geto didn’t want to risk his Mazda being taken away nor for a stain to appear on his clean academic record.

“changing the crankshaft? i know the old one was giving you loads of trouble,” you mumble, feeling your cunt pulse and throb from the breathing you can hear over the line, “among . . other things.”

“yeah, my baby’s so smart for remembering, huh?” he praises, continuing to go on about his day. while it was merely taking-care-of-his-car day, it was still way more eventful than yours. he had went on a solo day out to your beloved café to relish in the good times, he had hung out with gojo for a while and drank some beer atop the mountain they frequented, even went out for some arcade fun.

“unfortunately—” geto’s low voice spurs you on. you’ve been lazily rubbing at your pussy, just humming into the phone while you only descend more and more into pleasure, “it’s taken a hole out of my allowance, i guess. my dad’s more generous with the parts that he gives me but at the same time i feel like he knows what i’m doing underground.”

he laughs and you fake a giggle, but your breaths are starting to get heavier with each sentence he utters, mind filling with flashbacks of how many ways he’s bent you over to fuck you, drunk on the phantom-like winds upon your ear that sound like he’s whispering all those filthy things to you. “and . . just missin’ my girl.”

“how’ve you been, baby?” he asks with a low voice, like he knows what you’re doing and the term of possession only has you sucking in a breath, fingers slip inside you after possibly a decade of teasing and you find it hard to answer. “darling?”

“y-yeah, ’m still here,” you pant out, afraid of being caught, but your voice quivers enough just for geto to catch on to what you were up to. he didn’t fault you, though (he never blames his girl), but there is a small smirk that forms on his face. he purposely lowers his voice even more, if it was possible, mirroring and mimicking your breathy tone when talking to him.

but with one hand that goes down to his pelvis, he doesn’t have to mimic you at all, hand palming languidly at his bulge. in the dead of the night, there wasn’t much need to keep his voice down in order to hear the pretty moans falling from your mouth; he does anyway.

it’s too shitty of a reception especially with your nokia’s, so he hears the artificial, metallic-like voice coming from his phone, but your sounds are just too lovely, transcending the robotic-ness of a phone call. and it’s like you’re actually there, smiling mischievously at him while stroking his cock and teasing him the way he liked to be teased.

“s-sugu?” you mumble, mind heading into the extremes and confident now that he’s just weirded out and silent, but it’s anything but that.

“yes, baby?” he hums, smiling to himself when he hears rustling over the phone and he can imagine you lifting your hips to remove your panties, tossing it somewhere across the room. “wanna tell me what you’re doin’?” 

you suck in a breath — so he knows — but suguru always knows everything so you’re whining into the receiver, pleasantly surprised when he replies with a deep groan that only makes you clench around nothing.

“that’s right . .” he drawls and you hear a soft thud over the line, and now you’re the one quieting your movements just to hear your boyfriend, the faint shlick shlick sounds of his hand along his cock. geto gasps when he squeezes his tip just like how you do it, pre-cum starting to leak. “need you h-here, doll . .”

you mewl softly and start the hand on your clit again, abandoning the tight hold around your phone just so you can use the other to slip your fingers into your warm cunt. it doesn’t even compare to the thickness and length of geto’s dick, but you have to work with what you have. with head turned toward the speaker, your boyfriend has gone non-verbal, too, moaning like a slut into the receiver.

“suguru, i’m— please . .” you whine softly, hips bucking into your hands, “doesn’t feel as g— good.”

geto coos inwardly at your needy voice, mouth falling open at his rock hard cock. it’s so hard that it hurts, left to merely fuck his fleshlight whenever he could and use his hand on other days. he missed your sweet fucking pussy so, so much, just picturing your beautiful arched back that lifts off the sheets and your shaking thighs. he imagines your perfect pout on your face as you finger yourself, unsatisfied, obviously, begging him with tugs to his hands and his eyes flutter close.

“i know, baby, and ’m sorry,” he mumbles, taking the nokia from his ear to put it right up to his relentless pumping and you swallow, the slick, wet sounds more clear now. “but you hear what ya do t’me, don’t you?”

“mhm . .” you trail off, thinking of his fat cock impaling you instead, and you follow his actions to a T, bringing it right to your sopping cunt and geto has to scrunch his already shut eyes just to wish that his hand was your pussy. your hand is getting tired, he’s sure, but you finger yourself so prettily his hand easily speeds up, giving his shaft periodic squeezes.

“so wet, suguu . .” you drag out his name, already feeling your high approach soon, but you want the both of you to cum together. “i miss you stretchin’ me out . .” a hiss from suguru, “i miss your cum spilling out of me.”

that has geto choking out a whine, “f—fuck, sweetheart, don’t say that. i do miss g-giving you all of my cum—”

the filthiness of everything contributes to all your senses, parents omitted from memory, your finals at the back of your mind and only focusing on the envelope that resides on your bedside table containing a plane ticket. in one week you’d be able to see him again — a sweet treat given to you by gojo and nanami with their combined expenses.

you didn’t even know how you could thank them and while nanami waves you off for any payback, gojo did say you could treat him to anything in that café. it was difficult not to be excited, a louder whine drawn from your throat again and he laughs breathlessly, voice down low and distraught.

“any particular reason w-why my girl’s so needy lately—?”

geto basically chokes out his question while you shake your head until you remember that he can’t see you, answering with a broken “no”.

you resist the urge to spill on the exact reason — your mind spiralling from the anticipation of meeting him, the many, many lewd memories you’ve made over six months, his just-woken-up voice — because he’d never let you live it down.

“c-close, suguru—” your thighs are squeezed tight around your tired hand, sensitive from the immense overstimulation, “’m g’nna cum soon—!”

“me too, my love,” geto’s eyes are back open, trained on his cock and watching the sheer neediness shown in his weeping tip and bucking hips. he needs this, he needs you, and once you’re submitting your final paper, he’s sure to look at flights right to your doorstep.

“i’m c—” you’re whining out, body totally turned over and lying on your stomach as you chase your high, fuelled by the deep guttural groans of your boyfriend. your lips and mind are only filled with suguru, suguru, suguru, not even caring that your sheets are soaked and your fingers are cramping.

“baby, baby, baaaby . . s—shit—” geto reaches his release first, mind filled with replenished memories of your tight pussy hugging his cock, spurts of white spilling all over himself with a loud groan and you’re left to listen out for the desperate sounds of your boyfriend miles away, lengthening his climax as he continues to pump himself. “cum all over your fingers, doll . .”

suguru coaxes in that sweet voice of his, mumbling deep into the phone only for you. “doing so, so good, aren’t ya?” the quietness on his end, the slow lazy stroking of his hand again, and you’re cumming all over your fingers, eyes blown wide from the orgasm that he talks you through while you ride it out on your mediocre fingers. your mouth is stained with endless profanities and moans mixed with geto’s name, muffled by the bedsheets you’re so harshly biting into to prevent any loud, unbecoming sounds.

“that good?” he asks with a laugh, yawning yet again and you feel guilty again—

“i’m sorry, s—”

“no. don’t, doll, don’t apologise,” suguru brushes his thumb over his thigh, partially wiping off the cum and partially hoping he can relax the furrow of your brow like he always does. “you’re frowning and your shoulders are up, probably, relax . .”

you sigh, another thing that geto values a lot and has taught to you; deep breaths and untensing all parts of your body.

“good girl, was that good?”

“the phone sex or the deep breaths?”

geto grins. god, he missed you so fucking much — “both.”

“both was very good, thank you very much,” you giggle, not paying much mind to the way you remove your fingers from your cunt, turning over to the bedside table to take some tissues, “although the sex was a little better.”

“aw, no wins for the intense, groundbreaking, spirit-calming deep breaths?”

you shake your head (you’ve got to stop doing that), “ehh . . it was alright.”

geto’s reluctant sleepiness grants you a few more minutes together, his words starting to slur more and more the longer you were on the line, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy it. with fatigue came the words laced with unhindered affection, murmuring softly about hoping to see you soon, to feel you, to kiss you, and you expressed the same sentiment back to him.

the other switches the output to speaker, wanting to take in the messily taken profile pic he set your contact with. a blurred, blinding smile with his face squished against yours; a little below the two of you, berry and cherry clutched within your palms, doing the same. “can my girl do her best for her finals?”

“i can’t promise the best, but i’ll try . . okay?”

geto hums, a soft smile on his face. he’s cleaned up by now, new sweatpants on and duvet pulled right to his neck while he stares at your face, the pixels of the nokia never diluting your beauty.

“attagirl. have a good dinner, lovergirl.”

that knocks some breath out of you, and you grin like a schoolgirl.

“have a goodnight’s sleep, loverboy.”

you bounce on your heels impatiently when the plane finally lands, waiting for the throngs of people on the flight to leave through the bridge, but it’s taking ages, speed walking once you’re out. you wanted to be the first at the luggage conveyor belt, you needed to be the first passenger of your flight to be out of the arrival doors.

without the rush of the people and the striking colours of your boyfriend’s friends’ hair colours, it wasn’t too difficult to run up to them for a big hug.

“(y/n)~!” gojo drags out your name, waving you over excitedly and bringing the both of you into a group hug. nanami is adamant on being the ever broody racer, but you catch the ghost of a smile when he wraps a careful arm around your shoulders.

“how was the flight, (y/n)?” the blonde’s firm but concerned voice cuts through the chaos of the white-haired man.

“don’t ask lame questions like thaaaat, nanami! you’ll just bore me—” and a resounding smack! is then heard, and gojo’s clutching the back of his head in pain, the other taking the opportunity to lead you away from gojo’s antics and offering to help with your luggages. without words, nanami already feels your nervousness, patting your back in solidarity.

“hey— hey! oi!”

gojo slams the door to his car. “okay, we’ve painstakingly tried to hold suguru back whenever he was about to book flights—” gojo mentions in the car on the ride there, taking way too quick turns for your liking with your luggage going to town in the trunk. its thumps against the roof and sides always seem to interrupt the conversation with the white-haired man, but he seemed too much in a hurry to care. “think it was almost eight separate times!”

“thank you— ah!” you almost lurch forward at the amber light, but gojo decided at the last minute that he was just going to run it — braking then speeding it up all over again.

“you know, for a racer, you’re a terrible civilian driver . .” you groan once you reach the mouth of the familiar car park that you frequented in your six months in japan, but now that gojo’s easily manoeuvres the car to a slow, the adrenaline of the fast drive changes into something of dread, of a dizzying feeling.

what if suguru didn’t want to see you anymore? what if he already booked himself a flight and was nowhere to be found? what if he’s cheat—

your hands are clammy, not even present to how gojo calls out from you from the driver’s seat. cautiously, he’s putting a hand on your shoulder (because god forbid gojo touched anything of suguru’s, both Mazda and girlfriend), and shaking you out of your daze.

you catch glimpses of his sentences: “all  . . talks about . . trust . . no girl has . .” but you stop his rambling with frantic slaps to his shoulder. you know you shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions but it’s hard not to when the scene is clear as day. suguru is never one to cheat — from the six months you’ve known him, from the many calls and check-ins the two of you do over the line.

defying time zones, fighting fatigue . . for this?

but you know better to list your lover as the instigator, especially from how this other girl was just hovering all over his Mazda, sticking her ass out and trailing her hand all over his finishing. that was one thing — but geto isn’t making any move to shove her off, only looking at her through hooded lids that could definitely drive anyone off. she wasn’t affected, though.

you’re not listening to gojo even when you step out of the car, already used to the curious eyes that rake over you and your figure — curiosity turns into recognition and then shock when they see how your boyfriend acts, but before you can actually make your way toward them, another man sidles up to you.

oh my god, it’s daisuke. you sigh loudly, knowing how gojo had dealt with him before and how much of an asshole he is, but all he does is look you up and down, not giving one fuck to how the subject of his embarrassment was sitting right in the driver’s seat.

“hey, babygirl.” you want to vomit from that one greeting alone, but you try not to pay him much mind. “what’s a pretty lady like you doin’ out here?”

“don’t your sorry ass have a girlfriend?” daisuke doesn’t even begin to digest the insult, and you think that he’s a masochist with how much he sets himself up for getting insulted, but then the girl’s eyes meet yours — she’s in his pictures, she’s in his wallet, you’ve seen her when this loser beside you blatantly brags about his girl. you’d feel sorry for her but it seems she’s as stupid as him.

they’re exactly that — realising you just walked yourself into one big jealousy scheme planned by the biggest jokers of the underground racing scene, your suspicions are confirmed when his eyes are also locked on his girlfriend with your boyfriend of all people, making sure she sees that he’s all up in your space. she’s doing the same, but when she actually tries to touch him is when geto finally does something, and the jealous burn in your heart quells a bit.

geto’s too smart to be mingling around with her, you hope, when you hear him mutter something to her and you smile to yourself when she cowers under his stare and words.

“you touch my fuckin’ car one more time and i’m sure to drive both you and your loser boyfriend, out of here forever. you can take your clown asses to another parking lot and race there and then i won’t have to see your faces any more,” his hold around his wrist isn’t harsh, but it is firm, and he prevents her from leaving until she gets his message, “plus i have a girl i’m obsessed with. take your lame jealous charade somewhere else and maybe go to couples’ therapy. you two clearly need it.”

and when she looks at you again — you think it’s how your identity settles in her mind — she yelps and finally runs away at the daggers you give, not even sparing a glance to daisuke who’s carefully scooching closer to you. but just as he tries to wrap his arm around your waist, your eyes catch suguru’s.

his eyes soften for just a moment; it was just like the café. his palms turn sweaty and he feels like he could collapse — but now you’re looking just a little different. he wasn’t sure if it was because of your hair or the tiredness from exams, but you’re still as stunning as the day he led you out of the parking lot.

geto cannot resist giving you a big grin, but it quickly fades when his gaze falls on daisuke beside you and a scowl appears. and while your body’s already distancing yourself from the man’s crusty ass lips, you feel a throb go right down to your core when the same annoyed glower forms across his features: eyebrows pulled taut, long strides, muscles bulging in the wifebeater he’s got on.

six months away from your man has clearly done things to you.

with one smooth swoop, geto has you pulled flush against him, not even looking as he uses his free hand to grab at daisuke’s neckline before he leans in to kiss you. it’s admittedly a little embarrassing, cause your body reacts so readily to him, tits pressed against his chest while your fingers tangle themselves in his long hair. he tastes like cigarettes and cherries like always and you moan softly into his mouth when his hands wander right down to your ass to give it a squeeze.

“satoru’s not very good at hiding secrets, unfortunately,” geto spills and you pout, surprise ruined by the loud mouth of his friend, but before he gives you his undivided attention, he tugs daisuke closer, roughly. “but that don’t mean i ain’t happy to see ya, baby.”

geto laughs at your flustered state, until his expression darkens again — “you have a lot of nerve touching my girl.”

“I—i didn’t! she was basically begging for me to touch her.”

“don’t you—”

“p-plus! my girl was all up over you too, so i thought i’d give her a little lovin’—”

geto almost smashes his jaw in. either way, he lands a clean punch to his face that has daisuke writhing on the floor, clutching his mouth in pain but that doesn’t deter daisuke one bit who sits up . . and then is immediately beaten down again with a boot to his chest. your boyfriend leans down and looks him straight in the eye.

“i’m cancelling my race just so i can make my girl scream my name loud enough for you, because you could never fuck her or anyone that good with your shit dick game,” geto scoffs, “and forget girls, you can’t even win enough races to rise up the ranks. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough, don’t you think?”

suguru doesn’t bother waiting for an answer, only ushering you toward his Mazda parked in the familiar corner, easily shooting a text to gojo to cancel the race as he mentioned just so he could . .

with windows down, you relish again in the tokyo night air, the hand that you miss so much on your thigh, the alluring voice he’s speaking to you in, the beauty of geto suguru. everything looked the same since you left, from the photos he’s put up on the dashboard, the berry keychain hanging from the rear view mirror, the outer orange coating of his car.

“i—”

“i’m sorry, my love,” suguru leaps forward to apologise, stopping the car abruptly. you’ve already reached your destination but, it seems he wants to say something first.

“why are you apologising?”

he frowns, bringing his hand to cradle your cheek. easily, you’re leaning into the touch, closing your eyes. “for ruining the surprise, for that stupid fight with daisuke, for letting my emotions take over.”

you mirror him, features also deepening in somberness. “you didn’t do anything — if anything, you were a victim of his girlfriend too. but . . seeing her be all over you, made me think the worst after not seeing you for six months.”

geto’s eyes soften yet again (he simply can’t help it around you), using both hands to hold you, now, and you float into his arms like a feather, like he’s in command. you let him guide you into the driver’s seat, faces so close and just hoping to touch after so many months apart.

“i . . i love you,” he swallows, brushing the hair from your face. you find that he’s shaking and breathing so heavily you’d think he was hyperventilating, but he gathers courage on a deep breath and continues, “i have since you left. right after, i went home to cry.”

“oh . .” your lip juts out, eyebrows downturned and eyes filling just a little, “oh, sugu . .”

“i just have always wanted to say it, i guess,” he chuckles, sniffling to hide his true emotions, “i just didn’t know whether i should say it over the phone where it would sound cheap; b-but, you don’t have to say it back, of course—”

you smile through tears, pressing a peck to his forehead in gratitude, “it wouldn’t sound like it to me, but i appreciate you waiting until i returned,” geto relishes in your lips upon his skin again, and he doesn’t think he could survive another day, another minute, another second without you, “i have, too, but i’m not sure when. it definitely includes the time you set alarms to wake me up for exams, though.”

he laughs freely at the memory now, of alarms interrupting his dinners and his parents asking “another call?”, but they let him do whatever, happy to hear their boy joking and laughing over the call with his mystery partner. you giggle, using your thumbs to wipe away the tears that did fall, letting the interior fluorescent light of the Mazda illuminate the features you love so much, all belonging to the man you pined over from many miles away.

“i love you too, suguru — stumbling into that random car park was the best thing i’ve ever done.”

“well, it might’ve not turned out as well if some other group had gotten to you first,” his thumb plays with your bottom lip and brings you to him, “’m just glad i got to ya in time . .”

“yeah? what if you didn’t at all?”

“then i would’ve made sure i’d find you in any way that i can, even if i had to beat up a thousand daisukes.”

that makes you giggle at little, a sliver of eye contact shared with your lover before he engulfs you in a rough kiss and your moan reaches the heavens, body so sensitive from being away from his touch that you jolt when he wraps an arm around your waist. 

“relax, baby,” geto chuckles, speaking against your lips, “take it slow.”

“but i don’t wanna . .” you whine softly, clinging to him in surprise when he pulls a lever next to his seat and the backrest falls all the way down.

“ah!” you grin, “new mod?”

suguru barks out in laughter, “ya caught me. i got it modified yesterday.”

“so you could do dirty things like this?”

he rolls his eyes with a blinding smile, just so, so happy he’s got you back in his arms again, “exactly that.”

the other willingly shows you just what the modification can take, both hands spread out on your ass and pulling you onto his crotch. your core already feels the half-hard bulge under him, using your hips to grind down even more along him. everything feels like too much, after so long away from him that you already feel your high approaching from simply grinding your clit against him and he teases.

“you g’nna cum, already?” he grins slyly, suddenly moving his hips to meet yours that has a broken mewl leaving your throat.

“b—been too long away from you . .” you admit a little sheepishly, using his shirt as an anchor while you continue to grind your cunt into his front, only your panties and his trousers separating the contact of skin. but with how your body jerks in pleasure, you’d think there was nothing between the both of you. “i need you, quick.”

geto says nothing but help you with small pants, the backlighting from the headlines accentuating your figure so nicely that he grunts out your name in between swears, soon stuttering your syllables once he feels you still on his lap with arched back and throbbing cunt. he can feel you, feel you squeezing around him even when he wasn’t in you.

“guess your fingers were pretty crap, h-huh?” massaging your sides, you hum in disapproval at his cheeky smirk, hoping to change that when he lets you do whatever: you pull him up by his shirt and open the door to his car, pushing at him to get out. you don’t day anything and he already knows what you want when you spread your legs, biting his lip at the wet patch on the pretty set you decided to don.

and even with witnessing this sight over and over, you’re never used to the way geto worships you, reveres you, when he kneels down on straight gravel. he doesn’t care if his pants are littered with small specks of dust and dirt, whether he knees start to hurt, but he only has his eyes set on your alluring cunt, finger delicate when he pulls your panties to the side but just brutal when his mouth meets your clit.

“su— s-shit—!” is all you can manage, hearing the other breathe through his nose once his mouth latches on your pussy. it’s something that he hasn’t tasted since long ago, and he’d be damned to let you go again, so he takes the opportunity to savour your arousal, switching between flicking and sucking on your clit like a starved man.

“she tastes so fuckin’ good hmmff—” his eyes meet yours and he feels you squeeze around nothing, making a show of letting you watch how his tongue circles your bud, down to your hole and up again, slurping up your juices sloppily. “i hope this pussy’s missed me as much as i missed her, yeah?”

“y-yeah . .” you moan out softly, legs moving apart more to get more of him, pelvis humping against his face so much that he has to hold it down with a hand. your pre is dripping all over his leather seats and onto the floor, but he makes sure not to spill any more from the way he scoops it up and prods at your entrance. 

“let your pussy do the talkin’, baby,” he mumbles drunkenly, pushing in a finger past your walls and the stretch is already so much better than your own. your jaw hangs open in ecstasy, body already bucking and craving for more when he pushes his thicker finger all the way in and it’s no problem for geto to slip the other in, “she’s sucking me in so well, can she do this to my cock too? hm?”

wordlessly, you’re nodding, catching a whisper of good girl before he’s back on your sopping pussy, sucking up and swallowing all of your arousal that it’s downright filthy, the noises echoing throughout the space. geto doesn’t waste any time pumping his digits, moving them in tandem with his tongue.

“s—suguru . .” you whine, struggling to keep your eyes open from the sheer pleasure, and you’re met with the vision that you can never get enough of — your racer boyfriend’s tongue out, hooded lids and soaked chin — and he grants you a little more of euphoria, groaning loudly into your pussy. with each minute, he’s only getting harder, unbelievably so, so your fantasy cut short when he removes his fingers and mouth with a pop! and laughs at your needy whine.

“you’ve been away too long, come,” geto stands to give you a kiss first, letting you taste yourself, “i need to be in you, darlin’.” 

and so when he first slips in, it feels like heaven on earth, his leaking tip nudging past your folds and right into your warm cunt that he whines so loudly, long hair falling all about his face and body. you’re not different, nails digging in his skin at the stretch that you’ve missed, cock so much longer and thicker than your fingers.

“t-this is better than any fleshlight, fuuckk . .” he mutters to himself, one hand holding your ankle up and the other holding your bent knee. he’s hoping the modification he made to his car wouldn’t give up on him, because he knows he won’t be able to hold back once you’ve adjusted. but when you start moving earlier than he expects, he doesn’t give you the chance, slamming right up to the hilt until you’re shivering and clenching around him.

“g—god, r-right there, sugu—” you preen, nothing but incoherent and repeated sentences mumbled by you over and over, “feels s’full . .”

“y-yeah? tha’ it?” you don’t need the shitty light of the abandoned parking lot to make you look beautiful, you’re doing it all on your own when your body arches towards him and your legs shiver in his hold, catching glimpses of just how wet you were — juices smeared along your inner thighs, a clear sheen of it along his length, all thanks to the lighting. “so sloppy, huh . . listen to ’er.”

geto emphasises his thrust, in, out, and in, out, just for you to hear your dripping pussy dragging along his shaft, one of the things of yours that makes him go insane. 

“all because of you,” you babble mindlessly, fingers expressing your need for him and he listens like he always does, body hovering over yours just to kiss you and because of that he’s thrusting all the more deeper into you as you break the kiss with a loud moan. geto laughs against your lips, hips making quick work to make sure he stays in his new angle, and he’s rewarded with your lewd pleas for him.

he’s ramming into you so perfectly, mushroom tip just barely brushing against your cervix each time that it has your mouth permanently open in pure pleasure.

“well . . you’re the only doll to get me hard and needy like this . .” he chuckles again, kissing down your neck to make sure you get blue and black into your skin, “and i fuckin’ love her for it.”

with a shaky hand you pull on his ruined ponytail, “s-say it again.”

“i love you,” suguru almost whispers, afraid of breaking the silence.

“again . .”

“i love you, sweetheart,” that makes you bend into his hold, undoubtedly.

“again, suguru—”

his hips are relentless, still moving even through his pussydrunk confessions, “i love you— i-i love you, i love you. so, goddamn, much— s-shiiit . .”

“m-me too, su . . i love you— i—” your arms trap him, circling around his neck and making sure he stays close to you and he pushes on your knees more, fat cock fucking into you in a more open mating press, knowing you’re close by how your toes curl and your stomach contracts, by how your pussy flutters around his mouth and soft needy sighs turn into wanton moans. he’s got you mapped out, memorised, all from his devotion to you.

“i know, baby, you’re close, y—yeah?”

he feels you nod, thighs starting to burn from the position but while your pussy keeps sucking him in, he’s sure to continue to slam into you, making sure all four walls of the parking lot hear the obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your ass.

“c’mon, cum with me, princess,” he murmurs, lightheaded with the tightness and warmth of your pussy. it’s a wonder he hasn’t cummed already, sneaking one hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit. your moans are rendered inaudible, only managing pathetic squeaks before you’re tipped over the edge and you’re whimpering so loudly into his car, cum dripping down and out your cunt and right to your ass.

your pussy flutters with geto’s continued thrusts, prompting him to reach his release right after with a deep groan, hips stuttering in your sensitive pussy until he’s spilling his load, white and hot. it’s just so, so goddamn much, stuffing your hole full of his cum that it has no choice to spill and dribble out when he removes his cock, the sight just so mesmerising to him.

“p—please,” your energy is far from used up, turning your body over just so you can present your ass to him. face squished into the driver’s seat, you use both hands to spread your cum-filled pussy, just asking for more and geto only smiles with a certain lilt in his voice. “need more, suguru . .”

“that’s my lovergirl.”

[noxtivagus]

how do u interact w ppl again >////<

[ambreiiigns]

more whining i need to see my therapist sorry

[sai4u]

★ — couple of the year .ᐟ

⤷ gq couple interviews with nct dream

⌗ ft .∿ dream ot7 x reader

⌗ genre + warnings .∿ fluff + someone please jeno from this

⌗ trini’s note .∿ okay last re upload from the deleted blog 😭. also if you never seen a gq couple quiz, here’s one of my favorite examples :)

⤹ ⊹ mark lee .ᐟ

✶ mark would have extreme confidence that he would get all the questions correct. at most, maybe one or two questions wrong but he wouldn’t sulk it off, he would more than likely say, “I knew that” or “that was my second guess, I swear”

✶ weirdly enough, he would get the much deeper, or “harder”, questions correct more than the basic questions like what’s your middle name or what’s your favorite color

✶ for the deeper questions he gets correct, he would constantly answer, “see, I told you I knew you baby” with his lil smirk or a sly smile

✶ I think mark would almost always have a story attached majority of the questions you asked him. some are embarrassing, some have you giving a belly laugh, and some are sentimental. the sentimental ones, he’s holding eye contact with you, matching your smiles, and mouthing, ‘i love you’

✶ as for questions about him, he would let out an exaggerated sigh when you get them wrong. he would act so heartbroken and go on this dramatic ramble of how he thought his partner knew him

⤹ ⊹ huang renjun .ᐟ

✶ renjun is a shy lil thing for these types of interviews. quite nervous that he’ll get some wrong but confident enough that he’ll get most of them right. though, he does believe he’ll get more questions right than you will and he wasn’t wrong

✶ he would stand firm on the questions he got wrong that he thinks he got correct. he blames you that you never told him this information or that you’re a liar, sometimes side-eyes you before you say if he’s wrong or right. if he got it wrong, he would have hard evidence that he is correct and even state word for word on when you said the correct answer in the past

✶ as for questions about him, he would maybe allow bonus points. it depends on how many bonus questions you gave him, which would total how much or how little bonus points you get

✶ ngl, renjun can become a petty lil mf when it comes to his questions. he think it’s only right after the struggle you put him through answering some of those questions and fighting for his case

⤹ ⊹ lee jeno .ᐟ

✶ slightly like mark and has extreme confidence that he’ll get every question right except….anyways ! it’s not that he’s not an attentive bf (cause he is, trust !) but he’s truly shocked at how many he gets wrong. but at the same time, the ones he thinks he is wrong, he gets right ??? idk man. he knows who was your first best friend but doesn’t know your favorite meal…

✶ a lot of laughs are shared between the two of you cause it truly is funny at his reactions at whether or not he’s right. usually his jaw is dropped; if he’s right he nods his head in a slightly cocky manner but if he’s wrong, he shakes his head and curses himself

✶ but at the same time, you throw him some bonus points to help cause poor baby is not doing so good. in the end for the questions about you, he doesn’t do as bad but he believe that definitely isn’t his best and plans to be a better bf to you

✶ for questions about him, he assumes just about half the time that you won’t get this question right, and it could be the most basic questions anyone could easily answer. like why is mans shocked that you know his favorite artist and his favorite pastime…?

⤹ ⊹ lee haechan .ᐟ

✶ it turned from a cute quiz to a full blown competition. out of all of dream, his confidence is at an all time, always, when it comes to being the best boyfriend God can put on this earth. but oh do you have something planned for him

✶ haechan is more than a thousand percent confirmed that he’ll get all answers right and sits in his seat with such confidence. you roll your eyes and look through the questions as he continues to boast

✶ the questions were going good, ofc he was getting every single correct cause again, he’s the best (he prefers the term “perfect) you could ever have. until it’s questions that even you may not know the answer to that starts to trip him. he thinks you’re pranking him, even after you assured him that you aren’t

✶ haechan would trip you up so you can forget the correct answers to your questions. a firm believer that haechan would sit in a certain position to have you gushing, you try to hide your smile while asking the question but it’s no use when he’s around

✶ though when it’s his turn to ask the question, he is absolutely terrible. he’ll throw in bonus questions to trip you up and when you get them wrong, he is so dramatic my goodness. he’s even worse than mark and think it’s the death of him that you don’t remember his comfort meal

⤹ ⊹ na jaemin .ᐟ

✶ jaemin is actually mellow about his confidence for this couples quiz. he’s as confident as haechan but not nearly as bad as haechan can get. don’t get me wrong, he always assures that he’s the number one boyfriend material but thankfully know he’s not perfect

✶ I’d say out of all dream, jaemin would have, I believe, the third highest score. potentially a tie with renjun for second if he tries hard enough. he gets the easy and hard questions correct without breaking a sweat and sometimes throw in extra info for that question, just to show that he really is attentive

✶ throughout the quiz, he would blow air kisses and reach to grab your hand but you would think that he’s trying to cheat. which leads you to move it out of his reach and leaving him with a small pout

✶ another pouter on our hands guys ! he mostly pouts when he doesn’t get his bonus points or when you reject bonus points from him. no jaemin, you cannot get two bonus points just cause you named your partner’s dream career out of nowhere

✶ when it comes to jaemin’s questions, he is very nice about it and isn’t too harsh with the questions. though, he does throw some curveballs so prepared for that. he’ll go from what’s favorite movie to who’s the first person he talked to on the phone that day

⤹ ⊹ zhong chenle .ᐟ

✶ an actual comedy show when a couples quiz and chenle is combined. listen, he believes these questions doesn’t prove that he is a good boyfriend but he will do it just for the sake of you :p

✶ but at the same time, he will put on a game face and take this couples quiz veryyyy seriously. he refuses to even let a slim of doubt enter you just cause of a couple incorrect answers. I do believe as just as the amount of answers he gets correct, his ego gets stronger and you can tell from his stance

✶ though, (just like renjun) almost every answer he would get wrong, he would firmly believe that he is right. he’ll have you thinking that maybe YOU’RE the one with the wrong answer. he’ll do everything in his power to prove that he’s right and sometimes it gets a bit scary how hard he’s fighting for that point

✶ I would say that his score is pretty decent but he definitely could have done better. though after the interview, he’s still stuck on the questions he got wrong. cause wym your favorite ice cream isn’t cookies n cream ???? he literally saw you eat it last week

✶ now chenle giving you the questions….be prepared for a lot of sass, a lot of dramatic signs, and a lot of ‘I thought my partner knew me better mmcht’

⤹ ⊹ park jisung .ᐟ

✶ literally the best and most perfect companion for this quiz (yes I’m being biased, sue me). the man who would score the highest out of all seven boys but still keep a humble posture throughout the quiz. he blushes after you praise him for the amount he gets correct, which is all ofc :)

✶ sometimes he’ll be specific for certain questions, even after you told him he can keep it vague. he’ll go into detail of how your morning routine is set or little signs to show that you’re not in a talkative mood at the moment

✶ deeper questions are the ones that he is the most confident in, he mentally prepared himself for these type of questions. he’ll give reasons as to why you dislike this food or how you have a heavy distaste towards sports. starting to think it’s just jisung’s excuse to ramble about you

✶ as mentioned before, jisung isn’t as cocky as the members but internally, he knows he got this quiz in the bag. he stays humble and gushes on how much he got right

✶ for questions about himself, he’s one hundred percent sure that you’ll get majority correct. but he isn’t worked up if you were to get them wrong; instead, he lets a lighthearted ‘tsk’ and tells you the correct answer. he also reassures you that you still are a good partner to him, no matter how many you have gotten wrong :)

౨ৎ honestly shocked on how little time this took but I’m really happy with how it came out :)

౨ৎ lemme know if you guys want a 127 and/or wayv version of these hcs 🤭

kisses to you all and God bless you 💗

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝟦𝗎. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[paleepeaches]

Happy Valentines Day

(Connor Rk800 x Fem Reader)

Warnings: Idk NSFW so 18+

Word count: 2422

Summary: It's Valentine's Day and instead of making Connor dinner you let him fuck your brains out.

A/N: This took way longer than it should have. It's pretty mid.

Tags: If you're still interested @joelsfavoritegirl

You were a festive person. Always have and always will be. Valentine's was your favorite holiday not only because of the pink and red strewn across supermarkets and stores but because it was a day of love: a reason to celebrate you and Connor’s union. You were sentimental. Sensitive and a bit of a sappy girl when it came to things like that. Connor was fully aware of it. He made note of it when you first got together. How you pouted up at him. Your bottom lip jutting out slightly covered in your lipgloss. When things didn’t go your way your pretty doe eyes would water with tears and coat your spiky lashes. Seeing you so whiney and needy all the time was an adorable sight. Especially when it came to him. You’d pout every time he had to leave for the DPD every morning. Today was no different.

“Do you have to go?” You fluttered your lashes up at him. 

Connor turned his head to look at you while he did his tie. His hands skilfully mastered it. He felt his resolve waver seeing you so like that. You’d just gotten up. Hair was a bit messy, eyes a bit tired but what you wore got him. It was the babydoll nightdress. Baby pink in color and the cups on it hugged your tits so nicely. It was sheer and cut off at the top of your plush thighs. He had to resist throwing you on the bed and just fucking your brains out. Poor baby girl didn’t know what you were doing to him.

“I have to. Hank needs me for another case. Plus who’s gonna make enough money to take care of you?” He cooed down at you with his signature smirk. 

You huffed out a sigh nodding in understanding. “Okay but are you gonna be home on time to celebrate? To eat dinner and do….other activities?” You blushed at the hint you threw out. Connor had been balls deep inside of you, lapped viciously at your pussy, and had you whining and calling him daddy yet you were still so timid. He nodded his head trying to hide his amusement at your shyness. 

“Of course,” He smoothed out his jacket and reached a hand out to you. He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek and relishing in its softness. “I’ll never keep you waiting. You know that.” He leaned down and placed a peck on your lips. He could taste that lingering lip balm on you. Cherry. You always had to have it cherry-flavored. He licked his lips tasting it and hummed. He reluctantly let you go as soon as he felt his cock begin to throb to life. Just kissing you was enough to send him into a feral mood.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He promised you and grabbed his car keys leaving you wanting and yearning for him.  

You filled your day with meaningful tasks despite the growing ache of Connor leaving you high and dry. You were dedicated to making this Valentine’s Day one he would remember. 

You had decorated your shared home in heart-shaped garlands and had a few scented candles going. If it was any other Valentine’s Day involving a human with functioning organs then you would have made a delicious meal and set wine out. However, this was Connor an RK800 model who didn’t need food or water to keep functioning. So you had to get creative which was why when he came home he was happy to see the festive decor, the soft glow of the candles around the living room, and the trail of petals leading to the bedroom.

You knew it was a bit cheesy of a tactic and overused but what other things could you have possibly used as a romantic trial? Connor had come home with flowers and of course, a gift for you held in the other hand. “Y/N…” He called out softly as he pushed open the bedroom door. If he had lungs they would have surely strained and stopped his breathing. He’d seen you in proactive wear before but this was the cherry on top. 

You sat knelt on the plush soft bed with each leg under you. You wore a babydoll lingerie top that cupped your breasts, making them sit so pretty on your chest. The top was thin, sheer, and baby pink bringing out the color of your skin. A pretty bow sat in the middle between the valley of your breast effectively accentuating your body. A thong was keeping your pretty puffy lips in place from falling out. Connor could see you went all out this year. He set the gifts for you on the dresser and walked meaningfully towards you.

“You like it?” You giggled softly a playful smirk on your pouty lips. Connor sat down next to you, the bed dipping in the process. “Of course I do sweetie.” He moved your hair aside with his hand and leaned in kissing you on the exposed skin of your neck. You inhaled sharply your eyes softening and body feeling like putty. 

Connor was programmed to analyze and interrogate deviants. So, naturally, he was able to figure out what aroused you and what didn’t. He knew of all the special spots on your lovely skin. His lips skilfully kissed your neck leaving hot wet kisses. You mewled delightfully for him making his cock harden.

He leaned into your ear whispering, “You sound so fucking pretty.” 

It caused a pink shade to cover your supple cheeks. He never ceased to make you blush even when he wasn’t trying to fuck you.

“Lay down, I wanna taste you.” He lightly pushed you down to lay on the bed. Your hair was sprawled across the sheets and your arms were at your side. Connor spread your legs and dragged you towards the edge of the bed. He kneeled before you, slipping your thong off. His fingers skillfully spread your puffy folds revealing your wet slick cunt. 

“I haven’t even touched you and you're already soaking.” He smiled cruelly at you. 

“Connor…” You whined out, hips bucking up to get him to taste you, finger you, anything. 

He laughed at your desperation, “Always so needy.” Connor didn’t want to give in to you just yet. He wanted to draw it out, have you begging for him to touch you. His plans quickly changed when he saw your pleading eyes and fluttering lashes. You looked so docile and cute that he couldn’t help but give in. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He spread your pussy folds further getting a good look at how drenched you were before giving you a long lick. He was hungry for you, tongue swirling around your clit and lapping at your puffy folds. 

“Fuck C-Connor-” Your moans were broken and rough as he continued his assault. Your eyes rolled back and your hands immediately tugged on his hair.

“You taste so good.” He muttered the vibrations of his voice over your clit caused you to throw your head back. 

He took your whines as fuel and dipped his tongue deep inside your hole. He groaned feeling it grip and clench, greedy for anything to fill it. He retracted his tongue humming and relishing in the sweet taste of your juices. 

“Shh baby you’re doing so good for me.” He cooed to you and before you could reply he plunged two long and slender fingers into you. You gasped for air, body squirming under him. He had to hold you in place to keep you from moving.

“Connor I-I think I’m gonna cum-” You choked out, voice cut off by his fingers slipping out with a loud squelch. He smirked down at you and you knew he’d refuse to give you an orgasm. At least not with his fingers.

“Connor, please.” You whined out for him desperately clawing at his trousers and tugging his belt. You wanted to see him, stop this torture, and have him fuck you raw.

He smiled down at you, tilting his head slightly to the side. “You’re so needy Y/N.” Connor slapped his hand down on your cunt making you yelp. It came out breathy and far from painful. His hand smacked you again, hitting deliciously against your throbbing clit.

Connor engrained your reaction into his hardware, studying, and learning. He yanked off your babydoll lingerie, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but your bare skin. 

Connor was quick, fingers deftly opening each button of his shirt. His belt was next, his hands deftly moving to unbuckle it. He threw it on the floor, making it clang against the hardwood. He pushed down his trousers and underwear down and his face fell in relief. His cock sprang free, the head was swollen and leaking pre cum. 

At the sight of it, you felt your hole flutter and clench around nothing. You squirmed on the bed, withering in need. “Connor please, please, I’ve been a good. girl” You mewled out, batting your sweet lashes up at him.

There was something so thrilling and almost primal about you laying before him so vulnerable. The way you begged for his cock had him hardening even more. You never ceased to make his heart clench and cock jump from how sweet you were.“Shh, baby it's okay. I’ll give this pussy what it needs.” He cooed to you so softly.

Connor pumped his cock a few times, his pre cum seeping from the tip and spreading over his shaft. He pushed your legs up to your chest and lined his cock up to your hole. He could see your pretty pussy tighten up in anticipation. An amused exhale left his nose as he looked up into your eyes. They were foggy, glassy with lust and pure need. 

Connor pushed the head of his cock in and he groaned, hand coming down to the side of your head to brace himself. He gripped the bedsheets below you two and his face scrunched up in restraint. He knew first penetration was always hard for you. Your poor pussy couldn’t take so much cock so he had to take his time. He struggled to keep his composure and just thrust his full length into you. He knew if he did you'd cry out, sob, and claw at him. It was thrilling.

He sighed out and smoothed the skin on your hip with his palm. "Relax baby." With each second that passed he slipped in further and further in taking his time to stretch you out.

You were a mess below him, clawing at his shoulders and back. If he were human you would be sure he'd have red claw marks on his porcelain skin.

You panted like a bitch in heat, cunt clamping hard on him. “M-more, more Connor, I can take it.” You pouted up to him.

Connor chuckled at your bold statement. “You can take it huh?” 

“Y-yeah I can take it-”

Connor slammed his cock into you causing a yelp to escape your throat. The big stretch was painful as his tip bumped your cervix. Your body jolted upwards away from him but he just pulled his cock out and shoved it in again.

“Thought you could take it, princess. This is what you’ve been whining about?” Connor smiled down at you cruelly. He folded you in half, pushing your legs farther up to your chest. His cock slipped further in, making a lewd squelching sound.

“Y-yes!” You cried out in response.

“Then stop fucking complaining and take my cock like a good girl.” Connor leaned down and kissed you roughly, tongue slipping into your mouth. His hand gripped your chin as he pumped his cock into you.

His heavy balls slapped against the plump flesh of your ass. The noise echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls and into your ear. Your juices leaked out of your cunt, coating his cock and dripping down his balls. He could feel it warm them and groaned into your mouth. He pulled back from the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours. “That’s my good princess, fuck clench down just like that.” 

You blushed, your pussy clamping down on him just from the compliment. “Ahh! Mphm! Fuck…Connor!” You were loud letting high-pitched moans fall from your pouty lips. Your eyes rolled back and you bit down on your lip relishing in the sweet bliss of his cock.

“Don’t do that. I wanna hear you.” Connor smacked your face lightly and you released your bottom lip from your teeth. 

“C-Connor I’m not gonna- I can’t-” Your words were chopped up, as you struggled to speak. They came out in whiney babbles and Connor couldn’t help but become amused. He thought you looked so cute like that. Your face controted into pleasure, words not even forming sentences just sounds. He loved seeing you completely drunk on his cock. 

“Good girl, just like that.” He praised you. He pressed the pad of his thumb to your swollen clit, rubbing slow and tight circles around it. You cried out, clawing at his back. Your bambi eyes brimmed with tears. You blinked, lashes fluttering and coated in the wetness. Fat tears rolled down your pink cheeks as you came.

Connor noticed but didn't fret. You would cry often due to the pure delight of cumming. He leaned down, cooing to you and licking them up with his tongue. He could taste the bitter and salty flavor of your tears.

That simple act made your walls clench down on his throbbing cock. Your legs locked him in place, wrapped around his waist and not letting him retract further than he should. He pounded into your soaking wet heat. “Fuck!” He cursed as you milked his cock. One final thrust into your spongy sweet spot had Connor spilling ropes of cum deep into your pussy. He gave a few sloppy thrusts helping you both ride out your orgasms. Your cream and his cum oozed out as he pushed his cock deep in, making it overflow and spill. You poor pussy was a mess. All fucked out and painted white.

Connor panted for a few seconds but recovered quickly due to his android body. He placed sweet soft kisses on your red cheeks and your forehead. “You did so good for me baby.” His voice was soft and sweet as he spoke.

You smiled up at him, panting softly, “Happy Valentine's Day.” 

[m0llygunn]

i wish i had met you earlier (eddie munson x reader)

cw: depressing pillow talk and comfort idk, reader was sad and lonely an: a nod to the only boy ive ever loved who coincidentally became the only man ive ever loved. we grew up together and i still wish i had met him earlier. wc: 1k

“I wish I had met you earlier,” you whisper.

“Earlier?” he smiles, nose scrunching at the silliness, not knowing the depth of your sentiment. 

“Yeah,” you smile back. It’s hard not to do— to smile, when his eyes are so soft, and his lips are that plump, just kissed colour, and your body still hums from the evening behind you. His lashes flutter the slightest bit, blinking away your flattery with a bashful roll of his eyes. 

“You’d be sick of me already if we met earlier,” he lightly huffs, cheek squishing further into the softness of your shared pillow, crooking his smile. 

If the lights were on, you’re sure you’d see a flush suffuse across his face. It would highlight the curvature of his cheeks that accompany his boyish simper, and it would emphasize the winsome rounded tip of his nose. When he blushes like that, your heart always adds an extra beat into its rhythm, one that lives for him. You can picture it so clearly, your heart flutters all the same— that’s not the point of this though. 

“I wouldn't be sick of you,” you promise.

“No?”

“I'll never get sick of you.” 

Tactile as always, he draws his affection over your features, trusting his touch to communicate what he feels. His fingertips dance over your cheek bone, daring to grace close enough to your eye to feel the very tips of each silken lash, flittering with every reflexive blink. He feels the fan, every feathery gust of air, and it affects him in magnitudinous ways— feeling any part of you is like that, a full-hearted reminder that you are here. You are here and you are his. 

His palm settles to your cheek, fingers curving just below your ear, cradling the edge of your face. His own version of a promise, he shares his warmth and oath-taken heart through his touch.

“When would you have wanted to meet?” he asks curiously, blinking his own thick lashes at you as his gaze meets yours. 

“Just before high school.”

He smiles widely, “you answered that quickly,” he says, thumb tracing once over the hill of your cheek and back down.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” you smile back. You lean into his touch and he draws his thumb across again. You close your eyes for a moment and he does it another time. 

“Why?” 

The softness inside you hardens momentarily at the question. Swallowing thickly, you also know the answer, but it doesn’t come out as quickly. It gets stuck to the roof of your mouth, stuck to the tip of your tongue. His eyes encourage your honesty, and on the sole notion of knowing him and knowing his heart, you trust him with this part of you.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so lonely.”

His thumb glides across your cheek and you watch as his eyes give way to his realization that it wasn’t a light hearted question for you. It wasn’t just pillow talk like it was supposed to be.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so sad,” you continue, trying to smile.

“You were sad?” His brows turn up, worry lines settling in. It’s a sorrowful look he gives you, not pity, but a softness, a grief, a regret. 

For a split moment, you think that maybe you should lie— make it all go away. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t, not with him. Not when his hand is so graciously connected to you, and the warmth of his bare chest radiates into yours, and your shared pillow smells like your shared shampoo, and the sheets smell like the laundry soap you picked out together, with hints of your lotion and his body wash scattered throughout like every kiss you’ve ever shared here. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t— especially not when you love him and he loves you. 

“I was so sad, Eddie.” 

You muster a smile, but it betrays you, trembling just under your lower lip. The corners of your mouth remain pointed high, but it’s not a smile, not with the way your lips purse tightly, holding back what your eyes cannot. Your lash line fills, but less than a few side fallen tears survive the heavy blinks that draw them back inwards.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, thumb tracing under your eye this time. He pulls you forward with the lightest touch, a gentle encouragement, and a purposeful reminder that he’s here. He's here and he’s yours. 

One day you’d like to explain it all, but it’s a hard feeling to understand. You’re not sure if it’s wholly a feeling to begin with— it’s more like a ghost. A haunting of all the feelings that used to exist. It washes over you in fast moving gray clouds, settling into your chest like heavy smoke in your lungs, lingering only long enough to remind you of how it was. Just enough to make you sputter, but not enough to hold the bleak weight of it all once again.

Breath coming out heaving and choked, Eddie’s palm glides to the back of your neck. His thumb presses soothingly into the tensed and taut muscles, and as soft as air he breathes a whispered apology against your lips— a simple ‘sorry,’ but it translates to so much more when he holds you like he does. 

Sorry for bringing it up. 

Sorry for the ghosts in your lungs. 

Sorry for the years of you that died all alone with nobody to mourn them. 

Sorry that no matter how many flowers you bring to their grave, they still come back, just like this, to haunt you.

Sorry— breathed against your lips and into your lungs, filling you with the gift of a life with him in it. 

“It’s not your fault,” you answer.

“I know,” he replies.

“I’m still glad I met you when I did,” you say. 

He looks into your eyes, steady gaze sincere with a tender adornment. Entirely loving, but his usually gladness is hindered by the gravity of the moment. He moves in closer to you again, lips just barely brushing yours as he speaks. 

“I wish I had met you earlier,” he whispers.

———

ty! <3

[sabrondabrainrot]

Bring back LAES!

I'm steadily making progress on catching up on sun and moon show along with foxy and monty etc etc but it's pretty difficult when one of the main key plot lines is gone. I know a few spoilers thanks to fanfiction but I want to see the drama in person.

Here's some outfit ideas for tsams cause I'm a sucker for fashion and redesigns!

Order is, SolarFlare - Lunar - NewMoon - Old Moon - Sunny (Solar's dimension) - Sun

closeups and more brainrot under the cut!

Explaining my redesigns! Lunar - he's not really a redesign and more so an overdesign. I love adding tons of little details to him to really hammer home his star-ness. He's such an interesting little guy, like yes he acts childish but I can see he's really growing (SAD I CANT WATCH MORE CAUSE THE SHOW IS GONE). I saw the ep he killed Eclipse and homeboy revived. The entire time I was like "Waaahh Lunar??? Waaahhh???" but I love the drama ngl.

SolarFlare - Same as Lunar, not really a redesign I just drew him with no dirt. I really love his base design it's so neat it makes me think of like sci-fi concepts from the 80's. Something from fallout really. I think it's kind of funny Eclipse's aesthetics for SolarFlare when you compare him next to say Jack who Solar designed.

OldMoon - I just wanted to give him a sleek mad scientist cool guy suave vibe. I saw the more recent thumbnails of him with a turtle neck and idk that's just peak character design for me. I'm a simple woman put the dumb-dumb in a dark turtleneck. I want him to kind of look like the BadGuy TM (he's not actually) so he gets all edgy and hard edges and stuff.

NewMoon - I wanted to do a similar color scheme but instead he has lighter colors like more white incorporated into his fit. To give him the whole 'reborn' aesthetic. He's all like "old moon wore black well I wear white now I'm nothing like him so hah!" kinda thinking. I gave his cap a fur texture cause of that one ep he turned into a furry. I drew rounder stuff on him cause he's a big ol' softy sweety pie.

Sunny - Sunny is my headcanon of Sun from Solar's dimension. I think it's really interesting his default with no personality was theater performance and not say...doing daycare stuff? I feel like honoring the FNAF books with this design by leaning heavily into the theater performer look. I like to think in Solar's dimension Sun and Moon were originally made for theater. (so far in the show I've noticed Creator says 'they needed a daycare attendant' something like that so it comes off more like they were intended for the daycare from the start VS. Solar's dimension where Sunny's core seems to be more so for the performing arts.) I also wanted to make Sunny look different from Sun for the extra angst potential of "They're similar but not the same" so I leaned more into a blue palette for him.

Sun - I just wanted to give him big puffy everything. I took away the tutu. nothing against the tutu I just hate drawing the damn thing. I like to think Sun in main has white eyes because he's so burnt out from within. *badum tish* (eyes are the window to the soul-) I also covered him in stickers because he totally would just be covered in stickers from the kids. I also decided to give some of his rays cracks because I think he's extremely sentimental and even in a newly upgraded body (after using star power to defeat Eclipse the first time) he'd keep rays from his original body? I also put the cracks ones on the side of his face where Old Moon hit him. Why? Because it just seems like something Sun would do. I love him so.

Ok just some brainrot stuff, look away to avoid spoilers .

RUIN DESTROYED HOW MANY DIMENSIONS?? SOLARS DEAD. LUNAR KILLED ECLIPSE. DARK SUN IS PLOTTING??? MOON BE CRYING??? Also Francine just had a birthday! ONE OF THE BLOODMOON BOYS ARE DEAD AND SAME WITH ONE OF THE STITCHY BOYS??? HELLO?!?

I love the drama.

Also, I love how every single kid vibe checks Sun and he passes every time. Francine? She loves Sun and learns from him. FC? He ONLY feels safe with Sun for a bit. Barry? He hugged Sun after gonad checking him (a right of passage for the bunny kid). Jack? I'm pretty sure he literally is just one room away from Sun at all times (he also calls Sun's cats his master???). I have yet to see Dazzle, but Dazzle 10000% loves Sun (I've seen the edits).

ALSO? When Lunar was first brought into the family the first person he hugged was Sun and then later on when Earth was in danger he ran into SUN's arms for safety/comfort. They're family your honor.

Sobbing and Crying laying on the floor over Solar's death but I think he'll be back.

Also the molten thing with Ruin? I'm excited to see more.

I don't have a youtube account to post about saving LAES but if anyone wants me to draw more LAES just to help the community please let me know. I'm planning to draw my idea of Earth next.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

hiii I adore your writing sm mwaaah💋💋💋love this kinda soft n fluffy fics they make me feel safe:'( would you write some domestic fluff with simon plsss FUCKIN LOVE this man💗😭 maybe something where they just got engaged idk whatever you wanna write... have a nice day🤍🌸

Proposal Headcanons And Scenarios With Simon "Ghost" Riley

Do y'all wanna guess who's render I used again? @ave661 probably already hates me for the amount of times I've tagged her the shitty content I write. I hope I did the request justice, they didn't exactly specify what type but I opted for something other than fics because I am horrid in writing those 😭

This is so freaking short, I'm so sorry. I have so many backed up requests, I don't even know where to begin.

❥ Pre-engagement!Simon who spent fucking months looking for the perfect ring, listen he is NOT giving you a ring that he bought impulsively.

❥ Pre-engagement!Simon who gained unsolicited advice from Soap who happened to be the first one to find out Simon had a partner in the first place.

"Aye L.T, if you want a shot of them agreeing to marry you-"

"And what would you know about being romantic?"

Yeah Simon asked Gaz instead. That still didn't change the fact that both Soap and Gaz, along with Price were there before the proposal, giving Simon a pats on the shoulder while the Lieutenant tried to catch his breath.

❥ Pre-engagement!Simon who asked Price for advice so many times, you do not believe how many times he had practiced kneeling on his not-so-strong knees.

❥ Speaking of knees, Simon had to let out some light encouragement:

"Lovie, will you marry me..?" You heard Simon asked while you had your back turned. You faced him, he was on his knees, the ring in the box enveloped in velvet, the stone glistening under the light of the moon.

it felt like the air was taken out of your lungs. Hands on your mouth, you looked at him wide eyed.

"Lovie.. please answer" He mutters, voice clearly a bit of pain and discomfort.

"O-oh shit, sorry Si" You apologized before saying yes. You helped him up with the hand before he pulled you into a tight hug, arms snug around your waist, head buried in your neck while slipping the ring on your finger before you pushed him and cupped his face into a kiss.

❥ After engagement!Simon who's fucking over the moon, why? Because you're finally his, like officially, from the words of your guys' future daughter "No take-backsies". Thinking about how his internal thoughts are just "Fuck, fuck, shit this is actually happening"

❥ After engagement!Simon who has non-stop called you Mrs. Riley in front of everyone even though you weren't married yet, you didn't have the heart to correct him. Soap tried but uhh, that earned him a unexpectedly painful punch on the arm from you.

❥ Didn't take long for you and Simon to start the planning, of course he let you take over for most of it, shared guest list of his brother's family and his family in TF141. Wanna take a guess on who was best man?

❥ Price was the one who stood for his father on Simon's side of the altar, if you asked, Price definitely would've walked you down the isle.

Hot take on engagement rings, I HATE basic and NFL engagement rings with a burning passion. If you're gonna give me something as sentimental as that, something that's gonna symbolize the moment I said yes because I love you so much that I was willing to be bound to you for eternity then I want something vintage or something that looks like it came out of a fantasy book. Something you think that a fantasy princess would wear, I heard they're even cheaper than basic ass engagement rings.

Cost ≠ Taste and Value.

[astrologuzzy]

★ MY ASTRO OBSERVASHUNS ★

Disclaimer before I start: I’m no professional astrologer so don’t come for me, mkayyy? MWAH 💋

♡ 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, more specifically those with Gemini placements in their personal planets loveeeee playing around with their voice a lot. Just utilizing their voice to be a silly goobert. Like making voice impressions or funny sound effects is very natural for them. Which is why I think so many Geminis are comedians, artists and actors. Whenever I see someone who makes goofy sounds or is very into voice acting I instantly know they must be a Gemini/have heavy Mercury placements and up until now i was 100% correct each time lmao. (As someone who has Gemini placements myself: I love to make funny voices or impressions, sometimes I do it without realizing lol)

♥︎ Which actually brings my to my second point on 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 but those that are musicians; I noticed they frequently love to play around with different genres of music and different styles of singing/rapping in general, even all in one song simultaneously. Good example would probably be Kanye West or Kendrick Lamar. Their music and style tends to be very versatile and they tend to incorporate even very random notes/effects/sounds to it as well.

♡ Oh my goodness, all the 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒 I’ve ever known have this damn thing where if you don’t ask them specifically for what you wanna know, they’ll never even tell you it. I had a friend with a full blown Libra stellium that I finally caught up with after months of no contact and this girl only told me about her having a girlfriend and getting into a car accident only 3 days later!? That was thanks to me for randomly mentioning romance and cars, otherwise she wouldn’t have even shared it. So if you wanna hear a Libra disclose something specific with you, just be direct with it.

♥︎ I haven’t met an 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 that wasn’t impulsive and would jump from one relationship/project into another and then complain about how everything turns out a mess (but then get back up and repeat the cycle again smh).

♡ 𝟏𝟐 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐒 and their hidden enemies is actually very fukkin real. I got to witness it closely for the first time and oh boi am I shook lol. My boyfriend has a 12H moon and I’ve witness multiple times strangers come up to us, start a conversation and then just become insanely rude to him outta absolutely nowhere as if they been having beef with him since kindergarten?! Randoms tend to get mad or hostile so easily at him even if he doesn’t say anything bad... it’s so weird.

♥︎ Every person with an 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 in their big 3 has this feistiness to them. Even when they’re super sweet and chill type of Aries I still notice that they have moments where they’re quite direct or don’t really care about what you think. They’re gonna say what they wanna say one way or another and it’s honestly so natural to them, I don’t think they even notice. Even the quiet Aries in my life have this demeanor to them that you just don’t fuck with because they’ll bite back at some point.

♡ In my experience, every 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒 that I’ve ever known always expressed their appreciation and affection in letters/poems/metaphors very frequently. Very romantic, very abstract, Shakespeare who? Every time they’d send a whole ass paragraph like 🥀”you are like a rose that fell in this chaotic ocean and turned it into a tranquil lake” 🍂 just to describe my eyes or something. I don’t think my Aquarius moon is cut for such stuff lmao, it makes me cringe a bit but I do appreciate it! Although every Pisces mars guy I ever knew had additional water placements in their big 3 (like Cancer sun or a Pisces moon) which probably only doubled that sentimentality they had.

♥︎ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 and their anger issues is something and that something is very real... That’s it, that’s the Tweet lol

♡ Idk what it is about 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 men but they always make me wanna take care of them and like baby them when they’re in their feels and retract and act like they aren’t on the verge of tears... Make me wanna go and cuddle them lol. Especially Cancer moons for wtv reason really soften my Aqua moon when I’m around without them even doing/saying anything.

♥︎ Also 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒 are insanely great at faking their true state of being. I’ve met so many Libras that on the outside look like they’re having a blast but when you actually get to know them you see that their house burned down, their granny died, they almost choked to death twice last week and their partner broke up with them for 15th time that day and now they’re homeless... And you’re like damn bro, I’d literally never guess. They really know how to mask everything, put up a great front for others and do it insanely convincingly. You literally would never guess what that Libra is actually going thru, it’s probably worse than you can image. Please check up on your Libra friends and Libras - it’s ok to ask for helpppp. You guys deserve it <3

♡ 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 are one of the funniest mothafukers everrrrr, they always make me laugh so much! Double points if they have Gemini or other Fire placements with it. Just hilarious individuals.

♥︎ 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 are actually pretty chill people, you won’t see them angry often (but they make sure you know when they do). Usually our anger and passion is more so hidden and works backstage. Compared to 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 that are loud with it and don’t hold back.

That’s it for todayyyy ☀︎

[naneun-no]

On “Insecure Jikookers”…

Alright. I might lose followers for this and that’s very okay; curate your timeline and protect your peace babes. But for YEARS, every time the phrase “insecure jikooker” has come up on my feed my eyelid has done a little twitchy twitch 🤨🤨

And I have always ignored it, because I’ve never wanted to be out here policing ppl’s language and we are literally supposed to be having fun and celebrating love, like for me that’s the whole point, but —

I’ve been seeing the phrase popping up again surrounding the release of AYS and I just gotta say it.

You guys the term seems so culty 😬🥲

Like I think I get the origin (maybe)? It probably started when some of the early jikook bloggers (if you are one I salute you, I am not worthy, trust me this is NOT a dig at anyone, jikook bloggers are by and large cool and kind af 🙇‍♀️) would get these sketchy asks that were antis or cultists in disguise just casting aspersions on jikook’s bond or being blatantly homophobic and/or in general being rude little anonymous internet gremlins. Or maybe it was people who did want to believe that jikook was real but kept nagging and begging for reassurance at every turn, which I can totally see becoming annoying as hell and prompting people to start using the term.

But it feels like it’s used now as like a catchall for anyone who expresses any doubt or asks any critical questions? Even like… reasonable ones? And I used to see a lot of “hey believe what you want to believe but this is what I believe” but now it seems like the sentiment around jikooker communities has by and large become “if you don’t believe you’re an idiotic dumb person who has never known love — you’re either a rival shipper in disguise or WORSE (dun dun dunnnnn) an Insecure Jikooker — and we don’t want people like you around.”

And idk it just feels weird for a community that has always seemed to kind of pride itself on being the “rational, fact-based” ship… like we LOVE to be smug about how jikook don’t need edits to be obvious, don’t need slo-mo zooms with red circles and arrows because their chemistry and fondness and affection is just plain to see in basic footage. We’re the levelheaded ones 😌.

But doesn’t that mean that we should always be encouraging critical thinking, and if someone comes to a different conclusion than us, so be it? Like it or not, none of us have foolproof confirmation that jikook are anything more than very close friends. That’s literally all we know. The rest is our best guess based on vibes, anecdotes, dot-connecting, subtext and body language observation, experience, perception (!!This is a big one because confirmation bias is real!!), and suspicion. That’s literally it.

Look maybe I’m just projecting 😅 but when you criticize people for expressing reasonable doubt over something that is literally not confirmed, it’s just a little too religious fundamentalist for me! (This is why I was a bad Christian, because I always raised my hand and asked questions the Sunday school teacher didn’t like.)

Feel free to ignore me. I never want to come across as pushy or trying to stir up anything, it’s just a phrase that grinds my gears and I’m sort of hoping I’m not alone in that… but if I am, so be it! 🤣 would love to hear people’s thoughts because maybe I’m missing something.

(P.S. If you’re a troll who spams jikook blog inboxes this is not me defending you. You’re still annoying and you need a better hobby. Have you tried yoga? Snowboarding? Fly fishing? Filming food vlogs and/or painting? You should try cooking. You should stop being an anonymous internet troll stomping on everyone’s proverbial sandcastles and instead write a poem. K bye ✌️ )

[daycourtofficial]

Bad Idea

Summary: feeling a bit neglected by your mate, you decide to try to make him jealous by dancing with another male. Very little plot, mostly just smut ngl.

Warnings: Azriel is a mean dom, so uh literally.. spanking, cockwarming, degradation, light choking.

Author’s note: fuck it, I want jealous Az, and dammit I’ll have jealous Az. Also I’m headcannoning that Az wears boxer briefs idk why I feel like he’d like the sleekness of them.

-

You knew it was a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid idea. You couldn’t help yourself, though. Your mate had been gone all week on a mission, his return culminating in everyone at Rita’s - dancing, drinking, having a good time.

Your mate kept talking to his brothers, hardly passing you a second glance when a male approached you at the bar. You looked to see if he’d noticed, and growing tired of his lack of attention, you decided to indulge the man at the bar. Truth be told, the man wasn’t really interested in you. You two struck up a conversation about your shoes, leading you to discussing your own mates.

Wren, he told you, was here because he loved dancing, but his mate did not. You could understand the sentiment, the same opinions being held by you and your mate. So you asked Wren to dance and made your way to the dance floor.

You danced for what felt like hours with Wren, having an incredible time. Lost in the music, through the haze of alcohol, it was easy to push aside your feelings of neglect. Every so often you’d look towards your mate, only to find him looking elsewhere. You and Wren left the dancefloor for some water, him telling you he should be on his way home. You bid each other farewell, and you realize your mate is nowhere to be found.

You stumbled home, forgoing your heels a block from Rita’s. The house is dark, not a single light on inside. You roll your eyes walking up the steps to your door, assuming Azriel was still speaking with Rhys and Cassian somewhere.

You slipped through your house, tossing your shoes on the floor as you walk up the stairs to your bedroom. You pushed open your bedroom door, closing it softly behind you. You pad through the room, reaching to unzip your top when a heavy weight presses into your back, pushing your front into the wall.

You start to scream, but a scarred hand wraps around your mouth. The force has your hands above your head with one hand, your mouth covered with the other.

“That’s no way to greet me, my love.”

Your mate’s voice eases the primal fear deep within you, but the tone of his voice causes a new fear to ripple through you.

“In fact,” he says, his whisper sending chills down your spine, “nothing you did tonight was an appropriate way to greet your mate after a week away.”

You muffle some sounds, trying to explain to him that he wasn’t even looking at you for most of the night, but he keeps his hand steady on your mouth, curling some fingers around your jaw to keep it locked in place.

His wings wrap around both of you, coccooning you from the world, as if his next words were meant only for the two of you.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, “my mate, my wife, my soul.”

He releases your hands, but the loss of contact is quickly replaced by his shadows holding your hands together.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to remind you of that fact, until you’re so fucked out you’re just left a drooling, twitching mess.”

He releases you from the wall, your weight sagging from him holding you up, but before you can fall, he holds you around the hips, dragging you to the bed. His shadows were in a frenzy around you, and he pushes you down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.

“I’m not the only one possessive of you,” he says, as shadows start swirling around your legs, your arms, your waist, your neck. You tried to lift yourself up, but they held you down. Azriel turned, walking to the bar cart you two kept in your room, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as his shadows held you down.

“They were so upset with you,” he says, the whiskey coming close to his lips. “They wanted me to make a big show in Rita’s about who you belong to, but I told them to wait, and I’d let them have their fun.”

Two shadows traveled up your thighs, and your eyes widen, remembering what’s underneath your skirt.

“Don’t worry,” he drawls, sitting in his leather chair to have an unobstructed view of you. A shadow swirls behind your back, unzipping your top and pulling it off of you. They do the same with your skirt, but they leave your overly optimistic crotchless panties and matching bra on. “I’ll make my way to you, eventually.”

Your mate tsks as he looks at you, his shadows holding you down so you can’t move. They start touching your entrance, their cool, airy touch leaving you needing more.

He stands a few feet away from you, his drink in his hand as he watches his shadows hold you in place to keep you from squirming. Your back arches as they snuck under your bra, pinching your nipples. He chuckles into his drink as a few shadows start circling your clit, your moans a clear indication of how good they feel against you.

His shadows found their way in your shared bed, usually assisting Azriel in touching you or holding you down. On rare occasions such as this, Azriel lets them do as they please, allowing them to lay as much claim to you as he does.

It was euphoric the way they caressed against your exposed skin, never staying still. They whirled and swirled up your legs, your arms, through your hair, around your waist, your breasts. They were enjoying this time with you.

Azriel walks over to the bed, lust coating his eyes and his scent as he asks, “had enough yet?”

You open your mouth to speak, but some shadows circle your neck, applying a light pressure so you can’t speak. Your futile attempts to respond cause him to smirk and in a flash the shadows have stopped roaming your body. Your skin warms at the loss of their cool touch, and you start to move your arms when scarred hands replace the shadows, keeping a harsh grip on your wrists.

He leans down, practically laying on top of you as he leans in and tells you, “undress me.”

Your thoughts still, that need for his skin coming back to you. You sit up immediately, reaching to unbutton his shirt, but he stops you.

“Undress me without touching my skin.”

You whine at your mate knowing exactly why you did everything that led you here. You sit up, hands shaking as you unbutton his shirt. He even turns around so you can undo the buttons underneath his wings. You can’t stop yourself from staring at them, their veins just calling out to you to stroke them, that one spot that you know drives him wild calling to you like a siren.

He chuckles at how long you’ve spent observing him, your eyes taking in every inch of his back. The toned muscles, the tattoos on his upper back, the spot where his back meets the wings.

You find yourself starting to reach out, your fingers inches from his wing when he clears his throat.

“I’m still wearing pants,” he says, in an unimpressed tone. You gasp, the trance on his wings broken as he turns around, allowing you access to his front.

Your eyes roam his torso, the tattoos on the front completing the shapes from the back. You watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes, as your eyes get caught on that line of hair that delves into his pants.

You reach a hand out to undo the laces of his pants, your hands shaking a bit as you do so. From need for him and from fear of punishment if you break another rule, you’re not sure which is influencing the shaking of your hands more.

You take a deep breath as your hands find the top of his pants, taking extra care to avoid his skin. You start pulling his pants down, receiving no help from your mate until they are around his ankles and he steps out of them.

You look at him, standing there in his black boxer briefs, practically drooling thinking about what lays underneath them. You’re gazing at his thighs, looking at the toned muscles he trains every day. He flexes a little at your gaze and you gasp at the movement.

The urge to run your hands up and down his thighs is taking over your senses, until his hand grabs your jaw, moving your gaze to look at his clothed hardened length.

His silent command gets you moving again, and you grab the waistband of his undershorts, pulling them down, taking care as it moves over his length.

His hard cock springs up, hitting his abdomen as it’s freed. You moan at the sight of it, but continue your quest to pull them all the way down. He steps out of them again, and moves to the side of you to lay down on the bed.

He lays there for a beat, his Adonis-like stature warming you from the inside. He grabs your waist, moving each of your legs to straddle him, but keeping you about a foot away from him.

He lines up his hard cock to your entrance, leaving you to hover a few inches away from him. You moan, needing him to let you slide onto him, needing him inside you.

“P-please,” you moan, practically drooling at the sight of the pre-cum spreading down him. He purrs, “My greedy little mate needs my cock, does she?”

You nod your head, but he tuts at you. “Use your words.”

You look at him, his teasing smirk telling you just how much he’s enjoying this. “Can I p-please sit on your cock, feel you inside of me?”

His smirk deepens, and he tells you to go ahead. You start sliding him into you, moaning at the way he’s stretching you. He’s still keeping you in place with his hands, and he helps you guide down onto him.

Once you feel him completely fill you up, you start to move, only to be held back. His hands keep you still, not allowing you to budge. You whine, needing to ride him, needing to fill him pumping in and out of you. He sees how desperately you need him and smiles.

“But darling, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

It’s too much, you need to move. His hands were pressed so hard into your hips, keeping you both in place and keeping himself as deep into you as possible. You can feel them digging into your skin, leaving perfect finger shaped bruises to be found tomorrow.

You could have been sitting there for minutes or days and you’d have no clue. Time crept on, your mate keeping you in the same spot, despite your whining and pleading.

His shadows kept busy, keeping a hold on your hands behind your back, but also by circling your nipples, pinching you. They continued swirling up your thighs, enjoying overstimulating you.

The stimulation becomes too much, with tears eventually leaking down your face, which the shadows gently caress away. Azriel finally speaks, his long silence another form of punishment. His words are usually full of praise for you, except for when you misbehave.

“Now, why am I doing this to you?” He asks, looking into your face.

“Because I was a bad girl.”

He spanks you, hard, the action startling a whimper out of you. His hand rests back on your hips, keeping you in place. “Tell me every bad thing you did tonight.”

And so you did, each action earning a swift slap on your ass.

“I left you to go to the bar by myself.”

Spank.

“I talked to another male.”

Spank.

“I danced with another male.”

Spank.

In between each confession, he held tightly to your ass, rubbing the pain in. At this rate, you’ll hardly be able to sit tomorrow without feeling the sting of this punishment.

After finally reaching the point of the night where you had greeted him with a shriek, the tears were streaming down your face, your ass covered in his hand prints.

“Now, who do you belong to?”

“You.” You tell him, tears clouding your vision. “I won’t disobey you again.”

He chuckles lowly, “oh I know you won’t.” He lifts you off of himself, a whine coming from you as he pulls you off his cock. “Now you’ve made quite a mess on me,” you look down, his thighs and cock covered in a sheen of your juices. “Clean it up.”

Hands still behind your back, you lean forward, licking his thighs, tasting yourself mixed with his sweat.

“Can you taste the desperation?”

You whine, as he holds your head down to his thighs. After successfully cleaning both of his thighs, he guides your head right in front of his cock, the tip mere inches from your mouth.

You’re staring at it, needing it inside you, watching pre-cum leak out of the tip, when he laughs at you.

“Drooling over my cock already?”

You blush, not realizing you had actually drooled over the appendage in front of you.

“Do you want a taste?” He asks, and you nod vigorously. “Stick out your tongue,” he tells you, and you immediately obey. He allows you to roam his cock with your tongue, tasting both of your juices mixed together.

“Put me in your mouth.”

You open your mouth, allowing him entry, and he immediately begins pushing in and out of you. He grabs your hair, holding you in place. You look up at him and he makes direct eye contact with you as he pushes himself as far into your mouth as he can go. He tells you, “I’m going to cum in your mouth, but you’re not allowed to swallow it. Got it?”

He pulls a little harder on your hair to tell you he’s serious. His shadows hold you in place as he fucks your mouth, until you feel him pick up the pace.

After a minute of his intense thrusting, he’s cumming in your mouth, his hot seed shooting into your throat.

“Now open.” He tells you, and when you open your mouth, he smirks at the semen in your mouth. Before you realize it, he spits in your mouth and tells you to close it.

“Now,” he tells you, his face right in front of yours, “no swallowing. I want you to be full from my cum in your mouth and your cunt, in hopes you can get it through your dumb little head that you belong to me.”

He’s pushed you onto your back and has slid back into you. An attempt at a moan comes out but is blocked by the semen in your mouth.

He chuckles, “you don’t want to know what will happen if you swallow before I tell you to.”

He starts pumping into you, filling you with his cock. He’s thrusting in and out of you, and you’re not sure you can take anymore when he moves a hand down and begins fingering you.

You close your eyes and tilt your head back in pleasure, unable to moan because of the cum in your mouth. You’re getting close, all of his attention and teasing being too much. You feel it building for both you and your mate. You know he’s close, his speed increasing drastically.

“You’re going to swallow right as I cum in you. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl for one minute?”

You nod your head yes, but the ecstasy you feel is making thoughts incredibly difficult. He wraps a hand around your throat, his thumb stroking the front of your neck.

“Swallow. Now.”

It all happens so fast. You swallow the mixture of spit and cum, the salty tang sliding down your throat. Azriel finishes inside of you, his cum filling you up triggering you to finish.

You lay there, him on top of you. Both of you are panting, unable to form thoughts or words to describe what just happened. Azriel rolls off of you, moving to your side.

He strokes your cheek and asks, “You okay?”

Your hand slowly rises to his field of vision, and you give a thumbs up. He laughs, caressing your face before getting up and getting you a rag. He comes back, helping you clean up while you’re half asleep.

“You’re hot when you’re jealous,” you tell him, falling asleep as he discards the washcloth and crawls into bed with you, wrapping you into his arms.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! Reader) Part 1

Synopsis: You approach Astarion at the Tiefling party and get rejected. Everyone else and Astarion knows he made a mistake, but you certainly don't.

Author Note: I LOVE Shadowheart- okay. Love her, but she is also my favorite hot girl rival in my fiction. No idea why. I just also love the idea of her being best friends with a Selunite by the end of her journey (or ship her hardcore with an Oathbreaker Paladin)

CW: Sad boi rejection hours, mentions of sex, mentions of Dead Dove.

Based off of a post by @golden-baby

(I also listened to Avril Lavigne’s Nobody’s Fool while writing this and it’s very good if you haven’t heard it)

(IDK Who this gif belongs too, but it is not mine)

You have always been the first person to throw yourself into a situation and help others- it was what had drawn you to being a Cleric of Selune in the first place. 

 You miss being a young cleric studying the life domain under the stars and the bright moon. You miss not feeling so terrified. 

 All this tadpole has brought you is anxiety and fear, you have a feeling it will be okay. You are here for a reason and you trust that Selune needs you to trust her. 

 Meeting Shadowheart had certainly confirmed that- she obviously was plummeting down the wrong path, but she has also flipped this thinking on you a few times. Only, you cannot understand following a Goddess as cruel as Shar. She has obviously brought serious damage to Shadowheart’s life and you are determined to support her- whether she gets away from Shar’s doctrine now or fifty years from now, you will be here to help her when the time comes.

 In spite of your differences, you actually go to the same spot and pray together- farther away from each other, but the sentiment is still there. Occasionally you drink together after a particularly weird or bad day. You find you both can talk about your religious beliefs and you are open to hers which in turn has begun to show her how to be open to your religious doctrine. It’s nice to have someone to talk about the bigger powers at play- even if that person opposes your Goddess so viciously. You don’t really care- you know followers of Shar are hurt people hurting people. They need love just as much as the next person. 

 Lae’zel has been a tougher nut to crack, but you have provided sympathy where you can and support her. You promised her that you would all head to the mountains and search for the Creché. If the cure is there- she will get it. That has made Lae’zel feel better a few times.

 Karlach just wants a good life and to talk about the joys of Life, Gale wants someone to talk to about magic and help finding magic items, and Wyll just wants to feel accepted and like he is still the mighty Blade of Frontiers.

 Then there is Astarion.

 You have been head over heels for the man since he knocked you to the ground and questioned you. You could probably stare at him forever if it wasn’t so Gods damn creepy. 

 You practically bend over backwards to help him- far more than you do for others, anyhow. He seems to like you and you have definitely thought about asking him to go on a date with you at some point. 

 But then you think about how not romantic having a tadpole in your head is and nix the idea. 

  You listen to him whenever he speaks to you, any books you find usually end up going to him. Gale is still pretty upset about the Necromancy of Thay. 

 Any new short swords, daggers, arrows, bows, crossbows, armor, potions, etc- you name it, you probably already gave it to him. You often think you may be far too obvious with your affections, but it’s the only thing you know kind of appeases him.

 Every decision you make he despises and makes a point of mocking you for. Karlach is often telling him to knock it off, but that usually just makes it worse so you just laugh it off even though it hurts. You just remind yourself that he lived as a slave for the last 200 years and you are the first to admit that your Goddess failed to save him. You don’t know why, but it is what it is. Maybe one day he will see that not all people are his ruthless master. 

You also let him drink from you every three or so days. If he is injured in battle- you are first to offer him another drink. 

 Astarion calls you, “Darling '' from time to time and you thought that might be something, but you also heard him call Karlach and Shadowheart that too. 

 You feel so conflicted when you go to bed- he seeks out Shadowheart and never you at bedtime. He spends all night talking to her about Gods only knows what. You are certain some of it is mocking you, but you try to remain optimistic. He wouldn’t do that- you have been nothing but kind to him. What could he even say?

 Tonight is the first night that he is by himself and not talking to Shadowheart. You can do it- just go up and ask him if he would like to take a walk with you. No big deal. 

 “Hi Astarion,” you say softly, “are you having fun?”

“No- no thanks to you, by the way.”

 Your smile falters slightly, but you rebound. 

“I’m sorry- I wasn’t trying to ruin your night.”

 Astarion rolls his eyes and flashes a smile that makes your breath catch. 

 “I suppose it couldn’t be helped, Darling,” he says with a dismissive wave, “you and all your do gooder nonsense was bound to get us here eventually.”

 You smile brightly- happy with the positive step forward. 

“How rude of me- I forgot to ask- how can I help you this evening?” 

  This is the big moment- you can do it! 

“I was-“ you clear your throat, take a deep breath and avoid his eyes, “I was wondering if you would want to go on a walk with me on the beach later?” 

 Astarion blinks a few times and you think you see the hint of a smile- it makes you feel slightly optimistic. 

 Until it turns into a snort and a laugh he can’t hold back.

“You are so naive,” your heart drops, “whatever gave you the impression that I would want to ‘go on a walk’ with you?” 

 You frown, a lump in your throat is beginning to form and you feel so embarrassed that you wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain yourself.

“I- you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I am glad we could clear that up.”

“Me too,” you say with a forced smile, “good night.”

“You don’t have to-“

 You walk away- all the horror and heartbreak simply being far far too much to bear. How could you be so positively stupid? 

 Your mother always chastised you for this kind of thing- you give and give and give, hoping it will make people love you, but it never works. They will take everything from you and then some because they can. 

 You sit on an alcove overlooking the camp- far enough away that you hopefully won’t be spotted by anyone. You wish you hadn’t- you just barely catch a glimpse of Astarion dragging the all alluring and elusive Shadowheart away into the forest. 

 You are diminished to tears- your heart feels like it has splinters all over it and your stomach feels like it may twist before collapsing in on itself. 

 You are about to give up and leave, but the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention. 

“It’s just me,” Wyll says with his hands up, a friendly smile on his face, “you seemed like you may need a friend.”

 You laugh and wipe your tears away, “and here I thought I was hiding it so well.”

 “You do, my friend,” Wyll says before putting a hand on your shoulder, “what troubles you?” 

 “You are going to think I’m stupid.”

 Wyll laughs lightheartedly, “I have seen and done my fair share of ‘stupid’.” 

 You inhale deeply and tell Wyll your story- from start to finish. You are a crying mess by the end of it- so much so that Wyll actually maneuvered you and began cradling you in his arms. 

 His heartbeat helps steady you- the connection to nature and the ground is helpful. It makes it all feel a bit better- you suppose.

 You eventually sit back down next to Wyll- your face is blotchy and red, tear stained and puffy. 

“I have noticed that you give Astarion all of you,” Wyll says with a frown, “spirit, body, heart, and mind.

“Maybe it is time to stop- set some boundaries for yourself. I am sorry that you did not get the answer you wanted, but at least now you know and that is a blessing. You can now look for someone who truly wants you and gives equally as much as they take.” 

 You nod. You had hoped to hear more of a, “he will come around” message, but you know this is the better, healthier message. You despise it, but it’s true.

 You and Wyll spend time talking about other things. You tell him how you hope to open your own clinic one day and help people who cannot afford it. Wyll tells you about the Sword Coast, his failings, and his own trauma. 

 He teaches you different constellations, the different flora in the area, and what the fishing season was like when the town was functioning and Wakeen’s rest was up and running. It sounds like it was a beautiful place to live before all of this nonsense erupted.

 It’s fun and Wyll makes you feel seen and appreciated. He still isn’t Astarion, but you know it will take some time before you can look at someone else and that’s okay.

 Wyll walks you back to camp and you don’t bother to look over at Astarion’s tent nor do you go that way like you usually would. You noticed he was back and so was Shadowheart. Both of their clothes were ruffled- it’s been at least two hours so you can only imagine.

  “Good night, Tav,” Wyll kisses you on the back of the hand before engulfing you in a large hug that you gladly accept, “sleep well- tomorrow will be better.”

 You go to your bedroll and begin to open your healing magics book when a knock on your tent post gets your attention. Maybe it’s Wyll. He did say he enjoyed talking to you, maybe he wants to spend the night? That doesn’t seem overly realistic though- he is a perfect gentleman.

“Come in,” you say, still not looking up, “what’s up?” 

“I was hoping I may be able to get a small snack?”

 Oh. It’s Astarion.

 You just fed him earlier today before the party. Usually you would say yes, but Wyll is right- you can’t keep giving him everything and leaving nothing for yourself. 

“I- I am really sorry,” he frowns and his ears even droop, “I am just really tired and I don’t-“

“No worries, Tav.” He says with a forced smile on his face, “have a good evening.”

  You are shaking after he leaves the tent. You cannot believe you just did that. You set a whole boundary. 

 No he did not call you by a pet name nor did he flirt with you. Yes he frowned and it made your heart hurt, but you need to start putting yourself first. 

  You still cry yourself to sleep and you wake up early enough to wash your face with cold water- any evidence of your heartbreak is completely gone. 

     ***********************************************

 You have managed to really avoid Astarion for the last four, almost five days. You let him feed because you don’t want him to starve to death, but you found out that casting “calm” on yourself beforehand keeps your adrenaline from kicking up so you no longer react to him.

 You cry afterwards, obviously, but he doesn’t need to know that. He is right- he never did anything to make you believe he liked you and it was very naive of you to assume he did. However, you do commend yourself for your courage to try and you even walked away with your dignity. 

 At the end of the day, you are proud of yourself and you love yourself more than anything. You will continue your mission and continue to help people because you enjoy helping people. Right now, this group of weirdos needs you and you need you so that you all make it out of this nonsense alive.

 That is more than enough to keep someone busy.

 First there was a Hag to fight, then you unfortunately had to kill a monster hunter (you didn’t talk to Astarion about it afterwards, that is Shadowheart’s job), and fought a bunch of spiders off- which also brought up the Necromancy of Thay argument again. That was exhausting. 

 Astarion opened the door on a Bugbear and Ogre bumping uglies, you also had to really put your foot down so that he wouldn’t send a dark Gnome flying. He was quite frustrated with you, but he understood your reasoning enough to not do it. 

 Then there were the Gnolls and Astarion had opened the chest which caused the Zhentarim guild to attack and try to make you all explode. Thankfully you were able to save that weird artist, but no one from the guild survived. 10/10 supplies though. 

 There are things to be done and places to see. Exploring the Underdark first made the most sense. It upset Lae’zel, but she said she trusts your judgment which warms your heart. 

 It is certainly not a quick or easy journey to get to the entrance inside the abandoned temple of your Goddess. You can hear Shadowheart saying snarky things- Astarion snorts here and there, but doesn’t actually chime in for once. 

 At least you get some relief from that for a day. You wrap your hand around your Moondrop pendant and you already feel the love of Selune flow through you. You kept the statue as well and you keep it next to you- last night you actually slept with it in your hand. 

 You had grown up exceptionally poor and your parents died from some disease in the mines where you were all imprisoned. The mine was eventually raided by Selune clerics and paladins- you immediately knew that is what you wanted to be. Selune had saved you right before you were being shipped to another location and you lived with her clergy ever since.

 You were grateful you had a potion of flying as well as the support of the others to keep the moonstone. Even Astarion expressed his approval when Shadowheart became upset. You waited until it killed the Minotaur, of course. The splash of blood that hit the group wasn’t necessarily welcome, but oh well.

  And at least you don’t have a ridiculous name.

 You snicker to yourself as you walk- earning an odd look from Gale who is covered in Minotaur blood. You urge him to keep talking about whatever book he finished last night and he gladly dives back into the subject. 

 Finding a decent spot to camp was actually pretty easy. The camp is beautiful and your tent is set up next to Karlach’s. She convinces you to make a massive tent fort and Fort Tavlach is born. 

 You pass a bottle of wine back and forth as you talk. Karlach is letting you hug Clive as you talk about the tiefling party and the aftermath of everything.

“Is that why those two are sitting next to each other so miserably?” 

You cock your head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“What I mean is they look miserable and haven’t stopped fighting for the last three days,” Karlach states with a raised eyebrow, “have you really not been paying attention?”

 You shake your head. Karlach gapes at you, chugging a bit of the wine before passing it back.

“Well- I have been waiting to tell you all day, but Shadowheart finally told me what they were fighting about.”

 “Oh, Karlach, I really should-“

“Two nights ago, they tried to be intimate again and he said your name during the act itself.”

 You simultaneously choke on and spit out your wine- some of it comes out of your nose. You can’t stop coughing and Karlach is dying laughing- she is crying she is laughing so hard. You are crossing your arms and uncrossing them in front of your face- a look of bewilderment as you process what just happened.

“mE!?”

 This just makes Karlach laugh even harder, she goes running straight for behind a rock- screaming that she is going to pee herself.

 The entire camp is looking over in curiosity and you just wave awkwardly. You catch Astarion’s gaze from the corner of your eye and he looks sad- maybe even a little angry.

 He storms off to his tent and Shadowheart rolls her eyes, glaring at you before going off to her own tent. 

 Karlach eventually comes back and you both continue your drunken gossip.

“That- that can’t possibly be true,” you say, “I asked him on a date and he told me I was naive to think he would ever want to be with me that way.”

“What!?” Karlach looks like she may light the entire camp on fire, “why didn’t you say something! We could have-“

“No,” you chastise, “he is right. It was naive of me to assume- my hurt is no one else’s fault. I also chose to give him everything I had. 

“He doesn’t owe me, I wanted to do those things,” you affirm, Karlach is smiling softly, “I still adore him, of course, but this is for the best, you know? Wyll says it means I can set my sights elsewhere now that I know Astarion isn’t into me.” 

“That is very big of you, Soldier, look at you in your big kid pants.”

You roll your eyes and give her a playful shove.

“He has been hurt and used enough for a dozen lifetimes- I don’t want to contribute to that hurt.” 

“You are a good person, Soldier,” Karlach hands you the bottle of wine, “you know- Halsin would be an amazing lover. I am sure of it.”

 “You think?”

“Oh ho- let me tell you what I think, Soldier-“

 Karlach goes into her wild theories and you try so hard to listen intently, but your drunken mind is stuck on Astarion and wondering if he is okay.