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matchavellichor · 10 months

Note

If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊

Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️

A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶

You Drew Stars

f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words

Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...

Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow

The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew.

He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.

“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?”

“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”

“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”

She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”

He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page.

She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.

After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.

“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”

“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”

“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”

He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”

“What can I say, I’m enticing.”

Overwhelmingly, he thought.

He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.

They fell into a simple sort of routine.

Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.

He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.

She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.

He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea.

She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.

It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.

Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room.

Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries?

They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.

He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together.

Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.

“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”

“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”

“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”

“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”

He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?”

Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”

He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”

“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”

“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”

“Both?”

She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”

“We’re friends? This is news to me.”

She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”

“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”

He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens.

“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.”

You’re good for me, he thought.

“Call it self-preservation.”

“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”

“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.

He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”

She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.

Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.

They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.

They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.

“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?”

He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting.

She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue.

His mouth felt terribly dry.

He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.

Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax.

He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with.

He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his.

“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.

“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.

She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?”

He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”

She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.”

He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.”

She grinned. “Shut up and do it.”

He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery.

“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began.

He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.

“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”

She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips.

She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”

He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.

“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.”

He swallowed hard. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”

She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.

Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.

He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.

He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.

Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.

Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.

She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it.

She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.

When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough.

He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.

After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.

Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.

Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.

He adored kissing her. Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.

He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel.

She was bliss personified.

Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease.

His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.

After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction.

He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either.

“Tired?”

She shook her head. “Just missed you.”

He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”

She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done.

Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?

He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.

He loved having her like this.

Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him.

She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.

“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable.

She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming.

He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time.

A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.

“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.

She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.

His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.”

“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”

He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed.

“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”

Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.

Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room.

His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.

He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing.

“Have you ever…?”

He shook his head, sheepish. “No.”

She nodded.

A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”

She shook her head. “Never.”

His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”

She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”

“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”

“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?”

“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.”

“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.”

It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”

She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.”

Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.”

“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”

He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”

“Have you?” She grinned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.”

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”

“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”

“I won’t hold that against you, either.”

She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his.

He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.

“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care.

If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure.

She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.

He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate.

She tensed. “You don’t have to—”

“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”

Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”

It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.

“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”

She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.

He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s.

“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.

He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.

“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”

She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.

Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.

“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”

He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.

He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.

His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”

She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”

He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts.

“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust.

She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop.

“Christ, you’re — fuck,” Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”

He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut, being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,”

Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.

“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”

His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.

She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”

He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.”

She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.

“You’ve only just noticed?”

It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him.

His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.

Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.

“Fucking took you two long enough.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy imagine

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eumppattv · 4 months

Text

THAT’S MY TYPE | enha ot7

pairing ot7 x reader genre ᩍ fluff, idol! x idol!reader warnings ꕁ none ➜ masterlist a/n: permanent taglist is open!

heeseung ☆ ⊹ ๑

oh he wouldn’t stop smiling. both your groups were on a variety show, when the topic of ideal types came up. they had asked you to point at the member that fit your ideal type, and of course you pointed towards heeseung. at first he bowed and thanked you, trying to be funny. but this was only to disguise the red spreading across his cheeks. he spent the rest of the episode glancing towards you, and laughing extra hard at your jokes.

jay ☆ ⊹ ๑

you had been doing a dance jam type of live on weverse, when you got the request to react to enhypen’s new comeback. during the reaction it slipped that jay was your ideal type. next time jay went live, he read a comment about the incident, and immediately went red in the face. he awkwardly laughed, saying he was honored if it was true. he ended the live shortly after, as he couldn’t control his emotions. he was 100% flustered.

jake ☆ ⊹ ๑

our shy king. you had mentioned in an interview that jake was your ideal type, and it broke the internet. when you hosted an award show, you made a joke about it while announcing enhypen as the winners. the boys had forced jake to stand next to you when accepting the award, and he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. when he spoke into the mic, he made an awkward joke that sent the crowd into tears. he’ll never hear the end of it.

sunghoon ☆ ⊹ ๑

you were both mc’s on music bank. there was an artist with a song called “my ideal type”, and as part of the interview the artist asked who your ideal type is. you answered sunghoon, while taking a prop rose out from behind you and handing it to him. he then stuttered, forgetting the script in front of him. it took him a couple seconds to get back on track, and he was so so awkward afterwards. he stood still, scared he would be too obvious if he got close.

sunoo ☆ ⊹ ๑

he would pull an uno reverse on you. you were both invited to film a small idol youtube series, where you went on a “date” with each other. during the date you had mentioned that you would fall for him if you were on a real date, as he was your ideal type. sunoo’s brain freezes and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is that you’re his ideal type too. now it’s your turn to be flustered. he then kept being flirty the whole episode, i mean straight up making it known he’s into you.

jungwon ☆ ⊹ ๑

he is in leader mode 24/7, so he’s extra cautious. you were doing a joint stage with the boys, and jungwon happened to be your partner. while rehearsing one day it slipped that he was your ideal type. he swore he didn’t care, and that he wanted to stay professional, but he was over the moon. during the performance a week later, people would feel the chemistry between you two. it was the smirk he sent your way that fully convinced the fans that something was going on.

ni-ki ☆ ⊹ ๑

poor guy doesn’t know how to act. both of you were on a variety show episode for maknaes, and you had gone to the random play dance portion. you were in awe as he danced, and the mc noticed as they singled you out. you blurted out that ni-ki was your ideal type, and he malfunctioned. throughout the game he forgot choreo, including his own. he was all over the place the rest of the episode.

🝮 taglist open! bold can’t be tagged

@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @dior-girlie @gigification @wonnie-avenue @httpsneptvnn @dimplewonie @gweoriz @soul-is-a-strange-kid

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ eumppattv #enhypen niki #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jake #enhypen jungwon #enhypen jay #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunoo #enha headcanons #enhypen headcanons #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enha x reader #enha imagines

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katyawriteswhump · 5 months

Text

Steddie microfic: I got you

Steve loves it when Eddie rubs his chest.

Written for the December @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pine,’ 508 words. Originally inspired by the ‘pining’ idea, then it evolved and some extra pine turned up elsewhere!

Rating: T. CW: A couple of sexual references. Tags: shameless hurt/comfort, sickfic, fluff.

***

Their first winter, Eddie got sick. Then Steve got sicker. He took to their bed with a cough that scoured his lungs, rattled his ribs. When Eddie arrived, Steve buried his damp face in the pillow. “I’m all gross. G-go away.”

“Sorry, Babe.” Eddie rolled Steve over, fingers skittering soothingly across his brow. “Kinda guilty here. You scored my germs.”

“Always g-got chest infections as a kid.” Steve shivered. “Ask my m-mom.”

“She won’t talk to me, remember?”

“Ugh. Why are my f-family shitheads?” The pang of irritation proved too much. Steve’s next breath jammed in his lungs. A coughing fit consumed him. Eddie helped him sit, rubbed his back till the worst passed. Then Eddie removed his rings—huh?—pulled the covers over them, and spooned Steve from behind.

His warm hand slid under Steve’s t-shirt. He rubbed Steve’s chest, so gently Steve hardly noticed at first.

“I gotcha, Sweetheart. I gothcha.”

Steve’s shuddering breaths fell in sync with Eddie’s caresses, beneath which painfully taut sinews softened. Steve’s chest still burned, his breaths wheezy, but…

…Eddie’s touch got him, somewhere so deep it almost choked him again.

It became a regular thing, in sickness and health. Eddie’s guitar-string callused strokes across Steve’s chest—sometimes firm, sometimes soft—set Steve sighing, groaning, purring like a cat. He even adored the cool slide of Eddie’s rings, especially when they snagged in his hair.

One day, afterward, he littered Eddie’s agile fingers with kisses. “Wanna marry your hands.”

Eddie quirked a brow: “You got a mighty fine chest, Babe.”

Steve grinned, sent his own hands south on a far dirtier mission.

Next winter, Eddie scored a touring gig with a band who’d lost their guitarist. Steve missed him like crazy, ignored that tell-tale tickle in his throat, and went to work—peddling hotdogs in the snow. Eddie called daily around 3am, always losing track of time. Steve mainlined cough medicine and pretended so hard:

“I don’t miss your mess, man. I cleaned the shit out of this place—totally reeks of Pine-Sol.”

“Haha. Miss you too, Stevie.”

“Riiight. If you blow the drummer, I’ll repave the drive with your vinyl collection.”

Steve got sicker. The pine stench of the stupid polish caught on his chest. He coughed himself raw. That night, Eddie didn’t call.

Or, Steve didn’t hear.

When he woke, he tried to sit. Flopped back down. He was shivering, out of water, and coughed till tears streaked his face and blood spattered his hand. Scared now... He drifted, never quite sleeping, coughing less, instead struggling to drag whistling breaths. His bones ached. His head ached worse. Freakin’ terrified…

A gentle touch revived him: “Babe?”

He blinked. Eddie?

“You didn’t answer last night. Caught the first flight home.” Seriously? “Do I need to take you to ER?”

“No,” wheezed Steve.

“Don’t be macho, dude.”

“Need c-cuddle.” That ‘not macho’ enough, Honeypie?

Steve was too sick for decisions, so let Eddie make them. Much later, when Eddie slid into bed behind him and rested a warm hand on his chest, he knew he was mending already.

***

Thank you for reading :) Also posted on my AO3 here

#steddiemicroficdecember #steve harrington whump #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie x steve #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steddiemicrofic #steddie

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crepesuzette2023 · 5 months

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Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

#fic rec #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #mclennon fic #asks #fic recs #overall favorites fic recs

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hina-hina · 1 year

Note

141 walking in on reader getting dressed.. like how you think they would react

Hello friend!! This is such a silly request! As always, there will be no nsfw but I'll still do my best! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (○｀ 3′○)

→ COD Masterlist

|| Task Force 141 Accidently Walking in on Reader Getting Dressed ||

Tags: Crack, blushing, embarrassment, bit suggestive,

Warnings: None

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic-ish

|| Ghost

I can see Ghost has a bad habit of not knocking

He's used to people standing at attention as soon as he enters a room so he isn't really thinking when he goes barging into your room

He didn't think he would be barging in on you changing

Despite this, he is very professional about it

Would quickly pull the door almost completely closed and very steadily tell you that you are needed

Despite his professionalism, he would be blushing a little beneath his mask and would refuse to make eye contact for a while afterward

I don't see him as the type to apologize though, he would rather just pretend the whole thing didn't happen at all

Will immediately shut you down or walk away if you try and talk about it afterward

|| Soap

Soap would also barge into your room just because he isn't paying attention

Like, if he has something he is supposed to tell you, he is just focused on finding and doesn't even think to knock

So when he opens the door and sees you changing he freezes up

Just stands there until you yell at him/throw something at him

When you snap him back into reality, he would quickly avert his gaze and stumble out why he was looking for you

May also stumble and struggle not to stare

Then, when he realizes he is still standing in your room he would jump back out into the hallway and slam the door

He takes off down the hall, trying to use a hand to hide his blush

Would feel bad, thinking you were made at him

This would cause him to eventually approach you to apologize

If you were to tease him during this interaction, he would just melt

|| Gaz

I imagine that Ghost in this scenario would be the type to knock but not wait for you to respond before coming inside

When he notices you are in the middle of changing, he immediately looks away and starts profusely apologizing

Would slam the door shut while still apologizing through the closed door

Would wait out in the hallway, probably pacing, until you came out

He would apologize directly and try to push away his embarrassment

If you assure him that it wasn't that big of a deal, or try to flirt, he would probably let out a little laugh because he feels silly for getting so worked up

If you show him you didn't really mind, he would def tease or make jokes about it

|| Price

Now, if you had been any other member of the 141 he would not be phased at all

But, if you were someone he was attracted to, he would be shocked by his reaction

But imagine he comes looking for you and he is respectful and knocks

He, unlike Gaz, he waits for you to respond

But when you tell him to come in, he is shocked to see you in the middle of changing

And the fact you don't seem to mind him watching

He is shocked to silence for a moment, not an easy task, as you stare at him expectantly

He would clear his throat and avert his gaze, trying to keep his voice steady as he tells you why he had come looking for you

He tries his best to keep his composure, especially because you are so relaxed about the situation

He would probably end the conversation with some kind of reprimand and abruptly leave

Thanks for reading!!

⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you @punziesworld @heaven-angels-world

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

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Am I the asshole for calling a (now ex-) mutual a stingy asshole?

So to start, I (NB20) am in a pretty rough situation, I'm facing homelessness soon, transphobia at home and work and my hours have been getting cut resulting in me making even less money that can sustain me. I have a toyhou.se forum post up stating I have emergency commissions open to help me out and to please support me if you can. This is where the situation begins. I have a mutual on toyhou.se who I'll call Apple (MTF22) I talk to sometimes to the point I'd say we are friends, not super close but friends nonetheless. She made a bulletin telling people about my commissions and to please comm me if they could which I'm very grateful for since I did get a few customers from her because of that. The thing is, a few weeks later, she made a bulletin talking about how happy she was so many commissions she bought were finished around the same time and posted all of them with the artists tagged in the post. It was honestly... quite a few, I'm talking like 9 pieces of art of her fursona and even a custom vtuber model she got of her sona. I was going to reply all happy for her, but it made me think... how much did she spend on those commissions?? So I went through all the artists socials to find their commission prices and came to a total of fucking $385!!! More than half of my current goal I'm trying to make through commissions to stay out of homelessness!! So I messaged Apple saying since I saw she bought a few commissions if she was interested in buying a comm from me. She replies saying "Ohh! I'd love to <333 but im just not in a place to buy any more comms right now :< sorry >.<!!" So I casually reply really? because it seems like your in the perfect place to help me out after already spending over $300 in commissions. She tells me she's sorry and really wishes someone would be able to help me out but she just wasn't that interested in my art or a custom to which I tell her she could've easily donated to my ko-fi which I have always had since she clearly has money to spend? To this, she straight up IP blocks me. So still fucking annoyed, I vented in a discord server I share with a few friends from being in a few shared CS together, saying how annoying it is rich assholes like her would drop half a thousand for a picture of their fursona but don't even blink twice at their so called friends. anyway, one of my friends takes a look at Apples th profile and notices she has a new bulletin up and sends me a screenshot, but anways the bulletin reads like "hey!! just saying, but please dont come into my dms acting like you know my financial situation better than i do, just because i buy a lot of commissions doesnt mean im made of money! and please dont think that me commisioning artist 1 means i hate artist 2? thats so weird, thanks!!!!!" and seeing all their subscribers just kissing her ass pissed me off so i made my own bulletin that just stated "i thought it was pretty fucking weird to know how bad ur friend's situation was and to go buy a bunch of comms instead of buying a comm from or even throwing a buck to help me out? like yeah im gonna think i know ur situation better than u, you stingy fuck!!!" Anyway, she mustve been block evading (which I reported her for) since she unblocked me, took a screenshot of my bulletin, then went on about how she lived in an abusive household; her dad had thrown her into a sink and chipped her tooth, bruised half her face and scarred it pretty badly. She bought a bunch of commissions immediately afterwards in a panic to make herself feel better, paying everything with her savings. Which to me.. isn't an excuse. Ive been hit and abused and still found scraps of money to pull together to give to mutuals who need it and Ive been bumping my own post like crazy and she had literal weeks to donate or comm me. Not to mention Ive had exmutuals of hers come to me saying that shes never donated anything to them either despite advertising their posts but always had money for plushies, comms and other crap, meaning Im not alone in thinking shes a stingy asshole. This is getting long, so here, tumblr AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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subskz · 6 months

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hi! i just wanted to say, i’m a sub and i avoid sub skz stuff bc it’s not really my taste. i scrolled though the lee know smut tag like a few weeks ago, and i came across strawberry lemonade. i know i avoid sub skz, but i decided to give it a try anyways. and oh my god, i think that was the best decision i ever made. i haven’t read any sub skz fics because i figured that i probably wouldn’t like it, but i’m so glad that i gave it a try because honestly i think i’m kind of into it. the way you write is actually so delicious. your use of descriptions is actually scarily good like it was so easy to visualize it all, and like oh my god your descriptions sounded so hot. and the dialogue too…sooo good!! i loved how it transitioned from playfulness to something more, i don’t know, hot? idk the whole fic is just hot. all the teasing and calling him kitten?? oh my god. dragging the cold popsicle against his skin and then licking it up with the warmth of your mouth?? the sudden change in temperature is just so hot. and oh my god, putting the popsicle on his cock??

“You rolled the treat lower to emphasize your question, wedging it against his balls and making his cock spasm wildly,”

HELLO??? THE VISUAL?? imagination running wild. balls unfortunately don’t get enough love, so that line made me go a little crazy. and the way his cock spasms wildly because of it is so ridiculously hot. and even when you’re doing all of that, he still tries holding onto his pride, which is actually soo cute. and then wrapping your lips around his cock?? ughhh, if just doing it against his thighs got me going crazy, this one definitely got me going even crazier. the contrast in temperatures is <33333!! and using the popsicle where your lips didn’t cover?? you’re gonna be the death of me.

“Gradually, you built up a steady pace, timing the strokes of the popsicle with your mouth so that every inch of his dick was being stimulated at once. Hot and frigid, sloppy and smooth, like you were freezing his body over and setting it back on fire. It wasn’t long before the dizzying blend of sensations became too much for him to handle.”

i’ll let that paragraph speak for itself because holy shit was that hot as hell.

“Don’t make me beg for it.”

“But you sound so cute when you do.”

HELLLLOOOOOO?????????? ugh your writing is just so scrumptious!! oh my god and when he finally lets go of his pride and starts begging, it’s sooooo <333333

“The strawberry slush dissolved against your tongue, cooling the inside of your mouth to create an icy blend of saliva that was far too much for his hypersensitive body to handle.”

OH MY GOD. i’m in love. and the part where you stop just to make sure he doesn’t get hurt is just so adorableeee!! many fics are just pure smut with no feelings, so it’s absolutely lovely when you included this little bit that shows that you care about minho <33

“Even the popsicle lasted longer than you.”

PLEASEEEE i lost it at that omggg.

sjiwnfienenf this fic was a masterpiece. was it kinda unsanitary? yeah. but does that matter? absolutely not. i loved it omg. super hot. i stalked your blog afterwards. read almost everything, just need to find the time to start reading butterfly bandage and a few others.

also, i wanted to hear your thoughts on domming skz for the first time? but if you’re not comfortable writing switch reader, then maybe pegging for the first time? (reading “safe” made me lose my mind omg)

hello hello! first off i just have to say that your entire message has me in shambles oh my god i can’t believe how sweet u are!! 😭 thank you so much for all your kind and encouraging words, it means a lot to me that you liked it! esp since sub skz isnt ur usual cup of tea i’m delighted that you took a chance on strawberry lemonade n ended up enjoying it <33

the way u caught on to so many little details throughout the fic and immersed urself in the descriptions is incredibly touching to me, you really read w a keen eye i appreciate it so much!! even to the point of sharing lil excerpts that you liked and noticing the slight tone shift at the beginning…ur too kind ㅠㅠ the contrasting temperatures was kinda what inspired the whole thing so i’m glad to know u found that hot hehehe what better way to slowly chip away at lino’s pride right~ and yes!! i try to sneak in softer moments whenever i can to show some love for the boys, i’m very happy u took notice of that part and that it’s smth you value as well! 🥰

thank u again for taking the time to send such a lovely message u really brightened up my day!! butterfly bandage is a bit of a journey haha…if you do end up reading it i hope you’ll enjoy the ride angel 💗💗💗

as for ur question! yes i don’t do switch reader, but i think i could do smth like going from a vanilla relationship to domming skz for the first time if you’d like? either way, i’ll add first time pegging thoughts under the cut here ^_^

chan - so shy, so so shy. he’s extremely self-conscious abt it bc he feels guilty for wanting smth that, in his mind, is almost solely for his own pleasure instead of yours. he’s a lil giver who always wants to satisfy you first, after all! still, he can’t deny how bad he craves trying it, he definitely researches pegging on his own (shoutout deadpool) and gets off to the thought of it, then feels insanely embarrassed w himself after. he doesn’t have the courage to ask you outright, but since u know him well enough, it becomes pretty clear to you what he wants through his indirect roundabout channie ways of hinting at it. saying things like “ur always slapping my butt *giggle* why do u like it so muchhh~” or “i saw some videos the other day and um. yeah haha. i was like wow, ppl are into some pretty interesting things, yknow?” or ofc the infamous complaining abt how fat his ass is…lmao. and after one too many times of him fiddling w his ears and giving u hopeful glances as he stammers his way through dropping hints, you finally accept that this man is never gonna ask for it himself and decide to take initiative instead

when you do, he bursts into flames 😭 he tries desperately to play coy n oblivious, but it’s so clear how much the idea excites him w how he goes bright red, he’s not fooling anyone~ channie is such a good boy though. even if he’s nervous, he does his part to try and prep himself for you on his own, experimenting w fingering himself and even looking for the right toys to get him used to being opened up. he does whatever he can to be ready for you and make the process more convenient, but he’d definitely still need to ease into it little by little. starting w you fingering him so he can adjust to being filled up like that, testing out some smaller toys, then eventually leading into the actual pegging after a few days or weeks. he needs you to take it slow the first time, be very gentle w him! bc not only is it a bit nervewracking to try smth new, he also just feels kinda vulnerable and insecure abt it. needs lots of convincing that this is smth you want too, and that you get all the pleasure you need just seeing him blissed out and falling apart underneath you <3

he’s a flustered wreck the entire time, squirming and avoiding eye contact and covering up his body bc he feels way more exposed than usual sprawled out for you, leaking against his tummy w his legs spread. but no matter how embarrassed he is, he’s still so loud once youre inside him. if you thought he was noisy before, the sounds he makes as you start to thrust into him are like nothing you’ve ever heard before, and he wouldnt be able to contain them to save his life ㅠ his moans are so sweet, emotive, and grateful. with the way they spill out of him nonstop, it leaves no room for doubt in your mind that he’s feeling so good that all his misgivings have washed away. he tries his best to stay communicative so you know what he likes, that he’s still okay and comfortable, but once he fully adjusts to the rhythm and feel of your strap inside him he gets lost in it pretty quickly and has a hard time staying verbal. all he can really manage is a broken groans of “ah, good”, whimpering your name over n over and slurring out pleas for more, but those are more than enough to let you know that he’s enjoying himself~ it kinda dawns on him as he’s being drowned in all this pleasure how lucky he is to have you and how safe he feels in that moment, he might even start to cry if his emotions are running particularly high that day. he needs a lot of praise through it bc, again, he wants to be reassured that he’s doing well for you when all of the focus is on him like that; it’s one of the few times he won’t religiously try to deflect all ur compliments. i think he’d wanna be in missionary despite his shyness, bc he wants to feel close to you. he’ll be hiding behind his hands or unable to hold your gaze most of the time, but he still wants to be face to face with you for kisses and soothing touches <3 he’ll definitely wrap his legs around you when he’s close to pull you in deeper, like he’s worried you might stop. or he’ll tug needily at your arm to pull you down against his chest, begging you to hold him as he comes undone. aside from the emotional intimacy of the position, he also feels a lil relieved that he can bury his face into your shoulder and hide away. if you pinned his hips down the mattress to steady him while he cums, he’d go absolutely wild. later down the line, he’d be very open to you fucking him rougher. he’d esp love for you to “mahandle” him a lil bit. even if he’s bigger/stronger than you, he gets such a thrill from feeling kinda helpless as he’s bent and folded and tossed around into any position you want. he’ll crumble instantly under your hands, just to hear you call him a good boy for obeying so eagerly <3 but despite that secret desire in him, for his first time i definitely think he’d need it to be soft!

lino - curious kitty #1…he is most definitely interested in trying it out. one of the hungriest for it out of all the boys, actually, and he’s honestly a lil frustrated that you haven’t suggested it yourself yet. bc though he can be pretty shameless abt asking to try new things, he also doesn’t wanna risk the blow to his pride if you reject the idea. his version of dropping hints is literally just staring holes into the back of ur head, hoping his telepathic signals will reach you and you’ll just know what he wants without him having to say it, bc god forbid he looks desperate in front of you (he is, but you dont need to know that). if you don’t bring it up yourself, eventually he runs out of patience and just deadpans it to you one day that he wants to try pegging, but he frames it as a joke just in case so he can giggle in ur face n act like he didn’t mean it if you aren’t into it lol. if you’re the one to suggest it, his heart kinda flutters bc lino really wants to be wanted by you. he wants you to go crazy over the thought of him writhing in pleasure underneath you, to see how pretty he looks getting fucked so you become just as hooked on it as him and ask yourself why you didn’t do this sooner. he definitely plays up his seductive behavior around you to try and get you to initiate it like the sneaky lil kitty he is

though he acts all fussy n huffy as if he’s doing you a favor, he’s actually very thoughtful behind the scenes just like channie. he tries to prep himself in private and does a lot of research on how to do it safely and properly for the first time. partially to make things easier for you, and partially so he can blow u away w how much of a “natural” he is heh…despite what he leads you to believe, he really wants to please you, too, even if he’s very adamant abt being pampered. he absolutely 1000% sucks your strap before you fuck him. even if he’s never done it before, he treats it like a must, and the way he works his mouth would make you believe he’d been doing it his entire life. he wants to show you what he can do for you too, kinda like he’s reminding you of why he deserves to be fucked so well in the first place~ given how experimental he is, you’ve probably already tried fingering w him before so it’s not smth entirely new to him, but the complete fullness he feels once you inch your strap all the way in is like nothing he could’ve ever prepared himself for. he gets obsessed w it instantly, both the pleasure that’s so intense in an entirely different way, and the whole new lvl of intimacy it brings to your dynamic

he tries to keep quiet at first, just letting out cute little grunts and hitched breaths as he gets used to the stretch. but the moment you start to consistently bottom out inside him, you’re in for the prettiest, most angelic sighs n moans you've ever heard from him. he might wanna start out in missionary bc he likes the eye contact and he feels more comfy being able to see you…he will be looking directly into ur soul w the most intense, sultry gaze that shows how much he really trusts you, it’s very hot in its own way hehe. that, coupled w the way his thick thighs wrap around you to urge you in deeper, tell you everything you need to know abt how much he loves it, even if he refuses to admit it outright. the faces he makes and the sight of him rocking his hips to match your movements are mind-numbing…he’s a dancer after all, he’s got very good muscle control and knows exactly how to move when he really wants to put on a show <3 as the pleasure picks up though, he gets a lil too drunk on it and becomes needier n needier, you can tell his composure is slipping as he starts to shake more w each thrust. he’s so focused on feeling good that he forgets abt his pride and starts whining for more, for you to go deeper, harder, faster. that’s how you end up in doggy style w him grinding himself down on your strap to meet each rock of your hips, grateful that he can whimper and drool into the pillows instead of letting his cries ring out in full volume. he’s usually pretty good at holding his noises back if he really wants to, but when you’re filling him to the brim over and over like that, there’s no chance for him to keep quiet. he’d love it if you squeezed n kneaded his thighs until deep imprints were left behind for days afterwards. and if you reach out to play w his nipples from behind or hook your fingers into his mouth, pulling his head back and making him salivate all over them as you repeatedly hit his prostate just right, he may just cum on the spot

binnie - w binnie, i can see it going either way when it comes to who suggests it first! he can be a lil clueless and detached from the world sometimes so he may not even really know what pegging is until u explain it to him. the way his face would change as you go into detail would be so adorable, he’s all nervous nose scrunches and awkward squirming. you can physically see how excited the idea gets him, and he’s down for it almost immediately. he’s honestly pretty flattered that you want him that way hehehe typical binnie, it fuels his lil leo heart like nothing else even if he’s a bit embarrassed over the idea of being in such a vulnerable position in front of you. he’d definitely end up looking up things like “how to look cool and sexy but also cute while getting pegged” as his version of preparation lol. if he’s the one to ask you for it, he’s so so endearing abt it. strangely quiet and timid, ducking his head, shuffling his feet as he struggles to mumble out the question…he’s literally one step away from sinking to the floor and covering his face once he manages to stammer the words. he gives you the most irresistible pout when you tease him for it, if you rest your hands on his hips n tell him how pretty he’s gonna look filled up w you, he will melt instantly. literally weak in the knees over just the thought of it, suddenly he's ready for you to take him right then n there hehe. lots of dramatic whines and swatting shyly at your shoulder through the entire process, bc even if he thrives off your attention, he’s still a teensy bit of a tsundere when he gets so much of it <3

his anticipation is obvious w the way he’s watching everything you do w wide, starry eyes and wiggling around constantly in the sheets. but even so, he tries to put on a brave front bc he wants to impress you, show you how good of a boy he can be for you! when you first push into him you’d get a lot of nervous babbling though 😭 he goes from “don’t hold back, i can take it” to “ah wait wait wait it’s big, slow down” to “it actually d-doesn’t feel that—moans” to “faster please, harder please, deeper please” he gets so talkative and vocal over every little move you make like he’s narrating his thoughts, it’s so cute. esp when you thrust into him extra good and suddenly he shuts all his rambling up w a sharp, high-pitched moan. he is so ridiculously whiny too, esp if you start to make playful comments here n there abt how he’s being such a good boy, taking you so well, moving his hips so well, like his body was made to be fucked like this <3 it simultaneously makes him glow w pride and flusters him out of his mind bc he isn’t sure it’s normal how turned on the thought of being your pretty lil doll makes him (it might be too much for him during ur first time but if you eventually added breeding into the mix he’d lose it mind). like channie, he’s extra starved for your praise when you peg him, so showering him w compliments is a must!! even if they make him pout for you to stop embarrassing him, he isn’t very good at hiding how much he basks in it. drag your hands all over his body and fawn over how strong n beautiful it is, call him your pretty boy as you pull him closer by his hips to reach deeper inside him, murmur how irresistible he is right before you sink your teeth into his broad shoulders ❤️‍🔥 he will literally be making the filthiest, most shameless, wanton sounds you can imagine, and hearing them only turns him on even more. i think binnie definitely has a thing for listening to his own moans when he’s really far gone hehe it makes him feel so slutty in the best way…his voice gets so sweet and cute when you’re making him feels worlds of pleasure he’s never felt before, who could blame him for loving the sound of it, really. also…cup his chest as you get rougher w your thrusts and he’s a complete goner. esp if you squeeze his pecs together and tease him for how they’re so big that you have to hold them down bc they keep bouncing hehe. all it would take is leaning down to suck on his nipples and he’s cumming untouched

hyunjin - he is most definitely thinking abt it from the moment you two get together. it’s smth he wants so bad but if he had to say it out loud he may actually just die of sheer embarrassment, so he keeps it to himself no matter how much he craves it. the question of if you’ll ever bring it up w him is constantly on his mind, bc even if you’re in a d/s relationship, he isn’t sure if you’d be into that aspect of it n he’s worried you’ll think he’s weird for wanting it…hyune’s another shy one who can have a hard time voicing his desires outside of the bedroom ㅠㅠ i think the only surefire way you could really draw it out of him is in the middle of a scene or right after one, where his emotions are still running high and he’s completely controlled by his desire without any of his usual inhibitions, that’s where he tends to say things that he’d be too hesitant to say otherwise, then blush over it later. he might get too lost in the adrenaline rushing through his veins and starts moaning abt how he wants you inside him, to fuck him until he can’t remember his own name, to make him yours in every possible way. it’s very intense and sensual, and at first you wonder if he’s just saying these things in the heat of the moment. but when you ask him abt it afterwards, he suddenly gets so quiet and shy, burying his red face into your neck n mumbling that he can’t believe he said those things out loud </3 and his reaction is all the confirmation you need to know he meant every word~

hyune’s neediness will be battling it out w his awkwardness the entire time you’re prepping him. poor baby is very self critical and can’t stop thinking abt all the things that could go wrong—if you won’t enjoy it, if he’ll look weird, if his size will make it a lil awkward to navigate…you’d need to be very observant of him n pay close attention to his expressions to make sure he’s fully relaxed bc his emotions show all over his face! once your fingers slip inside of him though, he starts to let loose, you can tell by the way his voice rings out loud and clear, suddenly not having any care in the world other than how it feels to be stretched out by you. seeing him slip into that headspace that’s so vulnerable yet so passionate is always smth to marvel at ❤️‍🔥it’s no secret that jinnie is very good w his hips and he makes perfect use of that talent in this situation. he’ll end up grinding down desperately against your palm without even realizing it, rolling his entire body and begging for your strap before you’ve even had the chance to add a third finger n fully open him up. just like chan, his reservations go out the window the moment you actually push the toy inside of him. he makes the most insane facial expressions, eyes rolling back, plump lips swelling and coated w drool from how much he bites down on them, thick brows scrunching together…when his sleepy eyes are blown wide w lust it makes for the most gorgeous sight <3 and if that isn’t enough to tell you how good he’s feeling, he is also extremely vocal too. lots of needy whimpers and groans that are so stretched out you’d think he was exaggerating them. even if he’s bigger than you, he’ll let you toss him around like he’s completely weightless into any position you want, he’s like putty in ur hands. he’d go crazy if you pulled his legs up on your shoulders (speaking of…catboy anon once had the idea of hyune spraying perfume on his ankles so you can smell it when they’re up by ur head and…he absolutely would 😵‍💫 he’s so thoughtful n romantic even when youre putting him through the mattress) if you snaked your hand up his body while taking him from behind and wrapped your fingers around his throat, he would fall apart in a matter of seconds. especially if you pulled him back against your chest by his hair or throat and held him there

jisung - han jisung has been waiting for this moment his entire life 🙏 from the beginning he hardly makes it a secret how desperately he wants you to peg him, he’s probably the one who asks for it first! even if you also have it in mind, he’s so eager that he doesn’t even give you the chance to pose the question, he’s one step ahead of you. long before you two ever discuss the idea, he’s already become very familiar w fingering himself and using all kinds of toys on himself…baby’s got bad hehe. he might even already have a strap prepared bc he’s hopeful that one day he’ll get to try it w you…n he’s definitely gotten off to the thought of it countless times 😽 he’s honestly a lil shameless once he learns that you’re just as down as he is, but his reaction is so endearing. he goes from stuttering out the question through breathy, awkward chuckles, to perking up like an excited puppy when you respond positively. his eyes practically gleam and he breaks out into the widest, sunniest smile repeating “really? really really? like, seriously? you’re not making fun of me, right? i’ll get really sad if you’re just teasing”…w his big doe eyes n hopeful face, who wouldn’t give him anything his lil heart desires

he’s ready to go right away, you may actually have to stop him from running to go retrieve his strap and bring it to you right then and there 😭 he’s so grateful and so enthusiastic, neither of you really anticipates the sudden bout of shyness that inevitably hits him once you actually start to lead up into the pegging. he’s fingered himself plenty of times before, and that knowledge makes for the perfect opportunity for you to tease him a lil, telling him to finger himself open in front of you so you can see how he likes it slide into him w ease~ he whines like crazy but still does his best to obey…lying down n spreading his legs for you, unable to mask the neediest whimpers that build in his throat the more he pushes into himself, wishing it was you instead. though his face is burning w embarrassment, he also sees it as a good opportunity to appeal to you, too. he tries to show you a preview of how pretty he’ll look once you finally fuck him, playing out his moans and facial expressions to rile you up. eventually, though, his patience wears thin and he just starts begging for you to take over ): after all, poor hannie has done this alone far too many times, he needs you. he’s so ridiculously squirmy once you finally ease into him, to the point where you might have to hold him down or restrain him somehow so you can fuck him properly. it’s difficult for him to sit still no matter how hard he tries, he’s just so full of energy and reactive to every lil bit of stimulation, keening desperately when you pull out of him and gasping dramatically when you thrust back in all at once. he’s never felt this full in his life and he feels like he could sob from relief finally getting to experience it. he wants to try everything—one minute he wants you to take him softly n sensually, the next he wants you pounding into him. he’d keep begging for smth new every few minutes bc he’s so eager he’s just aching to try it all, like he might not get the chance to again. that goes for positions too; missionary, mating press, doggy, full nelson, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, etc. he esp loves riding you bc he feels like he’s putting on a show for you! he gets to bask in all your attention and praises as he bounces on your strap, not bothering to hold back his whines and moans in the slightest bc he knows how much you love them <3 if you could manage to hold him up against a wall and fuck him like that w his legs hooked around your waist, he would absolutely lose his mind, he likes being manhandled a lil bit too. he wants you to just completely wreck him in every way possible, to the point where he’s covered w hickeys and bite marks and can barely walk afterwards. he will most definitely try to subtly brag abt it to the other boys abt it the next day, complaining abt how sore he is and letting out cute, exaggerated noises of discomfort when he sits down or exerts himself too hard…he’s a lil proud of it hehe but if anyone actually points it out he’ll turn beet red and curl into himself, trying not to get turned on all over again from the mere memory of what you did to him

felix - curious kitty #2! in lix’s case, it’s not really a matter of if, but when. pegging is smth he’s always wanted to try out given how eager he is to explore every kink under the sun w you, to him it’s more a matter of whether or not you would be willing to. you both fall into the roles so naturally in a way he's longed for his entire life, and once that trust is established n fostered between the two of you, he’s more than ready to give you his all knowing that he’ll be safe n accepted w you <3 even if he's a lil reserved n awkward abt it, he really makes it no secret what he wants, and he has the added privilege of looking so unfairly innocuous even when asking you to do the wildest things to him…you never quite know what to expect from him next. he’s definitely experimented w fingering himself in the past, but bc his fingers are so small a lot of the time it’s difficult for him to hit the right angles or satisfy himself properly, so he just ends up even more frustrated and needy, wishing you were the one fucking him instead ):

lixie’s a very thoughtful boy just like chan and lino, he wants to make things go as smoothly as possible to show you how grateful he is that you would do this for him! but he ends up being pretty reliant on you through the whole process, he can’t help but look to you for guidance on every little thing so his tendency to overthink means you might have to coddle him a lil more than usual ㅠㅠ he’s so sweet and obedient though, literally the good boy of your dreams following each gentle command you give him w a giddy smile. like minho, he’d absolutely love to suck your strap beforehand, both as a way to get it nice n wet and to turn you on…do not fall for those big, angelic eyes looking up at you as he takes the toy as far down his throat as he can…he knows exactly what he’s doing ❤️‍🔥 it also eases his mind a bit to be able to do smth for you, he gets so into it he almost forgets what’s to come and would gladly keep going until his voice is hoarse. once you first enter him (w plenty of lube…i think lix would need it hehe) he’d also love to just stay that way for a bit and “cockwarm” you…he gets a lil sappy abt it and just wants to be in your lap, face to face w you nestled inside him as he adjusts to the stretch. w lots n lots of kissing!! eventually though he starts to get a lil squirmy, letting out soft lil grunts, and you can feel him growing harder where his cock is wedged between the two of you. so you grab hold of his waist and encourage him to start riding you <3 lix would be another one who loves positions where he can feel small, even if he’s bigger than you! he’d feel so safe and secure nuzzling into your neck as he bounces on your lap, and being held down w his legs over his head in a mating press would make his brain melt into mush. i think his favorite would definitely be full nelson though hehe…smth abt how helpless and exposed he is in that position turns him on to an insane degree. he’d also definitely find a way to hold your hands in whichever position you take <3 the noises he makes start out very low and husky w your careful thrusts, but the more you pick up the pace the higher and louder his voice gets. he sounds so sweet and angelic, the moment you first hit his prostate he makes a sound that you have trouble even believing came from him bc of how squeaky it comes out, like a cute lil shout. if you had him in missionary, his legs would be wrapped tight around you the entire time, making it a lil more difficult to move bc he’s got some strong thighs but the gesture is so cute u dont mind. it also makes for the perfect opportunity to tease him that he must want you to finish inside him n fill him up…you can physically see the effect those words have on him. his eyes go so wide and his whole body shudders, and just like that he’s climaxing <3 a few days later you’ve got lixie looking innocent as ever, beaming at you as he presents you w the new ejaculating strap he got to make it a reality hehe

seungmin - minnie is shy!! not necessarily in the giggly, blushy, stuttery way like chan. seungmin is more modest, reserved, and quiet—a lil awkward abt it. out of all the boys, i think he would be the least inclined to try pegging, and he definitely isn’t the one to bring it up, so that’s all in your hands. when you suggest incorporating it into your dynamic, at first he’d probably be pretty unwilling to explore it and just flat out says no bc he just doesn’t think he could feel fully comfortable w smth like that. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t spend a lot of time mulling it over in private, even after he’s initially rejected the idea. his lil analytical virgo brain starts to think abt why you’d be interested in pegging in the first place, the new kinds of pleasure it would bring you both, the intimacy of an act like that, and how it might bring you and him closer together to experience. do not be fooled by his composure, kim seungmin is a sentimental softie who is very in touch w his emotions!! his desire to connect w you however he can extends to all facets of your relationship, and as daunting as the vulnerability of subbing can be for him sometimes, that vulnerability is the exact same reason why he values it so much. so, eventually, he decides that the same can be applied to bottoming for the first time and he changes his own mind hehe

he wants to be good for you. he’s so disciplined and obedient, he takes it very seriously and is genuinely a perfect sub (when he wants to be lol, sometimes he’s difficult on purpose) but when trying smth so out of his wheelhouse for the first time, he has some trouble shaking the awkwardness which makes him a lil stiff, a bit less pliant than usual. poor seungmo can’t help but be hyperaware of every sound he lets slip out, every expression he makes, every embarrassing, involuntary reaction his body has to your minstrations. so you can imagine how all of that would be turned up to a 100 when it comes to pegging bc all the focus is on him and his pleasure. he isn’t used to having that degree of attention on his body, esp not…those parts of his body. he’s even shyer than you’re used to during foreplay, just letting a few sighs and grunts slip and looking away timidly when you stare at him for too long. you’d have to be extra observant of his reactions and facial expressions to see what he likes the most, bc he has a tendency to suppress himself. one thing he does make sure to do though is periodically let you know that he’s still okay, through a quick lil nod or hand squeeze. he’d prefer to start out w him lying on his tummy, not facing you. it spares him the embarrassment of you seeing his features twist in pleasure, and he can also push his face into the pillows to mask all his noises. he might wanna wear a big hoodie or sweater to cover up his body too. i think he’d spend extra time adjusting in comparison to the other boys, partially bc he’s nervous n partially bc he wants to bask in the moment a bit. kinda like lix, he really values the closeness of just being connected like that and stays unmoving w you inside him for a while <3 he starts off swallowing down his noises so they only come out as cute, hushed lil whimpers, but as you start to ease in and out of him, even he can’t hold back as much as he wants to. it feels so strange but so relieving, almost like you’re fulfilling a desire he hadn’t even known was there until now. he mostly lets out gentle exhales and mewls, and when you hit his sweet spot for the first time, a full on gasp, which is pretty dramatic for seungmin hehe. even if you can’t see his expressions, you can see his fingers digging into the sheets and his muscles clenching with effort and his hips starting to rock into the mattress. if you leaned down to press kisses down his spine, he would shudder so beautifully n let out the sweetest moan for you. when he’s far gone enough to give in completely to the pleasure, he goes limp beneath you and allows you to flip him over so you can finally get a look at his pretty blissed out face. and when you do, he looks up at you w the most adoring lovestruck puppy gaze like you put the stars in the sky, just pure hearts floating in his big brown eyes that immediately lets you know he’s way more into this than either of you thought he’d be 🥰

jeongin - like binnie, i think there’s a good chance he might be kinda clueless as to what pegging even really is, so he wouldn’t be the one to suggest it first or even consider it an option. when you first introduce the idea to him, poor innie sputters smth like “eh? that’s a thing????” and you can practically see a whole new world of possibilities opening up in his wide, sparkly eyes. it makes his heart race a bit if he’s being honest, but he also feels a lil unsure abt it bc he’s never even really thought abt having anything…go inside of him…just imagining it gets him all squirmy, red in the face, n playing nervously w his ears. he’d probably call you a perv at first for even wanting smth like that and acts like he isn’t interested in trying it…however…just like seungmin, do not be fooled!! he spends the next several days thinking abt it, maybe a lil too often. in innie’s case he keeps going back to it partially out of curiosity, and partially bc he is very much a pleaser who craves your approval deep down, almost to the same degree as chan and jisung. he just doesn’t want you to know that hehe…unfortunately for him it’s kinda obvious in the way he brings it up many times afterwards, mostly through asking questions that he thinks are casual like “so…*clears throat* how big would it even be?” or “is it really supposed to feel that good?” or even nagging you like “seriously, why’d you have to say smth so weird? now i can’t stop thinking abt it” w lots of awkward giggles to make it seem like a joke but when he’s constantly making lil comments abt it unprovoked you quickly start to catch on hehe…he looks so genuinely hopeful and curious without even realizing, you can’t help but tease him a bit for how transparent he is

i think innie really wants to impress you! as you’re leading into the pegging he’s extra nervous and kinda out of his element, bc he feels like he can’t really do anything to appeal to you like usual…he sometimes tends to lean into the role of a service sub bc he feeds off your praises like nothing else. he loves when you teach him how to please you properly, even more so when he does it right and earns a proud reaction from you, a moan or a headpat and a "good boy". but when he’s the one getting all the pleasure…well, as much as he craves being the center of your attention, he inevitably gets a bit bashful. he will be hiding his face a lot, covering his eyes w his fingers or clamping his hand over his mouth trying to stifle himself bc the sounds that are leaving his lips are embarrassingly loud. like channie, he'd need a lot of praise and reassurance through it all! he can't even try to pretend like he's confident or knows what he's doing, and the entire time he's watching you w the widest, most fascinated gaze that gives away how much he really depends on you to guide him through it. he giggles so much, both out of shyness and in an attempt to ease his nerves. he can barely get a sentence out without tripping over his words or letting out breathy lil chuckles, and you have to periodically remind him to loosen up a bit as you're fingering him open bc he stiffens every time a jolt of pleasure passes through him. it’s all so unfamiliar but so good, he feels like he has no control over his body anymore, and that only amplifies once you actually slide your strap inside. he is gasping and writhing and letting out the most shameless moans he's ever heard in his life, but as much as it makes his face burn red, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself no matter how hard he tried. the best way to get him to relax and completely melt into it is to whisper sweet words to him through it all, tell him how pretty he looks and sounds when he’s feeling good, how well he's taking every inch of you even when he’s so tight, how he's such a good boy and a fast learner <3 jeongin quickly learns that the praises you give him simply for getting fucked into a cute moaning mess make his brain short circuit like nothing else, he could get addicted to it. i think he’s one of the most likely to go a lil dumb from it hehe…he leans a lot more into the guilty pleasure side of him that’s used to being pampered n doted on~

#ask #💌#💌 skz #im so glad u like it here also!! welcome to ur switch arc 😼#joking hehe

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pacentia · 6 months

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Hi! Are you still in the mood for smut fics? If you possible can write, I would love to read Astarion oral receiving

Title: Restrictions

Tags: mdni, nsfw, F domme/m sub, bondage, aftercare, cuddles, L-bombs, gentle femdom, blowjobs, teasing, vaginal sex

Pairing: established relationship female!reader x nonascended!Astarion

Note: thank you for the request ❤️ i did my own take and felt like writing a submissive non-ascended Astarion. didn't proofread too much. Requests are open!

He's beautiful underneath you, lost in pleasure. Tousled curls, bare fangs, flush ears, cock deep inside you while his hands are carefully tied to the bedpost in soft, burgundy silk. He could break free anytime he wanted, but he entrusted you with power over him - and you were honored that he allowed you power over his body and soul.

Astarion was exceptionally vocal, needy moans as he was on the verge of tears. Your warm, tight cunt was overstimulating him - you hadn't given him permission to come just yet. Muscles and sinews were visibly flexing underneath the skin of his stomach and his strong arms. Your hands were pressed on his broad, pale chest, your cunt slowly sinking up and down on him.

"D-Darling, I - c-can't - hold on much longer…" He whined in desperation, beads of sweat pooling at his brow. You giggled at his pleas, and tightened your cunt around him - making him gasp and moan out your name.

"Does that feel nice, my sweet vampling?" You purred, and he nodded desperately. That term of endearment always made him feel so fuzzy inside. Happy tears pooled on his pale cheeks, which you gently wiped away. Your lips softly pressed against his pointy ear, teasing him with sweet nuzzles, licks and kisses. Goosebumps formed all over his pale skin, his big cock pulsing inside of you.

"Ooh-h… Fuck - darling! It… tickles…" Beautiful chuckles escaped his throat. Your lips curled into a smile and for one last time, you dragged your tight cunt over him - until his length slid out of you against his taut stomach. Your body relaxed beside him and your hands exploring and roaming his flush chest.

His vermillion eyes screamed frustration, as if the heavens had just disappeared. Astarion whined, begged for your heat again, "Please, my love…" The vampire pouted, nuzzling into your neck.

"Patience, my sweet." You sing-songed while your hand only slid more southwards, until you encircled his wet, stiff cock in your palm. Astarion groaned deeply, his hips bucking into your grasp - his fingers gripping the red silk for dear life.

Your tongue invaded his eager mouth as you went to work on his flush member. Pre oozed from his tip, your thumb swirling it over his sensitive head. The vampire was putty in your hold, moaning into your mouth as his eyes rolled in the back of his head. All of his smart talk disappeared, his brain just mush from pleasure.

But again, you stopped your sweet torture and watched him closely.

"Darling," Astarion shivered, "Please…" Big red eyes begging for more, for release. He pushed his forehead against yours, whining into your skin. Seeing your vampiric man in agony from pleasure was soaking you - but it was all about his sweet torture tonight.

"Do you want to cum, Astarion?" You whispered against his lips.

"Please, God's, I beg of you darling." He hissed, completely lost in pleasure. You kissed him once more, until you repositioned yourself and straddled his muscled thighs. You shifted on all fours, your palms gripping his cock again, and guided him inside your mouth.

Astarion hissed from pleasure, baring his sharp fangs involuntarily. He wanted to break free, guide your head on his cock - but no, he was going to be your good little vampling and earn his orgasm. And your care afterwards… It made him feel so safe, loved, treasured.

You started bobbing your head up and down his large member - the last few inches you needed to deepthroat. Astarion growled and whined, toes curled from your skills, cursing under his breath how wonderful you were at this. You chuckled on him, and dragged your tongue against the underside of his shaft as you sucked him. The bulging veins in his member were pulsing against your expert tongue, salty pre oozing at the back of your throat.

"Mistress, can I p-please cum - I can't h-hold on- please-" Astarion looked down at you with wet eyes, about to explode in your mouth. He couldn't hold back any longer.

Mistress. So, he truly enjoyed giving away power. This was the first time he had called you Mistress.

You let go of him with a loud pop, lips connected to his tip while you jerked him off swiftly. "Yes, Astarion. Cum for me. Cum for me, sweetling."

He didn't need to hear that twice, and with a loud cry he erupted against the back of your throat, his powerful orgasm spreading through his strong core, losing himself in pleasure. Never before had it felt so good, being a good boy for you had definitely paid off in the end.

You swallowed his thick essence down, giving him one last suck to clean off the mess. He gasped from overstimulation, begging you to stop your ministrations. So you did, and placed your body right beside his, gently untying his hands from the silk.

Coming down from this newfound pleasure made him feel vulnerable, and he wasn't sure on how to behave or react. He'd been a slave for so long - he had been restricted in truly torturous ways. But the way you had treated him with such care and pleasure, made him feel an explosion of emotions.

His vermillion eyes screamed for an embrace, for care. You reached for the soft duvet, carefully covered his exposed body, and took your vampire in your arms. His face was buried in your neck, your pulse and the smell of you grounding him. Your digits gently stroked through his silver curls, pressing a dear kiss to his hair.

"Are you alright, my sweet?" You whispered softly, looking down at him - wanting nothing more for him to feel safe and loved.

Astarion only nodded against your neck, his arms clung around your body, never wanting to let you go. Your vampire closed his eyes, so thankful that after 200 years of pure shit, he was allowed to experience such deep devotion and pure love.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #astarion fanfiction

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kwanisms · 1 year

Text

Kinkuary 15 Vernon — cockwarming // morning sex

➥ idol boyfriend!Vernon × reader

summary: It’s not every morning Vernon gets to sleep in so when he wakes up after dreaming about his girlfriend, he decides to wake her up and put his dream to reality.

wc: 1.5k

warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, established relationship, sexual content (minors dni!): fingering, cockwarming, unprotected sex (pls use protection!!), morning sex, dirty talk, use of pet names (babe, baby, etc), mention of wet dreams, Vernon is hella pussywhipped in this, mention of some shower sex afterwards, and I think that's it. Let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: for once, I'm not writing Vernon as the best friend or roommate. Full on boyfriend mode activated. I hope you enjoy this piece of Kinkuary and please look forward to the next part! Thank you for reading as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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Join the taglist!

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“Stop moving,” Vernon hissed, his hand on your waist tightening as you shifted.

“I can’t help it!” You whined in response. “It just feels so good.”

It was rare for Vernon to have a day off and even more rare for him to get to sleep in so when woke up from a pretty realistic dream, involving you, he knew he wasn't going to get to sleep in after all.

He'd rolled over to find you fast asleep and sighed. He knew he shouldn't disturb you. It wasn't fair to you that you were still asleep while he was awake but nevertheless, he pulled you into him, smiling into your hair when you murmured sleepily.

It started innocent enough, well… as innocent as he could be with his dream in the forefront of his mind. Light touches, his fingers caressing your back as you slowly woke up, soft kisses to your forehead and cheek. The goal was to wake you up, but gently.

Fleeting touches turned into his hands wandering, sneaking down to pull your thigh onto his hip, his free hand tangling in your hair as his lips moved across your cheek to find your lips.

A few moments later, he was whispering in your ear all the dirty things he'd dreamt about while his hands got rid of your pajama bottoms and underwear.

You weren't a stranger to morning sex with your boyfriend. It had just been a while since you'd had the chance to wake up together with his busy schedule lately.

Once your bottoms were gone and nothing to stop him. A soft sigh escaped you as his fingers trailed down to tease your entrance, finding your clit with his thumb and starting to rub slow circles.

Everything he did was relaxed, almost lazy but there was a reason for it. He liked the build up. He preferred to see you squirm and turn into a mess as he built up the tension in your body as slow as possible. He knew that when the time for quick movements came, he'd had the stamina to see it through.

You whined as you felt his lips kiss down your body over your shirt, his free hand pushing the material up to expose your chest to him. Wordlessly, his tongue swirled around one of your nipples before drawing the bud into his mouth.

You let out a content hum, hand moving to the back of his neck as he continued to tease both your chest and your now soaked center.

Your legs spread further as you felt one of his fingers push into you slowly. "Vernon," you breathed as he added a second finger, curling them into you and making your back arch.

"Does it feel good?" he asked softly, Watchung your face as he continued to glide his fingers effortlessly against your walls, taking in the sight of your parted lips and pert nipples.

"You like it when I touch you like this?"

You nodded vigorously, licking your lips before gasping out a yes.

"You like it when I wake you up to fuck you?" he asked, enjoying the rapid rise and fall of your chest as his fingers pumped in and out of your wet cunt, the lewd sounds filling the room.

"Yes," you whimpered. "God, please just fuck me already."

Vernon smirked as he pulled his fingers out of you, pressing a couple kisses to your neck and cheek before drawing level with your ear as he freed himself from his sweats, giving his cock a few languid strokes before lining himself up with your entrance.

"My name's Vernon but if you wanna call me God, I guess that's fine," he said in an amused tone, not giving you a chance to respond as he sank his hard cock into your warm cunt but made no effort to move, simply basking in the feeling of you.

You loved the way his cock stretched and filled you every time. It was such a pleasant feeling and it was never painful with him as he always made sure you were well prepared to take him.

Of course, it wasn't long until you wanted more and started shifting, trying to get some much needed friction.

It wasn't like you hated cockwarming. On the contrary, you enjoyed the feeling of having Vernon inside you. But you also really liked it when he fucked you.

"Babe, I'm trying to sleep." 'Liar.'

You pulled your head back to look up at him, scoffing when he pretended to be sleeping. "You woke me up for this," you whined. "You're the one who was all handsy and needy and wanted to, what was it?" you said, thinking back to the dirty thoughts he shared.

"Sink yourself into my tight little hole? Isn't that what you said?"

Vernon groaned, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you recalled the words his desperate and horny brain had thought up.

"You weren't supposed to remember that!" he mumbled. "Well, too bad," you retorted. "Now are you gonna fuck me like the good girl I am or am I gonna have to do all the work?"

Vernon clicked his tongue in feigned annoyance, rolling you onto your back as he settled between your thighs, buried deep inside your pussy. "I hate how right you are sometimes," he murmured, slowly starting to move his hips.

"And I hate not being able to sleep in on my day off, but here we are," you fired back, noticing the way your boyfriend smirked as he set a slow but steady pace, focusing on getting the right angle.

He knew he could get you off much faster if he angled his thrusts just right. He didn't need speed, knowing you preferred it slow, deep. "We'll, I suppose I should make quick work of this so you can get back to sleep," he teased, his hips moving slightly faster.

You scoffed, moving to brush his hair out of his eyes.

"Honey, I don't think you know what the word fast means."

You suddenly regretted your words as you felt each hard thrust your boyfriend gave you. He made sure to keep time between them, pulling out slowly only to slam back into you. The force had you crying out with each stroke as your orgasm built up slowly.

It was like he was trying to tease you but also couldn't hold back from wanting to feel something himself. "You're so mean," you whimpered when he stopped, keeping himself buried balls deep.

Another moan sounded from you as he slowly rolled his hips, moving them in a circle and dragging against the deepest parts of your walls. "You know that's not true," Vernon replied, kissing your cheek before pressing his lips against yours. "I'm not mean."

You opened your mouth to respond, to explain how he was being mean by teasing you but could only let out a small yelp as he resumed his deep, hard thrusts. "See? I'm not mean," he teased.

You couldn't find it in you to respond, your mind clouded with pleasure and rendering you incapable of speech.

"Aww, poor baby can't talk?" he asked breathlessly. "Does my cock feel that good?" A moan slipped past your lips, the smirk on Vernon's face spreading. "Feels too good, huh? I know. You feel so good, too."

You let out a choked groan, your cunt clenching around your boyfriend's cock. "Are you gonna cum?" he asked. "Cum on my cock like the dirty little slut you are for me?"

That did it. His words paired with the way his hips moved drove you over the edge, toppling down it like the side of a cliff as you came with a moan of Vernon's name. He fucked you through your orgasm, only letting go once you'd come down a little.

His head dropped into your neck as his hips still, his release coating your walls as he groaned into your skin. Neither of you wanted to move yet you knew you needed to. Your skin was sticky with sweat, your inner thighs and his hips covered in your slick, and his cum slowly spilling out of your used hole.

"Fuck," Vernon cursed, finally breaking the silence as he lifted his head. "You good, babe?" He asked breathlessly, merely chuckling when you nodded. "Yeah. 'M good," you muttered sleepily.

"Hey, no falling asleep," he said, lightly tapping your cheek. "We need to shower. We're gross," he added, pulling out of you and getting up. You groaned tiredly, rolling onto your side. "Speak for yourself," you mumbled. "You literally have my cum rolling down your thighs and ass, babe. You're just as gross as me right now."

You hissed as he turned on the overhead light and pulled back the tangled sheets. "Shower," he ordered. "Now."

You glanced up at him. "How do you have this much energy after that?" you asked, in awe of his ability to bounce back so quickly.

Vernon rolled his eyes before grabbing your ankle and tugging gently. "If you get into the shower with me, we can continue where we left off and get clean at the same time," he reminded you.

You sat up, throwing yourself out of bed.

"You had me at shower sex."

#svthub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #vernon scenarios #vernon imagines #vernon smut #vernon x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

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ghostlychief · 1 year

Text

Weighted Blanket

This is part 2 to Pockets of Peace

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Wc: 3.8k+ (First half is in Simon’s POV, second is reader’s POV)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of children being victims on a mission (nothing graphic), brief, BRIEF mentions of self harm (this part is italicized if you want to skip OR can read it as wounds from fights or missions; emotionally vulnerable reader and Simon; some fluff; some cuddling

Summary: After your last mission, things changed between you and Ghost. Although feelings shifted and emerged, your quiet routine with the Lieutenant stayed the same. He never failed to provide you with little pockets of peace throughout your tumultuous life, and you treasure these moments, holding them close to your heart. Except this time, it’s you who returns the favor, and offers him a warm embrace to grieve quietly.

A/N: HELLO! Part two to Pockets of Peace is finally here. I really can’t express my gratitude for all the love that fic received. I really appreciate all your likes, comments, and reblogs. Comments are always so fun to read and same goes for the reblog tags <3 This is another purely indulgent fic lmao and I found this part harder to write than the first, so I hope you enjoy it just as much. As mentioned, the first half is written from Simon’s POV, so that was fun to explore and write. Sorry for any typos/grammar mistakes </3

ENJOY!

Simon didn’t have much to be grateful for in his life. Sure, he was thankful for the camaraderie he found within task 141, and his friendship with Soap (although he will never admit that they’re true friends). Outside of those two things, there wasn’t much, and he was okay with that. Comes with the line of work, he supposed.

It’s hard to trust people when majority end up pointing their gun at you, even after years of working together, training together, living together. Hell, it took him years to feel somewhat comfortable around the task 141 members. When he first joined, he barely talked to anyone except when necessary either when preparing for a mission, or during a mission. Afterwards he would float off to his room and be alone. He ate alone, trained alone (unless sparing was required by Price), he went out alone. Not that he went out a lot, but if he had to leave the base, it was alone. He was somewhat of a recluse, a phantom hiding in the shadows that the team rarely ever saw.

The team member he first grew closest to, not without them trying, was Soap. The outgoing sergeant was able to make a friend out of the standoffish lieutenant, and even got Ghost to crack jokes during missions, a big deal for task force 141. This happened a little over a year and a half after Ghost joined the team. And now fast forward almost seven years later, and here he was, still on task force 141, but with a friend of sorts. That was one thing he was grateful for.

About two years in, he started to eat breakfast when the other team members did. Did he sit with them? No, of course not, but he was eating at the same time, just a few tables away. He started training with the other members more regularly, and on occasion, would coach them and give them tips here and there. And after a mission, he would sometimes tag along with the other men when they went out to a bar to wind down.

One night, shortly after you joined task 141, Ghost begrudgingly accepted Soap’s invite to go to a bar with the other male team members. Once they got there and had a few drinks, they were poking fun at him for having a “soft spot” for the new recruit.

He just rolled his eyes at their comments, and muttered “Fuck off,” up until they started talking about your skillset. Specifically, your lack of skills in sparing.

“Well, she certainly could improve her technique. We were sparing the other day, and I almost squashed her like a bug.”

“Yeah, she’s fast, but sure doesn’t know what to do with her speed and size. I pinned her down almost every time.”

“Yeah, last week, I had her in a headlock and almost made her pass out.”

“Hey Ghost, haven’t you been training with her? I’m sure you crush her each time you spar; she doesn’t have a chance against you.”

“Doubt she’s improved at all, even with Ghost’s help.”

Ghost couldn’t help but notice the frequent use of the word ‘almost,’ and at this point, he had enough. The comments the 141 members made weren’t even accurate. Sure, you had some improving to do, but by no means were you bad. He felt like they just felt threatened by you, a young woman with much more potential than them. He also had a feeling that they were jealous of your mastery at sniping. To put it simply, Ghost knew they were full of shit.

“She’s actually improved quite a lot.” His rough voice pierces through the air, silencing the banter surrounding him.

Embers burned at the pit of his stomach at the thoughtless comments his teammates said so flippantly about you. Embers that soon caught fire, and burned bright crimson flames. He stayed composed, but his eyes flickered, darkened by the shadows of the black paint surrounding them, and the tarnished skull that covered his nose and mouth. All the more imposing to those who looked at him.

“Plus, someone had to give her pointers for fighting a highly skilled, large, and imposing person; something you short fucks couldn’t do.”

Ghost was met with silence once again, and he smirked under his balaclava. Since then, the other men of task 141 have not commented on your sparing abilities, not wanting to be cursed out by Ghost.

And hey, it was all worth it when the next day you defeated Soap, match after match.

New recruits of 141 typically come and go, retention isn’t all that great. So, when you joined the team, he wasn’t expecting you to persevere, and stay. He was impressed by your skillset; snipers are always impressive in his mind. But your agility and speed that allowed you to take down opponents twice your size, is what mainly caught his eye. Sure, you needed some improvement, but you were promising.

When you first joined the team, you were so nice to everyone, even him. That’s not something he’s privy to in his line of work. Yet, you didn’t seem intimidated by him at all, not in the slightest. He didn’t have the slightest clue as to why. You just kept being so warm to him and he didn’t know what to do with that.

Of course, he wasn’t nervous to be around you, no that certainty wasn’t it; but he couldn’t help the warm feeling that would spread through his chest whenever you would talk to him. At first you only conversed with one another in meetings, debriefs, missions, etc. All work related, with no cross over into ‘personal life territory’. Simon was content with this, he rarely ever crossed that boundary with the other 141 teammates, so why would he with you? Incidentally, you and him started to get paired together mission after mission, and he couldn’t help but want more.

Ghost was immediately impressed at your abilities to smoothly get in and get out during missions, especially with what little experience you had. Not that you were any less competent than any of the other 141 team members, you just hadn’t been in the field for as long as some of them. You were smart as a whip though, and you got the job done quickly and quietly, and never got in his way. That was something he deeply respected about you. You understood the task at hand, asked questions if needed, but otherwise were highly independent. An admirable trait that takes some weight off of his shoulders as a Lieutenant. Something that he quickly added to his list of things he was grateful for.

You also had the curiosity to learn more, and to learn from the more experienced team members. Always ready with a question, and never embarrassed to ask. Sure, you were quiet like him, but when it came to job stuff, you didn’t hesitate to make your presence known.

He still remembers, one night after completing a mission, you and him were sitting in the helicopter. You turned to him and asked, “How is it that you’re never scared?” Your sweet voice traveled over to him through the coms and he felt confounded by your question. He felt his stomach warm at your tone in which you asked him this. Did you somehow look up to him?

“Who said I was never scared?” He glanced over at you and saw your eyes sparkle at his response.

To say that Ghost was concerned after you got shot in the leg was an understatement. Although he tried his best to stay composed, he was having a full-blown crisis inside his mind while trying to get you to safety, which, was a safe house miles from your current location. He couldn’t properly examine your wound, so he had no idea how bad of a state you were in, and he hated blind spots.

That was the first mission he ever felt real fear for you; distressed with thoughts that said you wouldn’t make it back. Thoughts that kept bouncing around, tormenting him the whole journey to the safe house. Luckily when you guys arrived, he was able to fully assess your wound and it didn’t look life threatening. No, all he had to do was clean, stich, and bandage it.

Simple enough, right? Wrong.

Of course, of course the best way to get the wound clean and ready for stitching was for your fucking pants to come off.

Things were never easy for Ghost.

His nerves didn’t stop him though and he somehow managed to get through everything without making a complete fool out of himself. Though, if you could somehow hear his heartbeat, at all, it would have been a dead giveaway, as it thumped erratically in his chest. There were moments when he was afraid it would burst.

Then, only to make this mission even worse, was him waking up to your blood curdling screams in the middle of the night. His first thought was that the enemy found you guys, and they got to you first. He thought that he failed to protect you, which was a silent promise he made to himself after the first night you guys drank beer in his room.

However, when he entered the living room, he saw that no one was in the room, it was just you on the couch where he left you. Your screams turned into cries, then sobs, then screams again. It was deafening and he couldn’t stand to hear it any longer. It took a few good shakes to wake you and he felt his heartstrings pinch in his chest when you apologized to him for waking him up, completely disregarding the trauma you were currently experiencing.

He decided right then and there that what you needed right now was not a work colleague, but a friend. He carried you to bed that night, hoping to provide you with some consolation, wanting to provide you with anything that would make you feel safe again. And before he even knew what he was doing, he found himself closing the distance between your lips, and he felt you kissing back. He may have added that to the list of things he felt grateful for.

It’s been a few weeks since then. Your leg is pretty much all healed, and you have full mobility. All thanks to Ghost’s handy work. Although you felt fine and ready to get back out there, Simon insisted that you continue to rest. He even managed to convince Price not to assign you to any missions for the next month, which thoroughly pissed you off.

Who was he to boss you around and tell you when you were ready or not to start working again? He was technically your direct supervisor, so he did have the power to boss you around, but still!

Even though you were slightly peeved at him, you knew that it came from a good place. He was just worried about you, and this was his way of showing it, well, in front of the team at least.

In private, he had other ways to show you how much he cared for you. After he learned about your nightmares, he insisted that you come to him whenever they occur. You were hesitant at first to take him up on his offer. What if he just said that to be nice and he just feels bad for me? You didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Even though, you found yourself slowly start to cross more and more boundaries with him as the weeks went on.

So, the first night you experienced another nightmare, you found yourself in front of Simon’s door. You probably stood there for at least a minute, racking up the courage to knock. But before you could even do that, the door swung open to reveal a sleepy looking Simon decked out in black sweats and his signature balaclava.

Since he was so close to you, you had to crane your neck to look up at him and meet his eyes. Why he was still wearing his mask at this hour, you were unsure. He usually took it off to sleep, but you were too unmoored to ask.

“I heard your footsteps approach my door.” His gravelly voice fills the space in-between, and he casually leans on the door frame.

“Oh.” You looked down at your slippers and twiddle your thumbs.

“Why don’t you come in, yeah?” Simon’s voice lifts up a bit at the end of his question, and you look back up at him and offer him a small smile.

“I’d like that, thank you Simon.” It still felt weird on your tongue to call the Lieutenant by his first name, but your chest sparked each time you did so. He held out is hand and you fit your palm against his, and he leads you into his room, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

You and Simon talked for what felt like hours before you fell asleep, head on his shoulder and his hand rubbing your head.

It was a common occurrence after that, to visit Simon’s room at night whenever you woke up screaming in the dark of your own room. It felt like nothing could happen to you in your dreams, so as long as Simon’s arms were wrapped around you, almost like an anchor. Weighing you down, preventing you from drifting too far away.

But even with this new sense of security surrounding you, some nights when you fell asleep with Simon next to you, the nightmares would still creep into your mind. Though, Simon was right there to help bring you back.

If for some reason you both separated during the night and were sleeping apart, you’d reach out to him after waking, your hand patting the bed, searching for him.

“Simon?”

“I’m right here.” He’d then swiftly pull you back into him.

He’d rub your back. Up down, up down.

Wrap his arms around you. Squeeze.

Kiss your forehead. Smooth back your hair.

Whisper affirming words that reminded you that it’s all in your head, you’re safe in this reality, he’s here. No one is trying to harm you.

Other nights, you found yourselves simply enjoying each other’s company. You love to outline his forearm tattoos with your fingers and trace your hand up his arm to his broad shoulders, to his chest. You like to trail your hand across his abs and just love to explore his whole body with your hands.

He does the same, and his touch always feels so heavenly. Though his hands were calloused and rough, they were always extra gentle in handling you.

His hand brushes over the top of your thigh and his fingertips graze over the slightly raised bumps that span across your tender skin. Your once smooth legs, now marked permanently with light lines. You feel his hand pause after it initially goes over this area of your leg. And you know, that he knows.

Before you can say anything, and push him away, his warm hand comes back up to rest at the top of your thigh, and his thumb gently traces circles over the scarred area. He doesn’t say a word, but his touches mean everything to you, and it’s all you need.

You feel him squeeze his arms that are already wrapped around your form, and feel a slight pressure against the top of your head, like a kiss was laid upon your hair.

You feel your breathing start to slow, and before you know it, you’re drifting off to sleep, the steady rhythm of Simon’s heart calling out to you like a siren with a lullaby.

You started to feel a deep sense of familiarity within the four walls of Simon’s room, and you knew that it would always be a place of condolement for your aching self. Little did you know, that you provided just as much relief, if not more, to Simon as well. Although more rare than yours, Simon had bad days too.

Tonight was no different than any other; you and Simon are lying in bed together and you’re semi-on top of him, leg thrown over his waist, head on his shoulder, fingers mapping out his entire being.

“If you want to talk about it, you know that you can, right?” You absentmindedly trace your pointer finger across the span of his chest as you ask him this. Drawing small circles into the fabric of his black t-shirt.

To Simon, it felt like there were small sparks leaving your fingertips every time you touched him, causing his heart to ignite.

“I’m always here to listen.” You remind him one more time.

Simon just came back from a particularly brutal mission, one that he has told you very little about. They were gone for almost two weeks and all you were able to find out from Soap was that children were involved- a sensitive subject for Simon. You can only imagine what he went through during the mission, and now, what he’s dealing with in the aftermath. You’re trying not to push too much, but you want him to talk to you.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know that. But you shouldn’t have to.”

You pause your ministrations and crane your neck to look up at him with a slight pout on your lips. This was always a struggle with him, he didn’t like to talk to you, let alone anyone when he was going through something. He would just put up a wall and it broke your heart. Sometimes you would get bits and pieces, but never the whole picture; it was always fuzzy to you.

You wanted him to feel safe enough that he could confide in you, vent to you, about whatever was on his mind, but you knew it wasn’t that easy and that these things take time. You’re patient with him, as he is with you. It’s the least you can owe him for all he’s done for you. This is his time to lament, not yours to be nosey. So, you just let him be.

He lets out a sigh and then moves you so you’re laying completely on top of him. He tries not to be too rough as his hands grab onto your waist to situate you further, and he tucks your head under his chin.

One arm wraps around your middle and the other comes up to hold the back of your head.

“I just want you to be here with me right now, like this. That’s all I need.” His breath tickles your hair and you succumb to his wish, relaxing against him.

“Ok, I can do that.” Your hands come up to wrap around his neck, and you pull him impossibly closer to you, no inch of yourself is left untouched by Simon.

He likes to put you in this position whenever he can’t find the right words to explain. He instead craves the comfort of physicality, liking the weight of you on top of him.

Your hand comes up to play with his hair at the nape of his neck. You found that his hair tends to curl a little at the end, initially not expecting his hair to be this long. Silly, you know, but you’re honored that you’re one of the few people that get to see him like this.

You don’t know how long you and Simon lay like this; time always seemed to bend and disappear when you were with him. Since you guys had been lying in silence for so long, his voice startles you when he speaks for the first time in what felt like hours.

His hand that was resting on your lower back is now softly stroking your spine in a steady up and down motion.

“I felt scared for the first time in a while, on the last mission.”

His admission surprises you, but you wait a beat to see if he’s going to say anything else before you respond.

You’re glad that you do, because he continues to speak in a hushed voice.

“I- I didn’t know how to help them and they were looking towards us to be saved. And yet, we couldn’t save all of them. Some were left behind.”

You feel your heart start to crack again, the beginnings of the break started forming the moment you saw Simon step out of the plane when he returned back to the base.

And now it feels as though a chisel is working its way through your chest, chipping off piece by piece as you listen to Simon morn the loss of little lives. Lives he couldn’t rescue. You know it’s eating him up on the inside, with no respite in sight.

You personally have never been on a mission where the victims were children, and you’re thankful for that, so you can only empathize as much as your experience allows you to. You just have to remind him that he does the best he can, and not everyone can be saved, no matter how much you want to help.

You shift a little so your head is no longer tucked under his chin, and instead rests more on his shoulder. Since you’re so close to him, your lips touch is jaw.

You sigh, “I’m really sorry you went through that, Simon. I know that nothing I can say will change the outcome of what happened, and it doesn’t really matter what I say, but I do want you to know that you and the team did all you could. You did your best with what circumstances you were given.”

You feel him stir under you, and his arms warp tighter around your frame.

“You’re wrong.”

You feel you the pieces of your heart break into smaller and smaller pieces, losing hope that they will ever fit back together.

“You’re wrong to think that your words don’t matter.” Oh. “They actually mean the most to me.” Your chest doesn’t feel like it’s going to concave anymore.

“I really appreciate you; you know that right, Little Swan?” You feel him kiss your forehead and your chest warms at his term of endearment.

“Of course I do, Simon.”

“Ok, good.”

You bring him in for a kiss.

Simon found that he didn’t have much in his life, let alone much to be grateful for. Yet over the years, he realized that he grew quite the list.

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marblemoovt · 1 year

Text

Bake A Wish - John Price/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Fluff with a smidge of angst

Summary:

You bump into a man and his daughter at the grocery store. The kid is really insistent you join them for dinner.

------

She’s been on a tangent about her father, who you assume she’s hiding from, for ten minutes now. From what you’re able to gather, he works in the military.

Unwilling to dampen her excitement, you crouch down and listen to every word. “Is that so, little one?” you say, propping your chin up with your hand.

She nods, brown strands flying everywhere. “Mhmm. And he’s super handsome, too! A lady called him a dill, but Daddy’s not a pickle! She was so silly.” Your eyes widen, and you slap a hand over your mouth to barricade the gurgle in your throat. A fucking DILL.

Note:

This has been sitting in my wips for over a month but it's finally done!! I apologize if the quality feels sporadic throughout the fic. Writing consistently is just something I can't seem to do and my motivation/inspiration has been in a slump lately. The amount of fluff fics I've written that involve baking is ridiculous, I didn't realize that's the activity I default to lol.

I've never written for John before, so I'm still trying to get a feel for his character.

Anyways, thank you @yeyinde for introducing John Price to me. I was debating on not tagging you but I can't be a coward forever.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

John holds the hand of his six-year-old daughter, Rose. The little munchkin is a ball of energy, and he fears the consequences if he were to let her run wild. “Don’t let go of my hand, ok Rosy?” Rose grins with more mischief than a little child should have. She attempts to run away, and John scoops her in his arms.

“I’m too big to be carried, Daddy!” she squeals, arms flinging around his neck to stabilize herself. The scent of her strawberry shampoo tickles his nose.

“You have to promise me you’re not going to do that again,” he says. Rose holds out her pinky, and he accepts her promise. Her finger looks tiny and frail compared to his. He sets her down and ruffles her hair despite her whinging. “Do you remember what we came here to buy?” he asks.

She claps her hands with glee and exclaims, “Cookies for Santa!!! Because Daddy can’t bake, so we have to buy cookies from the store!” John smiles, but he can’t help but feel the sting of her bluntness. Kids are way too honest.

“What kind of cookies do you want to get?” he asks.

“Not chocolate chip. Everyone uses chocolate chip.” She strokes her chin, imitating the gesture she’s seen her father do whenever he has to think hard about something. “Candy cane cookies!” She ponders over it for another minute before nodding her head. “I bet Santa’s never gotten candy cane cookies before.”

“I don’t think they sell those, rosebud,” he says, and she frowns.

“I guess they’re too special to sell in a store,” she laments, her enthusiasm wilting a little.

John crouches down to Rose’s eye level. “Why don’t we look at all the cookies they have and pick one afterwards?” he suggests.

“Ok,” she sighs, holding her hand out for him to grab. Large, calloused fingers swallow her hand whole, and John wonders how much longer it will stay like this. Her brown locks are a few inches longer than last time, but the beaming smile on her face when she sees him remains constant. He blinks the heat away from his eyes and leads Rose to the snack aisle.

There’s an entire shelf dedicated to cookies, some of them themed for the holidays. But the snowflake shortbread cookies further deflate Rose. She droops when they come across sugar cookies in the shape of Christmas trees. John silently curses the corporate companies for manufacturing every winter holiday cookie except for a candy cane. He squeezes her hand, and his heart aches when he catches Rose biting her lip. Tears are on the verge of spilling, but she will not cry. He actually can’t remember the last time he’s seen her cry. The thought bothers him more than he wants.

John spots a box of rainbow cookies on the top shelf. He releases her hand to grab them, “What about these?” When he turns around, Rose is gone. The box tumbles to the ground. “Rose?” His eyes sweep the shelves. Rows of cookies and other snacks, but no sign of her. “Rosy?!” He begins jogging through the store, checking every aisle before moving on to the next. Icy claws grip his chest, and all of his senses are on high alert. He fidgets with the dog tags around his neck and has to remind himself that he’s not on duty.

Sharp laughter slices through the pounding in his eardrums; a high-pitched fit dissolves into familiar giggles. Rose. He flexes his clenched fists to relieve the stinging in his palms. He pinpoints the sound to the baking section and sprints like a madman. Sliding to a stop, he spots her at the other end of the aisle. His body sags against a shelf, and the air enters his lungs with ease once more.

“My Daddy’s amazing! He can shoot bad guys from reeeeally far away,” Rose brags to a stranger crouched in front of her. That stranger is you.

A faint giggle grabbed your attention. Twinkling lights accompanied by the pounding of tiled flooring. A little girl beelined straight toward you, veering to the side to hide behind a display of chocolate bars. She covered her shoes with her hands to dull the blinking, peering around for someone. She spotted you holding a bag of flour and asked if you bake. Her eyes lit up when you confirmed that you do.

She’s been on a tangent about her father, who you assume she’s hiding from, for ten minutes now. From what you’re able to gather, he works in the military.

Unwilling to dampen her excitement, you crouch down and listen to every word. “Is that so, little one?” you say, propping your chin up with your hand.

She nods, brown strands flying everywhere. “Mhmm. And he’s super handsome, too! A lady called him a dill, but Daddy’s not a pickle! She was so silly.”

Your eyes widen, and you slap a hand over your mouth to barricade the gurgle in your throat. A fucking DILL. You don’t have the heart to correct her. Correction: You’re too busy trying not to collapse on the floor in a fit of laughter. The misunderstanding is best left alone, but your curiosity is piqued. What does this man look like?

“Rose!” A voice booms from the other end of the aisle, and the child hides behind you. You stand up and shield her with your body, eying the stranger with a frown. Brown hair with silver streaks, and his eyes—fuck, you wish the sky would be that blue instead of grey. He approaches you two, and when Rose makes no further movements, you stick your arm out to block him.

“Who are you?” you ask. He must be at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders, and built like he could beat you into a bloody pulp if he wanted.

He mirrors your frown, eyes flickering to the brown hair peeking behind your figure. “I should be asking you that. Who are you, and what are you doing with my daughter?”

You narrow your eyes. “How do I know you’re not some pervert who kidnaps children?”

He chuckles; the low rumble sends the butterflies rampaging against your stomach walls. “Sweetheart, I could say the same about you,” and he crosses his arms—his thick and muscular arms. The way his biceps bulge underneath his sweater…. You bite your lip. The metallic tang in your mouth grounds you. You swipe a tongue across the fresh wound, and the sting helps you regain a few brain cells.

Turning to Rose, you ask, “Is this your dad?” and squeeze her hands. “You can tell me if it isn’t, and we’ll find a nice employee to help you.” You talk slowly, enunciating each word with care. Rose glances at the man behind you before settling on your face.

She cups her hands around her mouth, and you lean in, her warm breath tickling your ear. “Yeah, that’s my dad. What do you think? Super handsome, right?” she whispers. You glance at him and huff. A fucking dill, indeed.

“Rosy, stop bothering the nice stranger,” her father says, gesturing for her to come to him. She skips over and fails to dodge his hand. Rose groans and buries her face into her father’s stomach as he ruffles her hair. You avert your eyes and ignore the heat that prickles the back of your neck. Wringing your hands, you stare at the floor as their laughter echoes in the aisle. You hardly know these people. Plus his wife must be somewhere in the store, ready to pop out at any second.

“The ‘stranger’ has a name,” you speak up, introducing yourself. You keep your eyes trained on the shelf of sprinkles above his right shoulder as if the plastic bottles of sugar will stop you from falling.

He holds out a hand for you to shake. “John, John Price.” Firm warmth envelopes your skin and dissipates far too quickly for your liking. Sparks of electricity fizzle before they get a chance to light your nerves on fire—and you want to burn.

“Heh, P as in Pickle,” you snicker, making the mistake of meeting his gaze. Your arm drops to your side, and your bones turn to lead. The sky must be grey because all the blue was stolen and contained in his eyes. There’s no coldness, no ice, only calm ripples of water. The gentle drag of the ocean as the waves lap against the shore, inviting you into its depths.

John raises a brow. “An odd observation, but yes.” He smooths Rose’s hair to no avail. Baby hairs and cowlicks in all different directions are a continuous reminder that he’s been meaning to learn how to style hair.

Rose beams at him with her toothy grin. “Cause Daddy’s a dill!” she adds.

John’s confused expression quickly morphs into one of horror. “Where did you hear that?!” He narrows his eyes at you.

You throw your hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me. This is the first time we’ve met.”

Rose tugs on his shirt and says, “That lady who used to babysit me. She also called you a fox, but I told her you’re a man.” Your eyes widen, and your shoulders tremble. John runs a hand through his graying hair, and you rip your gaze away because witnessing that felt illegal. Every time you look at him you notice another thing that attracts you.

John sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about her. I love Rose, but she can be a handful at times,” he says, whispering the second half. His head tilts forward, and now all you can focus on is how his moustache frames his mouth. Plump and pink.

Your lips crook upwards in a slant. “It’s not a problem. She’s an entertaining conversationalist.” You find yourself drawing nearer to his face, wandering from the shore and deeper into the ocean—oblivious to the current that will pull you under.

Rose tugs on your shirt and asks, “Why don’t you join us for dinner?” You pull away with a sharp inhale, processing how John’s eyes flicker to your lips. The little girl gazes at you with a hopeful smile, but you look to her father for confirmation.

“Rose, you can’t invite people you barely know to your home,” he reprimands, and her smile flatlines. It’s probably for the best. At the current pace, it’s like you’re in a sappy romance novel! John shoots you an apologetic smile, but you wave your hand and shake your head in understanding.

Rose pouts and stares at her shoes. She shuffles her feet, and the lights twinkle with each tap. “But then there’ll be someone who can bake cookies,” she says, looking up at him with puppy eyes. John winces.

You notice him wracking his brain for a response and decide to help him. “They sell rolls of sugar cookie dough; next to the puff pastry,” and you jerk a thumb behind you. Sometimes you buy a roll or two when you feel particularly lazy but crave cookies.

John mouths a “Thank you” and holds Rose’s hand. “C’mon, rosebud. Let’s buy some, and you can make your candy cane cookies.”

Rose perks up at the mention of cookies, her shoes now fighting to match the brightness of her eyes. “Wow! They sell everything here!” She drags him to the pre-made dough section. Well, she tries to drag him. Rose is less than half her father’s size. It reminds you of those cartoon characters that try to move a comically large boulder. Blue eyes meet your gaze one last time and wink at you.

Did. Did he just?

You stand there, unblinking, staring at the corner they disappeared behind.

Holy fucking shit. He did.

You don’t register going through the checkout and packing your things in the car. With a blink, you’re in front of the steering wheel, key in hand. Where were you...? Home. You were on your way home. Slotting the key in the ignition, you start the engine and begin the drive home. For once, the clouds have gone, and the world mocks you with its clear skies. You don’t think you can stand to look at the colour blue for a while. It’s a good thing you’re sitting right now.

The drive itself is unremarkable. You go through the same streets, pass the same buildings, pull into the same parking lot, and park in your usual spot next to a truck. You admire the muscular arm resting on said truck window. Funny. Guess that sweater is popular around here. Large hands run through brown hair flecked with grey—John.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You creep out of your car and circle around to the apartment building, abandoning your groceries.

Just a few feet. Just a few feet, and you’ll make it to the door. Conscious of your steps, you slink across the pavement and concrete. You wrap your hand around the handle, and the tension bleeds from your shoulders.

“Are you playing hide and seek, too?” a voice from below asks. You jerk and pull the door instead of pushing. A loud rattle echoes in the vicinity. Who decided it was a good idea to make doors out of glass? A sadist who likes to watch people open doors incorrectly, that’s who. You glance down. Long lashes frame blue eyes that stare into your soul. Your fingers itch to adjust the cowlick in the disarray of her hair. You spot a few leaves clinging to her locks. Was she hiding by that bush beside you?

“Are you hiding from your dad?” you ask Rose, scooting behind the potted plant when she beckons you closer.

Rose shrugs and peeks around you. “Daddy was taking too long. I’m waiting to see when he’ll notice I left.”

Your brows pinch together. “That’s not safe, Rose. You should stick close to him. What if something bad happens to you?”

“Don’t worry, I have a lot of uncles, and they taught me how to beat up baddies!” She punches the air a few times. Her face pulls tight in concentration before loosening into a grin. She shrinks behind the bush and brings a finger to her lips.“Now shhh, we have to be quiet.”

Boots thud against the pavement, the strides between each step growing shorter. “Rosy! Where did you run off to this time?” There’s a divet to his tone beneath the loudness, like the warning tremors of an avalanche. “I need to put that girl on a leash.” There’s a smile in his tone, but it stretches taut like a rubber band, ready to snap and whiplash you with his increasing agitation. He runs a hand down his face and sighs, eyes darting across the rows of cars.

You can’t watch this any longer. You move to reveal yourself, but Rose beats you to it. She tiptoes behind her father, giving up halfway and slamming herself into him.

“Boo!” Rose screams, voice muffled by his shirt.

John stares at Rose and shouts half a second later. “Ah!” Half a second too late.

Rose pulls away with a sullen frown. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

John crouches down and pets her hair. “No, no, rosebud. Was so afraid I forgot how to talk,” he insists.

Rose gives him a scrutinizing look. “Liar,” she pouts. John leans in and whispers something into her ear, scratching her smooth cheek with his beard. She giggles and squirms, pushing his face away with both her hands. He deliberately rubs their cheeks together, and it causes her to laugh harder.

Once again, you’re watching the two of them from afar. Heat pricks your skin, and your gaze steers toward the door. You should be able to slip unnoticed if you’re quiet. Standing up, you wince as your joints pop. You might as well hang a giant neon sign to denote your presence.

John’s voice glues your feet to the ground. “Let’s bring everything inside, then you can bake your cookies,” he says. You press your back against the wall and exhale through your nose. No big deal. You just need to wait until they head inside first. Your palms dig into the stony material of the building. As if with enough force, you’ll be able to reorganize your atoms and disappear into the walls to escape dying from embarrassment.

“I have a surprise for you, Daddy!” Rose’s voice draws nearer.

You are a wall. A silent, still, and formidable wall.

“Did you find another pretty stone?” John asks, tone laced with amusement.

You close your eyes, but the ocean will not leave you alone. The waves lap at your feet on the shore, and you shrink away. Stone presses hard into your back.

They won’t find you. They’ll walk past you and go inside. Your erratic heartbeat fragments your thoughts into mismatched puzzle pieces. You can’t think with all this drumming and adrenaline.

“It’s pretty, but it’s not a stone.” Rose runs up to you and tugs you from your hiding spot. “A special guest for dinner!” she presents you like a prized animal. You stumble, and your eyes snap open in fear of hitting the ground. Strong arms rush forward to steady you. You lift your head, and your mouth dries.

Cerulean eyes pull you into their depths, crinkles forming at their edges. John’s accent caresses your ears, and you tamp down the unintelligible noise that threatens to destroy your last shred of dignity. “I didn’t know you lived here too,” and the corners of his lips twitch.

You force your tongue to articulate, the words scraping like sandpaper up your throat. “Neither did I—that you also lived here! Cause I know that I live here because I live here!” A shaky laugh warbles out of you. “I wasn’t following you because that would be creepy—and I’m going to shut up now.” You seal your lips together before you can dig a deeper hole for yourself. His hands are still on you, fingers wrapped around your arms. Your blood sings at the contact.

“Do you think Daddy’s handsome?” Rose blurts out. Flames lick your skin, and your mouth becomes reminiscent of a goldfish.

John’s fingers dig into your arms, and it’s not until you flinch that his hands drop to his sides. “That’s not a polite question, Rose,” he rumbles. It’s low, a warning. But when you’re a kid, you’re not afraid of anything.

Rose places her hands on her hips. “But you were like this in the car on the way home too! And when I asked you what was wrong, you told me I was too young to understand. I’m not stupid, Daddy. I’m six.” She stomps on ‘six.’ And you watch as this little girl brings this burly man to his knees.

John sighs, “Not here, Rose. Please.”

But Rose refuses to yield. “Why not? You both like each other, so why can’t we have dinner together?” she asks.

John rubs the back of his neck, the muscles in his arms flexing. “Would you like to join us tonight?” he asks, eyes flickering between your face and the parking lot behind you.

“I’m afraid Rose will kidnap me if I don’t say yes,” you joke.

Rose grumbles, “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud.” She grabs your hand and tugs you to the entrance. “Daddy can bring the groceries inside. I want to show you my toys!”

You dig your heels into the ground and say, “I need to bring my things inside as well. It’ll only take a few minutes.” Rose’s smile falters, and she reluctantly lets you go.

“Don’t worry, Love. I can take care of that for ya,” John offers

You fidget with the keys in your pocket. “Are you sure?” You’re not worried about him stealing your car. He can’t exactly hide if you two live in the same building. Besides, you want to believe that the kindness in his eyes is genuine.

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” he reaffirms.

“Ok,” and you hand him your car keys. His fingertips graze your palm, and you shiver. God, you’re pathetic. Rose tugs on your arm, and you trail after her. She leads you up a few flights of stairs before stopping on the third floor, where you also live. Except she walks to the opposite end of the hallway, away from your apartment. She pulls a key out of her pocket and unlocks the door.

Rose drops your hand and runs inside, returning with a stuffed animal in her arms. “This is Mr. Bear. Daddy got him for me!” Mr. Bear is wearing tactical gear and a bucket hat. Frayed threads stick out of his body along the seams, and small patches of fur have fallen out. She cradles the stuffed animal close to her chest and rests her chin atop his head.

You nearly melt on the spot. “That’s very sweet of him,” you say.

“Sometimes, when I miss him, I just need to squeeze Mr. Bear tight.” She gives you a demonstration.

A familiar warm timbre greets your ears.“I love you, rosebud.”

You grin and say, “Your dad reminds me of a bear.”

“Yeah! He’s big and cuddly. But his face turned red when I told him,” Rose mumbles the last part. She straightens up and tugs on your arm. “Oh! And these are my action figures!”

You walk into what you assume is her bedroom. It’s not as chaotic as you thought it would be. Her bed is in one corner of the room, with a collection of stuffies sitting along one side. There’s a shelf with knickknacks and picture frames. Your eyes land on a photo of John holding a small bundle in his arms. It looks like the picture was taken without him knowing. His eyes are wide, staring at the tiny hand wrapped around his thumb.

There’s something that’s been bothering you, but you don’t think it’s your place to ask. Rose startles you when she starts barking out, “Hold your fire! We can’t alert the enemy of our whereabouts!” You whip around to see her sitting on the ground with a mini soldier in each hand. The large tub behind her is open, the lid propped neatly against its side. You sit next to her and watch the ‘mission’ play out. She hands you a soldier and assigns you the special position of super spy. Now a successful job rests on your shoulders.

Thanks to Captain Rose, your team retrieves the files, returning without a single casualty. Although you had a close encounter with the enemy’s Captain Pickles, which began some sort of enemies-to-lovers arc. You don’t know. She’s six. She reasoned that the power of love triumphs over all. Rose begins cleaning up, setting the toys neatly in the bin before snapping the lid shut.

“Did you learn all that from your dad?” you ask.

Rose shrugs and picks up Mr. Bear. “Daddy never tells me anything about work. It’s classified. Sometimes I watch TV. There’s a show where one of the characters looks just like him, but Nana doesn’t let me watch much 'cause it’s not for kids.” Dear lord. Could you imagine being sandwiched between two Johns??

“Rosy? Want to bake your cookies now?” John shouts from the corridor, snapping you out of your fantasy.

“Yes, please!” Rose replies. She grabs your hand and gives you a toothy grin. “You can be my assistant. Daddy’s hopeless at baking.” She leads you to the kitchen, where some bowls and a tray are on the table. Rose lets go and skips to a seat, plopping herself down. Mr. Bear is seated on the chair next to her.

You sit at her other side and ask, “What kind of cookies are we making?” There are no cookie cutters in sight to give you a clue.

Rose clasps her hands together. Her feet swing beneath the table. “Candy Canes! Santa will be so impressed that he’ll grant my wish for sure,” she answers.

You don’t know what a six-year-old would ask from Santa, but you sincerely hope it’s fulfilled. Perusing the items on the table, you notice a vital ingredient missing. “Do you have food dye?” you ask.

Rose strokes her chin. She hops off her chair and walks up to John. “Daddy, do we have any food dye?”

John’s head peeks out from behind the fridge door. “Sorry, Rosy. I don’t remember,” and there’s a sheepish grin on his face.

Rose hums and grabs a stool, tottering to the drawers. “I forgot. You went away for a while. I think Nana left some the last time we baked.” Your eyes snap to the fridge when you hear a thud. An apple rolls across the floor and stops near your feet. You pick up the fruit, thumb brushing over the bruise blooming underneath its skin. “I found red!” Rose waves a small bottle in her hand and dashes to show you.

You set the apple on the table and praise Rose. Her chest puffs up, and the smile she gives you is dazzling. She hops onto her seat, clutching the bottle to her chest.

John walks up to you two. “Here’s the dough,” and he holds out the cylindrical tube but changes his mind and leaves it on the table. The only seats left are the ones across. He picks the spot in front of you.

“Thanks.” You snap the tube open and remove the packaging. “Alright, Rose. We split the dough in half, and you’ll colour one part red.”

Rose cocks her head to the side. “We don’t paint the cookies?”

You shake your head and say, “There’s an easier way to make them look like candy canes.” You hand Rose a wooden spoon and tell her to mix the dough while you add the dye. Once half the dough is red, you take equal parts from both bowls and roll them into noodles. Putting them together, you twist them to form a cane. You curve one end, and the result is a near-perfect replica of a candy cane. Rose marvels at the sight, face inches from the table’s surface.

There’s a streak of food colouring on her face, and you grab a tissue for her. She’s engrossed in the cookie, picking it up and turning it over. Out of impulse, you wipe the stain on her cheek and her laughter tinkles throughout the room. She complains about being ticklish between her giggles. A low sigh draws your attention. You look over to John, who’s watching you with his head propped up with his hand. “What? Do I have something on my face?” you ask.

There’s a softness to John’s features. He looks at you like you’re holding his heart in your hands, squeezing the pulsating organ with every cookie you form. “Do good looks count?” It’s barely audible, but you hear it. His elbow slips from the table, and he clears his throat. “Just been a while since I’ve seen her so happy.” He folds his arms across the table, a wall of muscle to create a false sense of distance.

You gesture your head at Rose. “Make a cookie with her; have fun together.”

John stares at the table, stroking his chin in a familiar fashion, but remains silent otherwise. You chew on the inside of your cheek and resume forming the cookies. The squeal of wood scraping against wood pricks your ears. John squeezes himself into the space between you and Rose. His shoulders brush against you, and he is radiating heat. “What have you got there, Rosy?” he asks.

Rose looks at him with furrowed brows. “A candy cane, silly. Here, I’ll show you how to make it,” she answers. Rose does a quick demonstration, but John still struggles. Somehow he’s managed to mix the parts to create pink. Rose shakes her head, lips tugging into a frown. “My hands are too small; can you help him?” She turns to you. Long lashes frame her doe eyes, and you can’t bring yourself to say no.

You glance at John to find he’s staring at you. Shifting in your seat, you say, “If you don’t mind…?”

John maintains eye contact. “I’m all yours,” and the smile he gives you is bashful. You fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks, but it’s like trying to douse a flame with gasoline. The heat intensifies, and you grab a tissue to wipe your clammy hands, muttering an excuse about the dye staining your skin.

You focus on the table, resisting the temptation to turn your head and meet the gaze burning into your face. “You take equal parts of each dough and roll them into logs.” You pause to make sure he’s following along. “Once they’re the same size, you can twist them together to form a cane.” John is about to mush his cookie as children tend to do with playdough; always mixing the colours. You grab his hands to stop him. His fingers twitch against your palms, but he doesn’t recoil. “Like this,” and you twist your cookie, rolling it some more to flatten the cane.

“You make it sound so easy,” John huffs.

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s not too bad once you get the hang of it.”

John shakes his head. “Give me a pistol, and I can field strip and reassemble in a few minutes.” He holds up a warped cookie. “This, this I can’t do.”

You bump your shoulders together. “I’ll have you baking like a pro.”

John grins; it’s boyish and charming—it pulls you in like a flower reaching for a ray of sunlight. “Is that a promise?” he asks, lashes framing an expanse of blue. And once again, you are hopelessly lost at sea.

“Only if you’ll invite me over again,” you quip.

“Is this flirting?” Rose asks. Her head pops up behind John’s shoulder. “If Daddy won’t invite you, I will.”

You smile as John buries his face in his hands. “Thank you, Rose,” you say.

She returns the gesture with a wide grin. “You’re very welcome.”

You continue making the cookies in silence, gaslighting yourself into thinking that the numerous brushes against your hand are accidental. 7/10 times you’re grabbing something, John also happens to be reaching for the same item. The cookie under your palm flattens into a pancake when his body leans ever-so-slightly into yours. Thankfully this is the last cookie, and you place it on the baking tray with the rest.

Rose insists on putting the tray into the oven herself, and John watches her like a hawk, hovering behind her in case he needs to step in.

Once John’s certain the apartment won’t burst into flames, he rolls up his sleeves. You eye the veins along his arms as subtly as you can, wincing like a child caught in the act of misbehaving when John speaks. “Can you please help Rose clean up? I need to get started on dinner,” he asks.

“Yes, Chef,” and you give a mock salute. “Alright, Rose. I’ll wash all the dishes in the sink. Can you wipe the counter?” you ask her.

Rose straightens her back and nods. “Affirmative,” she replies, marching to grab a towel.

You begin collecting the bowls and utensils, plugging the drain afterwards to fill up the sink. A few drops of soap and a mountain of suds form. With a sponge, you begin scrubbing away at bits of dried-up dough and red dye. In the corner of your eye, Rose is reprimanding Mr. Bear on how he needs to pull his weight too and that it doesn’t matter if he’s not heavy because he’s full of stuffing.

“You’ve got an adorable soldier,” you say, turning your head to John, who’s heating a pan on the stove.

John watches Rose with deep affection. Those are the eyes of a man staring at the purpose of his existence. “She’s a trooper, alright,” and the smile on his face is lax.

“What’s on the menu tonight?” you ask, adding more soap to your sponge. The remaining traces of dye are giving you grief.

“Fish and chips; one of Rosy’s favourites,” John answers.

“Daddy makes the best!” Rose pipes up.

John shakes his head, and the base of his neck flushes. “She’s exaggerating,” he says.

You smirk, “I’ll be the judge of that.” The chuckle your words elicit from John fills you with a pleasant buzz.

“I have to warn you. I aim to please,” and the lilt in John’s voice encourages you further.

“Yes, you certainly look the type,” you say, eyes trailing up and down his figure. John’s body trembles under your gaze. “Is it just you and Rose here?” You don’t know if he’s divorced, but you don’t recall seeing a ring on his finger.

“She’s dead,” John says. Concise and well-practiced. The plate in your hand slips and splashes into the sink with a thud, shattering the silence. You look over at John, but his back is to you. Shoulders hunched and head low. “Died during childbirth,” he adds, and the slight wobble churns your stomach. You should have known. Should have guessed from how the pictures on the walls only contain two subjects. Rose only ever talks about her father and grandparents. How could you be so fucking blind?

You crush the sponge in your hands, and bubbles seep out between your fingers. An apology is on the tip of your tongue, straining under the weight of your rapid thoughts. Day one, and you’ve already stepped on a mine. A phantom pain aches in your chest, grieving the loss of a love you never had in the first place. John says nothing. Continues to fry the fish in silence. Pops of oil like the rounds of a machine gun, but not loud enough to drown out the hammering of your heart.

Rose breaks the silent war. “I cleaned the counter. Can I check on the cookies?” she asks.

The apology dies on your tongue, and you tear your eyes away from John’s back, missing how the tension bleeds from his body. “Of course,” you say, placing the last dish on the drying rack. “Do you know how?”

“Nana showed me the buttons because I accidentally turned off the oven before,” Rose replies. She hands you her towel, and you lump it in the sink with yours. Rose walks up to the oven, and John moves to the side. You hang back, grappling with the temptation to steal a glance. You’re not sure what’s worse: John catching you staring or the disappointment of him not staring back. In the end, you decide to focus on Rose. She awes at the cookies and beckons you closer. You shuffle towards her, sticking close to the opposite side.“We should leave extra for the reindeer and elves who want some too!”

You smile and pat her head. “Next time you can buy peppermint extract so they’ll taste like candy canes too!” you suggest. Rose’s eyes widen. She looks at you like you have the biggest brain in the world. Your confidence skyrockets, but a quick peek at John sends you plummeting back to Earth. You can’t read the expression on his face, and it worries you.

“They look so good! Santa will definitely grant my wish!” Rose’s comment piques your interest.

“What’s your wish?” you ask, crouching down to her level.

Rose glances at her father before lowering her voice. “I can’t tell you with Daddy around; it might make him sad.” Your jaw slackens. What could a child wish for that would make their parents unhappy?

Dinner is served, and the seating arrangement remains unchanged. True to John’s words, Rose devours her dinner. She even asks for seconds. “I’m a growing girl,” is all she responds with when she notices your amused expression.

The conversation consists of small talk. You learn they moved into the complex two years after you did. It’s honestly amazing how you didn’t run into them earlier. John doesn’t talk about his job, but he asks you plenty of questions about yours. You’re happy to answer. Glad to have something to talk about that won’t prod old wounds. Before you know it, you’re cracking jokes, and John is struggling to breathe. His laughter is intoxicating, and like an addict, you crave another dose. Rose watches the entire interaction with a broad smile, nibbling on her food as her eyes ping pong across the table.

John leans forward and hangs off your every word. Every ounce of his attention focused solely on you. You pause mid-story, caught up in the softness of his features. Before he can ask you what’s wrong, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull out the device to see it’s a text notification. The time on the screen reads 9:30 pm. It’s getting late, and from the way Rose slumps in her chair, she should be in bed soon.

“I should go. Rose looks like she’s about to pass out,” you say.

“M’not sleepy,” Rose argues, rubbing her eyes.

John rises from his seat. “I’ll clean up. Rosy, why don’t you say goodbye to our guest?”

Rose gets out of her chair with Mr. Bear and holds your hand, leading you to the entrance. John steps forward but stops himself. He turns to collect the dishes, and you walk away, feeling the heat of his gaze lingering on your back.

As you’re slipping on your shoes, you ask Rose, “Now that it’s just us, do you want to tell me your wish?” She glances behind her. The faint sounds of porcelain clattering against metal travel along the corridor.

“You can’t tell Daddy, but I don’t want him to be lonely. He doesn’t cry at night anymore when he thinks I’m sleeping, but he still looks like a raccoon in the morning,” Rose says, pinching an invisible zipper between her fingers and dragging it across her lips. You copy the gesture and even go as far as to mime turning a key and tossing it over your shoulder. You have a sneaking suspicion, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.

Unlocking the door, you reach for the doorknob. “Wait,” John shouts, stopping you in your tracks. He jogs up to you and holds out a reusable takeout container and your bag of groceries. “I made too much. Take some leftovers with you.” You peer inside, and there’s a generous portion. How much did he cook?

“I’m tired. I’m getting ready for bed,” Rose suddenly announces.

John chuckles, “I thought you weren’t tired earlier?”

“That was earlier. I’m tired now.” Rose walks off to her room, mumbling to Mr. Bear. The only snippet you catch is something about ‘having a moment.’ You take the container and bag from John, fingertips touching. He doesn’t let go, and you’re left standing there awkwardly.

“Don’t feel bad about what happened earlier,” John says, withdrawing his hands and shoving them into his pockets.

Earli—oh. Your cheeks tingle with warmth. You clear your throat and bring the container close to your chest. “I didn’t mean to pry, I just wanted….” You pause.

“Wanted what?” John asks, and his eyes are wide and pleading. He waits and doesn’t push. Watches as you chew on the inside of your cheek and avoid his gaze.

When you finally gather the courage to look at his face, tender eyes observe you. Does he feel the same? A wave of confidence washes over you, and you decide to take the risk. “To know if I have a fighting chance,” you say.

The corners of John’s lips boomerang up and then back down. His eyebrows draw together, and he almost looks… scared. “Love, I work in the military. I’m a single father. I don’t have much to offer,” John rasps, the words constricting his chest like a vine of thorns. His throat bobs, and he closes his eyes, steeling his body. Because bracing for impact is a natural human response in an attempt to lessen the damage of an imminent crash.

You smile softly. “And if I said I didn’t mind? That I’ll wait for you to come back and become Rose’s favourite while you’re gone?” John’s eyes snap open wide. He stares at you like you’re some sort of mythical creature; a being that can’t possibly exist in this world. Here is a man with his own baggage, who carries a burden on his shoulders that you will never comprehend. And you want to learn how to love him anyway. His expression softens, and he gravitates toward you.

“When I saw how you handle Rose, I didn’t think I could like you more than I already do,” John says.

Your ears perk. “You like me?” you ask. You didn’t think the attraction went both ways.

John rubs the back of his neck, and his cheeks flush. “Might have seen you use the elevator a few times… regularly,” he confesses. “I’ve liked you for a while.”

“And you never tried to say hello?” you tease him, placing a hand on your hip. The pain that flashes across his face is brief, but it stops you from continuing. You decide to change the topic. “Can I kiss you goodbye?” Your face engulfs in flames. “On the cheek, I mean!”

The pink dusting John’s face darkens. “Only if I get to kiss you—on the forehead,” he clarifies.

“Deal.” You place a quick peck on John’s cheek, his skin an inferno against your lips. He cups your face and leans in. It’s soft and leaves you tingling from head to toe. A laugh bubbles in your chest. You slap a hand to cover the dopey grin spreading across your face. “Sorry. I'm just really happy.”

John’s thumb caresses your cheeks. His blue eyes are sparkling. “So am I, Darling. Goodnight,” he says, leaning forward to plant another kiss. You close your eyes and make a content hum, basking in his warmth.

John opens the door for you and leans against the doorframe after you step out. The hallway is relatively dark, and the lights from the apartment bathe him in an ethereal glow. A smile graces his features, and the current that threatened to pull you under has settled into gentle ripples. “Night, John,” you reply, waving goodbye.

A smug grin stretches his smile, and he winks at you. “See ya later, Love.”

You skip to your apartment. The door behind you doesn’t click shut until you disappear from sight. You head to the fridge first to store the leftovers. You find a note when you put away your groceries. Fishing out the paper, it reads: ‘Rose’s bedtime is 10 pm.’

The clock on your stovetop tells you it’s 9:50.

Where did you put that expensive bottle of whiskey you bought years ago?

Bonus Scene:

John tucks his daughter into bed, pulling the blanket to her chin. “What else did you wish for, Rosy?” he asks. It’s become a tradition to figure out her Christmas present. He makes sure to ask her right before bed when he’s certain she won’t remember the conversation in the morning.

Rose snuggles into her pillow, hugging the stuffed bear close to her chest. Her voice is muffled and thick with sleepiness, but he hears it crystal clear. “A little sister.”

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

Happy early Valentine's Day! I can't wait to consume the Valentine-themed content for all the fandoms I'm in. Not related, but I saw a cowboy ghost render on IG and I think I'm going to have to go back to writing something for him ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯

Time to drop off the face of the Earth for a month or two again.

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price #captain john price #cod x reader #cod mwii #single dad price #gender neutral reader #no y/n #And they were apartmentmates!#I will update the tags with something funnier once my brain isn't mush

515 notes · View notes

starboyyoongi · 2 months

Text

reckless. min yoongi au

⭑ summary: an empty bed and three women in black. two things that are very different in nature yet are the very same things that end up being the reason why yoongi’s life takes an unexpected turn in more ways than one.

⭑ pairings: min yoongi x black!female reader

⭑ warnings/tags: mentions of blood and murder, cursing but not too much, reader is the head of a mafia

⭑ notes: this is a super condensed drabble-like version of a fic idea that i have that isn’t completely fleshed out nor is it written yet. i thought about keeping the fic to myself until i actually wrote it, but decided that i wanna share it in small increments like this instead (: (kind of like my own little way of getting my creative juices flowing i guess). please note that these drabbles will not be copy and pasted into the final version of the fic! feel free to leave your thoughts and i hope that you guys enjoy! x

THIS IS SO fucking boring, yoongi thought to himself as he dropped his gaze to his paper once more.

he couldn’t tell you what page they were on nor could he tell you what they were even talking about. all yoongi knew was that he was going to have a lot of catching up to do once the meeting was over and he was not looking forward to it at all. his mind starts to drift once more and he wonders how you did it. how were you able to pay attention in these meetings? how were you able to stay awake without banging your head against the table every five seconds? how were you able to do this back to back for sometimes a week straight?

yoongi will admit that he underestimated this part of the job. when things were initially thrusted onto him months ago, he found himself worrying about everything under the sun; how to talk to the other executives, how to manage the company’s payroll - shit, he was even worried about the plants in the lobby. it was silly, yes, but yoongi was truly clueless about his new position.

he still remembers the relief he felt when he was told that he’d be having someone guide him along for the first few weeks. it was one of the many things that you had set up before your sudden departure and yoongi couldn’t have been more thankful.

but the meetings.

god, the fucking meetings.

that was something that he wasn’t prepared for at all.

yoongi had no problem talking.

despite how nerve wracking it could be at times, yoongi was a natural at talking in meetings. so much so that he’s lead a couple of them himself and had everyone in the room singing him praises for days afterwards. talking was the last thing that min yoongi ever had to worry about in a meeting.

no, what was really his problem - his achilles heel, if you will - was having to hear others talk for long periods of time. he hated it. no, he despised it. yoongi despised how much time he had to waste listening to a room full of men drone on and on about things that they clearly didn’t care about let alone took time to read up on - another thing that he had come to hate about the meetings, too. seeing the look of shock on the other executives and assistants faces whenever he spoke was enough for yoongi to know that he was the only one in the room who actually knew what he was talking about.

he softly scoffed and shook his head.

what a bunch of morons, he thought.

yoongi’s mind was about to wander off again, but his thoughts came to a sudden halt when the lights flickered back on and the projector began to get shut down. breathing out a sigh of relief, he pushed his chair back and glanced around the room. the meeting was finally over.

yoongi stood up and began to gather his things which wasn’t much to begin with. a few of the associates started to come up to him and greet him before striking up meaningless conversation. he answered back with a small smile on his face and feigned interest in his voice; this was nothing but routine as usual for him. after another five minutes of fake smiles and promises of catching up over some lunch and golf, yoongi was finally able to leave.

as soon as he stepped inside of his office, yoongi threw his things down on the nearby coffee table and took a seat on the couch. just as he was about to shift into a comfortable position to lay down in, there was a knock at his door. he contemplated over whether or not he should answer.

maybe if i stay quiet they’ll go away, the tired man thought to himself.

“mr min? are you in there?” a familiar voice called out, words slightly muffled by the door.

yoongi sighed.

“yes, jongho, come in,” he replied.

jongho, his assistant, poked his head through the crack in the door and smiled before walking in. yoongi took note of the papers in the younger man’s hands and silently prayed that they weren’t for him. he couldn’t handle any more paperwork for the day.

“you look like shit” jongho said as he took a seat across from yoongi who was now sporting an irritated look on his face.

“wow, jongho, thank you so much for noticing. anything else you wanna point out?” yoongi asked in a sarcastic tone.

jongho giggled and shook his head before saying, “i’m just messing with you, sir. seriously, though, you look pretty tired. is everything okay?”

yoongi nodded and replied, “i’m fine. that meeting just sucked the life out of me is all.”

“figures. i saw lee on my way here and had a feeling that the meeting was shit as usual.”

“that bastard never knows what he’s talking about yet still shows up and wastes everyone’s time. why do we keep doing business with him anyways?”

“he’s an investor, mr min. but if it makes you feel better, y/n didn’t like him either. she always hoped that he’d have an accident and wouldn’t show up.”

“of course she did,” yoongi muttered with a small smile upon hearing your name. “anyways, what’s up? are those papers for me?”

“no, no, these are for me. i just came in here to remind you that you have dinner with kim and park tonight” jongho said.

“thank you, i almost forgot about it. the dinner’s at eight, right?” yoongi asked as he rose to a standing position.

jongho followed suit as he answered, “yes. do you need me to get anything for you to bring later?”

“no, that’s okay,” yoongi said with a wave of his hand. “we’re eating at jimin’s anyways and i usually don’t bring anything, so.”

jongho nodded in response. “alright then, sounds good. i have to go and fax these documents, but is there anything else that you need from me?” he asked.

yoongi shook his head and waved his hand once more, signaling to jongho that he was free to go. once the door was closed shut, he settled into his chair and logged back into his computer. as he waited for the screen to load, he glanced at the time, but quickly wished that he hadn’t.

12:45 PM.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…” yoongi muttered.

⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑

maybe it was the long day that he had or maybe it was the glass of whiskey that he had before he came, but yoongi was almost positive that there was something wrong with his eyesight. he blinked once, twice, three times before he glanced at namjoon then at jimin then back at namjoon once more. the older of the two casually sipped away at his champagne while the younger wiped his red stained hand with a napkin.

sucking in a breath, yoongi asked, “are you two going to tell me what the fuck is going on or am i supposed to pretend that i don’t see all of… this in front me?”

silence.

“hello? i know that you two heard me. answer my question” yoongi said, annoyance clear in his voice.

silence.

yoongi’s grip on his wine glass tightened.

“answer me right now or i swear to fucking god-” yoongi started saying, but he was cut off by namjoon who finally decided to speak.

“i’m not the one who’s covered in blood here. if anything, jimin should be the one to explain himself” namjoon spoke.

jimin scoffed and quickly replied, “you may not be covered in blood, but the both of us are responsible for spilling it.”

yoongi’s eyes widened at jimin’s words.

“excuse me? what is he talking about? what are you talking about, jimin?” yoongi asked as he looked between the two.

his words, however, fell on deaf ears. neither namjoon nor jimin were paying attention to him. the pair was too busy bickering with one another and throwing around curse words instead.

“why the fuck didn’t you clean yourself up afterwards? you knew we were having dinner tonight.”

“you say it as if i purposely decided to show up in bloody clothes.”

“did you not? you’re literally sitting at the dinner table looking like you just finished slaughtering a fucking pig.”

“i mean, well, technically i did slaughter a pig tonight. so…”

now yoongi was really confused.

“wait, you- you slaughtered a pig before dinner? the two of you?” he asked in a confused tone.

“no, yoongi,” jimin said with a sigh. he looked away from namjoon then to yoongi as he continued. “we didn’t- i didn’t kill a literal pig tonight. i killed a man.”

yoongi couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“you killed… a man.”

“yes.”

“and you’re covered in blood.”

“yes.”

“his blood. that man’s blood.”

“yes.”

“not a pig’s blood?”

“not a pig’s blood,” jimin confirmed before chuckling. “jeez, why are you acting like you’ve never seen someone covered in blood before? did y/n not come home looking like this?”

yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed. he shook his head and said, “no, she didn’t. why would y/n come home like that anyways?”

with those words, it was now namjoon and jimin’s turn to be confused. they glanced at one another before glancing at yoongi who looked just as, if not more, confused as they did.

“yoongi, do you…” namjoon started slowly, pausing for a moment to think about what he was going to say. “do you know what y/n does? like, what she really does?”

“she runs the company that her father left for her,” yoongi answered almost immediately. “why? is there another company that she’s running or something?”

jimin jumped in, “not a company per se. more like a… business of some sort. well, businesses.”

“businesses?” yoongi parroted. “what do you mean businesses? namjoon, what the hell is jimin talking about? what are you two talking about?”

jimin and namjoon looked at each other once again with an unreadable expression on their faces. a sudden wave of anxiety washed over yoongi as he watched the pair with curiosity. he didn’t know it then, but what was about to come out of their mouths would ring in his ears for days to come.

“yoongi,” jimin started in a low, serious tone. “i’m not sure what y/n told you, but… the company isn’t the only thing that her father left for her. nor is she just the head of it.”

namjoon continued in the same tone, “y/n isn’t just another name in the business world, yoongi. she is the sole heir of the jade dragons.”

yoongi’s stomach started to turn.

“heir? she’s the heir?” yoongi muttered.

namjoon nodded in response.

“heir… so that means that she’s…” yoongi couldn’t say it. his tongue felt heavy and it was like the words were all of a sudden stuck in his throat.

he started shaking his head in disbelief.

this had to be some kind of sick and twisted joke, right?

“no,” yoongi said with his voice raised. “no, you’re lying, namjoon. you have to be. you have to be fucking lying to me right now.”

yoongi suddenly stood up from his chair, prompting namjoon and jimin to the same. jimin glanced at the wine glass that yoongi hadn’t put down since the conversation started and noticed how much tighter he was gripping it. it looked like it was about to break any second.

“yoongi, i know you’re in shock right now,” jimin said calmly. “but i think you should put the glass down. you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“that’s what you’re concerned about? and not the fact that you two have been fucking lying to me this entire time?” yoongi asked in disbelief.

“yes. i mean, no. i mean- look, i can explain everything, okay? i just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“tell me it isn’t true.”

“yoongi, i…”

“tell me it isn’t true, jimin.”

“i can’t… yoongi, i can’t.”

no.

“jimin, i swear to fucking god. tell me right now that it isn’t true.”

please, jimin.

“it’s true, yoongi.”

please.

“no. it can’t be.”

please.

“it is, yoongi. it’s true. we’re not lying.”

please.

the sound of the wine glass suddenly breaking filled the room. yoongi could barely register the small pieces of glass that were now digging into his skin and drawing blood. namjoon reached across the table to assess yoongi’s hand, but he moved his hand away and stepped back.

“she’s the head now, isn’t she? she’s the head of the jade dragons” yoongi spoke quietly.

namjoon lowered his head and sighed before humming in agreement.

yoongi opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, anyways? the woman that he once knew was now a stranger—a fact that yoongi tried to ignore since the day that you left, but was now irrefutable—and so were the two men that stood in front of him.

strangers.

the four of you were nothing but strangers to one another.

and maybe that’s all you’d ever be now.

72 notes · View notes

its-jaytothemee · 2 months

Text

A Burden Shared - Part III: Relief

Pairings: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav

Word count: 4,701; Tav POV; Final Part

Rating: Explicit, 18+; MDNI

Read on AO3

Summary: A group sparring session turns sour, and Astarion becomes very protective of Tav. Halsin goes to comfort Tav afterwards and ends up confessing some feelings he's had for a while now.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Feelings Confessions, Spoilers for Act 3, Sparring, Protective Astarion, Soft Halsin, Tav needs a fucking hug, Oral Sex, PiV Sex

Author's Note: Third and final part, smut incoming. Thanks so much for reading!

Tav and Halsin walked back into the camp together, exchanging slightly awkward glances and conversation. He broke off from her with a smile once the camp was in sight. She gave a small wave and then saw a few of her companions wandering over towards her. Astarion, Karlach, and…Lae’zel? Astarion and Karlach were walking a step or two behind Lae’zel, Astarion was speaking to her, but Tav couldn’t make out the words.

“Hello, darling.” Astarion said with a slight bow of his head. “I do hope you’re feeling better.”

“Um, yeah. A little.” She was desperately trying to hide how anxious she felt at the moment.

“I’m glad to hear it, my dear. Now, I believe Lae’zel has something she would like to say to you.” He was trying to sound light and happy, but underneath Tav could hear a much more threatening tone.

“I believe I owe you an…apology.” Lae’zel said the last word through gritted teeth. Tav looked at Astarion, who smiled innocently.

“Lae’zel, you don’t have to–” Tav was cut off by a grunt from Lae’zel who was glaring at Karlach.

“No. I…insist.” Her jaw was so tightly clenched that Tav was sure she would grind her teeth to dust.

“I spoke out of turn earlier. There is not a single person here who has not benefited from your kindness,” she paused and took a deep breath, “myself included.”

Tav stood staring at her, only managing to blink in response.

“I acted rashly and out of frustration. You have proven many times over to be an effective warrior and leader. This culture is still new to me, and sometimes I still find the customs vexing. I am sorry.” Her jaw had unclenched slightly before she finished talking. By the end, she almost sounded sincere.

“Thank you, Lae’zel. Apology accepted.” Tav smiled and held out her hand, which Lae’zel took for a very tight handshake. She glared at Astarion before turning away with a huff to go back to her tent. Tav turned her attention back to Karlach and Astarion.

“Awful nice of Lae’zel to come make amends, eh Soldier?” Karlach beamed at her.

“Yeah…incredibly nice of her to do that. Entirely on her own.” Tav responded, her eyes shifting back to Astarion.

“Yes, well I suppose everyone makes mistakes from time to time, darling.” He was still maintaining his innocent smile.

Karlach started to walk away but turned back around to whisper not so quietly in Tav’s ear.

“It was all Astarion.” She winked.

“Yeah, I got that buddy.” Tav whispered back. She turned back to Astarion once Karlach had walked away. He was still smiling. A warm feeling spread throughout her body as she smiled back at him. Stepping forward, she grabbed him by the collar and gave him a long, gentle kiss.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“Whatever for?” He kept his aura of innocence intact. Tav rolled her eyes at him.

“Deny it all you want, but you did something very nice for me.”

“How dare you!” Astarion looked properly offended. Tav just smiled back. “Those kinds of accusations could get you into serious trouble, my dear. Best to keep it just between ourselves.”

“Not a chance. I’m going to tell anyone who will listen that Astarion Ancunin did something selfless and kindhearted.” She teased, taking a step like she was going to walk away. He caught her arm and pulled her back into another kiss.

“Now now, don’t go ruining my reputation.” He said softly.

“Fine, it’ll be our little secret.” She leaned into him and placed her head on his chest. Feeling his arms wrap around her, she let herself relax into him for a moment.

“You’re not alone, Tav. I hope you know that.” He whispered.

“I do.” She replied.

They stood in their embrace for a while, Tav working up the courage to bring up her conversation with Halsin. She looked around to see if they were far enough away from the others to talk. Karlach had ears like a godsdamned bat.

“So…how was your little walk in the woods? It seems like Halsin was able to help lift your spirits a little bit.” He pulled away from her.

Tav felt her heart start to race and a pit of anxiety form in her stomach.

“Uh, good…like I said I just needed to clear my head…” She could hear the nervousness creeping into her voice. One of her hands shot up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re being weird…why are you being weird?” Astarion asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Um…” Tav paused, she could feel herself starting to blush.

“You can tell me, Tav.” He smiled softly at her.

“You uh…you wouldn’t believe the conversation I just had with Halsin.” She laughed nervously.

Astarion gave her a confused look, then suddenly let out a very loud laugh.

“Ha! I wondered when you would come talk to me about this.” He said, still laughing a little bit. Tav really wasn’t sure if the laughter was a good thing or not.

“Oh did…did Halsin already talk to you?” She asked, trying to judge his reaction.

“Oh darling, he didn’t need to. The two of you aren’t exactly subtle. For fucks’ sake Tav, you nearly introduced yourself as ‘fuckable’ when we first met him.”

Tav’s guilt from earlier in the day returned tenfold. She hid her face in her hands, regretting her decision to even bring this up.

“Gods, you must think I’m horrible…” She said, thankful that she seemed to have run out of tears for the day.

“You? Never. There’s no need to be embarrassed.” Astarion took her hands away from her face and gently and held them against his chest. “Gods know I’ve stolen my fair share of glances at the druid. I mean I saw him coming out of the river after a swim once and gods above…” Astarion stared off past her for a moment before shaking his head and bringing his attention back to her.

“I trust you, Tav. If this is something you want, I…” He paused. “I’m not opposed.”

Tav’s head snapped up to him, surprised.

“You’re…you’re not?” She asked, trying to make sure she was understanding.

“Halsin has experience with this kind of arrangement. He’s someone who I would trust to navigate it respectfully. I don’t know that I’m quite ready to jump into bed all together yet but…” He looked down at her hands and squeezed them just a little bit tighter.

“I just have to ask,” his voice was now barely louder than a whisper, “you aren’t asking this just because we…because we haven’t…you know in a while.” He was looking at the ground now, watching his feet kick some dirt around.

“Astarion, look at me.” She moved one of her hands to rest on his cheek, lifting his chin up to meet her gaze. “I never want you to think that for a moment. Sex or no sex, I want you by my side, always. If you told me that you couldn’t do this, I would refuse him right away. I just wanted to know if this was something you would be open to.”

“I know that, I was being silly. I just needed to hear it from you.” He turned his head to kiss the hand she had on his cheek. “Go, have fun with Halsin. Far be it from me to hold your hunger against you.”

“Thank you…for trusting me.” Tav responded, hugging him again.

Astarion and Tav walked back over towards the rest of camp together, breaking off at his tent. Tav walked to Halsin’s tent to find him whittling on the ground in front of it.

“Making another protection charm? I would love something that keeps the mosquitoes away from my tent.” She teased.

Halsin looked up at her and grinned.

“Ha, I’m glad your sense of humor seems to have returned. Unfortunately, I’m not aware of the god who you must pay homage to in order to keep mosquitoes away.” He stood up, sitting his tools to the side.

“Surely Silvanus could help,” she continued, “after all they are considered one of nature’s creations. At least I would assume.”

“Given how often I’ve already prayed to him asking him to protect you, I would assume he’s already done everything in his power.” His smile was more distracting to her now than ever.

“Have you already spoken to Astarion? A delicate topic of discussion I’m sure, so please take your time.” He was trying to keep his voice light, but Tav could hear a bit of a nervous edge to it.

“I have.” She responded quickly. “He’s open to what you proposed.”

“That is most gratifying to hear.” Halsin suddenly had a huge smile on his face, one that Tav returned.

“So…what happens now?” She asked.

“Now? Now we will have each other, but not just each other.” He responded, still smiling. “I do not ask you to pledge yourself to me. You are all I want, but I only wish to share in your heart, not keep it entirely for myself. Let others know the joy of being with you as well.”

Tav nodded in response, taking one of his hands in hers.

“I understand…this is what I want.” She said quietly.

“Then meet me tonight, after the others have gone to bed. Come back down by the river where we talked earlier.” He kissed her hand lightly before leaning in close to whisper in her ear. “But do not expect to get much rest.”

The words caused Tav’s cheeks to flush and a shiver to run down her spine. Halsin slowly let go of her hand and walked away towards the center of camp where their companions were starting to gather for their evening meal. She smiled after him and caught Astarion’s gaze, who gave her a smile and thumbs up gesture. His eagerness on her behalf made her giggle a little bit.

The rest of the evening was typical of their group. They each had a plate with a mix of cheeses and dried sausage, accompanied by glasses of wine from the various bottles they had opened. Everyone was laughing and joking as usual, all evidence of their earlier drama seemed to have faded away to Tav’s relief. Most everyone came to check on her, making sure her injuries were healed and that she was feeling better. She tried to give them her full attention, but she was already distracted thinking about the night to come. Every now and then she would catch Halsin looking at her and her heart rate would quicken again. Her obvious lack of focus gave Astarion plenty of material to joke about for the evening. Quietly and lovingly teasing her about tonight and other nights to come. Hearing him able to joke about their new relationship status put her even more at ease.

Slowly but surely, all of her friends started to retire for the night. She caught Halsin heading off into the trees rather soon after he finished his meal. It took all Tav’s self-control not to follow him immediately. It wasn’t too long after that Astarion excused himself for the night, giving her a soft kiss before leaving.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, darling.” He whispered with a wink. She smiled as she watched him walk away.

Tav offered to clean up the rest of the mess left after their meal, making sure everyone was off in their own tents before she followed after Halsin. As she stepped into the bushes, her heart began to race again, just as it had earlier in the day. However, before she was running away from her responsibilities, from her obligations. Now, she was running toward the start of something new.

***

Tav broke through the trees into the cleared area near the riverbank. She spotted Halsin standing next to a nearby tree, shirtless and eyes closed, his outstretched hand resting on the trunk. It was a very clear night and the moon cast a soft light across his face that made her heart flutter. She took a few more slow steps toward him, eventually stepping on a small twig that caused him to snap his head towards her.

“Ah, there you are. I wasn’t sure if you would show, I started to wonder if this was all too soon.” He said with a smile. Tav could hear a hint of nervousness underneath his smiling face.

“Nonsense,” she responded, “this is something I’ve wanted for some time.”

Halsin’s gaze suddenly shifted, and she felt as if he was peering into her very soul.

“As have I. Still, this is like a fantasy. I almost dare not to blink, lest you fade away into the night as you did in so many of my dreams.”

Tav slowly moved towards him, closing the gap between them with each step.

“Push those doubts from your mind, Halsin. I’m right here with you.” She reached up and placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily at her touch.

“Yes, you are.” He whispered, almost in disbelief. “You have no idea how hard it has been to contain myself. I almost dare not give in now or else I will devour you entirely.” There was a hunger in his eyes that Tav had never seen before. It was intoxicating, taking all of her energy not to drag him to her level and kiss him until she was dizzy. She held his gaze, taking long, steadying breaths to keep her legs from giving out from under her.

“Well, that is why I’m here.” She responded, desire dripping from every syllable. Halsin smirked in response, sending a pulse of excitement through her entire body.

“Nevertheless, I will be gentle.” He said quietly. With startling speed, he stripped the remaining clothes from his body, barely breaking eye contact with Tav.

“Or at least, I shall try.” He had a wicked smile on his lips.

A moment later he was all over her. His large arms wrapped around her shoulders and waist, drawing her as close as possible. Their lips pressed together tightly, yet somehow also in the most tender way that made Tav want to melt further into his embrace. She felt his tongue gently part her lips to glide over her own. His warm skin pressed against every inch of her, taking away some of the chill from the evening breeze blowing past them. She reached her arms up to curl around his neck, pulling him even closer to her. He was already hard, pressing his erection against her thigh. Suddenly, he lifted her up and she quickly wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him like he was a piece of driftwood, and she was a lost soul at sea. He pressed her back up against a nearby tree, continuing to hold and kiss her until she felt as if she was going to faint. The bark of the tree was rough against her back, a stark contrast to Halsin’s smooth hands on her neck and arms. Tav pulled away slightly, their lips still barely touching.

“I suddenly feel overdressed.” Out of breath, she breathed the words out back into Halsin’s mouth. He smiled against her lips, gently releasing her to stand back on the ground.

Tav slowly moved her hands down to where her shirt was tucked in to her pants. While Halsin’s eager kisses were still distracting her, she pulled the fabric slowly up to her neck. He reached up and helped to pull the garment the rest of the way over her head, just briefly parting his lips apart from hers to do so. The warmth of their torsos pressed against each other made Tav smile. She reached down towards the top of her pants and as she did so, Halsin started kissing his way down her body. Her hands fumbled with the strings at her belt as she was fully preoccupied by the trail his lips left down her chest and stomach. Suddenly she felt him gently tugging at the strings with his teeth, quickly undoing the simple knot. Their hands worked together to slowly pull the remaining clothing from her lower body. She kicked the garments away as Halsin stood and slowly took a couple of steps back away from her.

“Just as nature intended.” His voice was a low growl, causing a flush to come over Tav’s face and chest.

“Come here to me.” He said in the same primal growling tone, his hungry eyes looking over every part of her.

She went to take a step towards him, but suddenly he stopped and hunched over slightly. A slight magical glow surrounded him, highlighting every line and groove across his body. With another growl and familiar hum of magic, the handsome elf before her suddenly transformed into a large cave bear. The creature’s eyes still glowed with the same lust she saw in Halsin’s elf form. After just a moment or two, the golden glow returned and Halsin was standing before her once more.

“I…I’m sorry.” He huffed. “Sometimes when blood runs hot enough it can be difficult to tame the beast.” He looked away from her, suddenly seeming ashamed of his loss of control. The display had startled Tav without question, but she thought no less of him for it. In fact, she was rather thrilled that his desire for her made him unable to control his druidic transformations.

“I’m flattered that I have that effect on you, love.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Now come back over here.” Tav held her hand out, inviting him back into her arms.

A relieved smile spread across his face as he took a step towards her.

“I need no further encouragement.” He said, still slightly out of breath.

With that, he took her hand and was pressed against her once more, backing her body up against the tree again. He kissed every inch of her jaw and neck, earning small moans and sighs from her with each one. She had one arm around his neck and one around his waist, her fingers digging into his skin trying to pull him as close to her as possible. His cock pressed against her hips, warm and hard. She brought one of her legs up to hook around his thigh and started to slowly grind against him, feeling him twitch against the movements. Halsin let out a long sigh against her neck, moving his hips in time with hers.

After a few moments, he broke away and started to kiss down her torso again. His hands were constantly moving, tracing small shapes into her skin, every now and then pressing his hands harder into her back to pull her closer to him. He let his mouth wander over her breasts, catching each of her nipples with a small flick of his tongue. She felt like a pile of ooze, whimpering helplessly at each gentle touch. Continuing down her body, his kisses became slower and more teasing. Before she knew it he was kneeling in front of her, hands gently pushing her legs a little further apart.

He continued his tortuous kissing around her stomach, moving his way to her inner thighs, lightly biting the soft skin. She dug her nails into the skin of his arms and shoulders, soaking in every sensation. As he continued to kiss and bite along her legs, his hands slowly made their way up the front of her thighs to her sex. His warm fingers moved around her folds, spreading the wetness around them. He used his thumbs to massage her, causing her knees to buckle but he held her up. They slowly slid up and circled her clit, one at a time. Her entire core was aching under his touch. She was torn between pushing him to the ground and immediately taking him or letting him continue to tease her so this could be drawn out for as long as possible. Tav worked one of her hands into his hair, lightly caressing his scalp.

The movement caused Halsin to moan against her leg, which she returned in kind. She gently tugged at his hair, pulling him up to where his hands were eagerly pleasuring her. His fingers were quickly replaced by his tongue causing a loud gasp from Tav. As his hands greedily grabbed at her thighs and butt, his tongue swirled and flicked its way around her entire cunt. She could feel her legs starting to shake under the sudden change of pace, she tangled her hands further into his hair, pressing his face harder into her pelvis. She could feel his lips turn up into a smile at the motion, a small moan vibrating against her sensitive skin.

“Gods…fuuuuck…” She could barely choke out a word in between her gasping and whimpers.

Halsin didn’t let up, he continued to lick and suck, every now and then letting one of his fingers come up and help. She could feel her body building towards release as she concentrated on Halsin’s tongue tasting every bit of her. Her toes curled into the soft earth below her under the strain. With one final flick of his tongue, he took as much of her as he could into his mouth and sucked until she couldn’t keep herself from crying out in pleasure. She felt the wave of ecstasy ripple through her body as he slowed his movements to a stop, his hands still massaging their way around her body. Her knees were weak and her legs were shaking, but she still wanted more of him.

Halsin looked up at her, wiping his mouth on the back of his arm. He stood up slowly and pressed his body back against hers. As if he had read her mind, he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“More?” He asked, slightly out of breath.

Tav bit her lower lip in response and drew him in for a kiss, still able to taste her own arousal on his lips. She pulled him down to the ground on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He held her there for a moment, staring into her eyes. One of his hands came up to cradle her face, gently caressing her cheek. She smiled back up at him, wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

He took the opportunity to slowly lower himself on to her, pressing his cock against her, but not entering her yet. Her hips instinctively moved up to meet him as he grinded around her folds, but it wasn’t enough. She moved one of her hands down to grip around him and started stroking up and down, holding him against her. He let out a surprised moan against her lips.

“I need more of you, Halsin.” She breathed the words into his ear.

“As you wish, my heart.” He replied in a low whisper.

Halsin let her guide him towards her entrance, hovering his tip just outside. Still holding on to his cock, she circled his tip around her, letting her wetness cover him. The movement earned her another low moan from him as he slowly lowered himself into her. They each let out a long sigh at the feeling. She let go of him to bring her hand back up into his hair, holding his head in place against hers. Slowly he filled her, pressing his entire length into her body. He paused for a moment and let her adjust to the sensation, she could feel him throbbing inside of her.

“You feel incredible, my love.” He whispered into her ear.

His words sent a shiver through her body, causing her to arch her back up towards him. Halsin placed one hand on the ground by her head to steady himself as he began to slowly thrust himself in and out of her. His other hand moved down to rub her clit at the same time. Tav closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting her hips move in time with his. His thrusts started to get harder and deeper, the combination of pleasure from both his cock and his fingers threatening to send Tav over the edge. Her hands gripped his thighs, silently begging him to go deeper each time. Both of their moans and cries seemed to get louder each time he pushed back into her. Her legs were shaking again, one of her hands shot back up to Halsin’s face to pull him down and kiss him deeply. He quickened his pace even more, drawing quick shallow breaths through his nose as the kiss muffled their moans. Tav couldn’t hold on any longer, she threw both of her arms around him and pulled him as tight against her as she could. She cried out, burying her face in his neck. Waves of pleasure washed over her body, she could feel herself involuntarily spasming around him as he took his last few thrusts to find his own release. He collapsed on top of her, the weight of his body helping to subdue her shaking muscles. She could feel him pulsing inside of her, squeezing every last drop from himself in his final few thrusts. They laid there tangled together for a moment, both breathing heavily.

Tav had no other thoughts in her mind except for the relief she felt here in Halsin’s arms. The pressure of leadership gone, the guilt that soured her fantasies had vanished, all of the doubt she had felt over the past few days nowhere to be found.

Slowly, Halsin rolled to the side, propping himself up on one arm to face her. She traced the lines along the muscles of his torso, wiping away the small beads of sweat that had formed. The night breeze helped cool her warm, flushed skin. He pulled her close, pressing her hands against his chest and her head to the side of his neck. She lazily kissed along his neck and shoulder, listening to the small sighs they elicited from him. His hands softly stroked her back, wiping away some of the dirt and leaves that had stuck to her.

“Maybe next time we should bring a bedroll. Or better yet find a bed somewhere.” She murmured against him.

“The comforts offered by that type of furniture are not something I’m accustomed to.” He chuckled. “But by all means, if you find a piece up to the challenge, please let me know right away.”

She snuggled closer to him, listening to his heartbeat and soft breaths. After a few moments he pulled her up with him and led her towards the water.

“At least let me clean you up before we make our way back to camp.” He offered with a smile.

They waded into the river; the water was cool but not uncomfortable. Halsin moved out far enough where they could sit comfortably in the water, coming up almost to Tav’s shoulders as he pulled her onto his lap. He used his hands to gently pour water over her back and arms, rinsing away the dirt stuck to her. She leaned forward and kissed him softly, holding his face in her hands.

“Maybe we don’t have to go back just yet.” She whispered.

“Oh?” He was smiling back up at her, still slowly caressing her back.

“The night’s still young…and I seem to recall you promising that I wouldn’t get much rest.” Tav’s heart was racing again, her mind blurred with lust and longing for him. She wanted more of him, she needed to feel him against her for longer.

Halsin suddenly gripped her back, pulling her body tight against him. He pressed his lips right up against her to whisper in her ear.

“Well, I cannot allow you to go to bed disappointed, my heart.”

Tav couldn’t help but let out an excited laugh as he picked her up and waded out further into the water, eager to feel Halsin’s loving touch long into the night. And for many more nights to come.

#this fic was pretty fun to write #I just need all the halsin content #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #bg3 tav #halsin silverbough #astarion x tav #halsin x tav #halsin smut #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcanons #bg3 brainrot #bg3 fluff #bg3 smut #the tadfools

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