#or is just is in extreme proximity to this loss

[andromeddog]

malarkey (and a bit of skip)

[starryhyuck]

pairing: slytherin!jaemin x afab!ravenclaw!reader

words: 10.3k+

summary: na jaemin has asked you out every year since you came to hogwarts. maybe this is the year you’ll say yes.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: reader is shy, slight corruption kink, penetrative sex, loss of virginity, voyeurism, fingering, cunnilingus, public sex, squirting, creampies, messy sex

You’re in your first year at Hogwarts when Na Jaemin asks you out for the first time.

The both of you are standing in the middle of the courtyard and his ears are blooming red, either from the cold or pure embarrassment. He’s holding a chocolate frog, outstretching his hand to you.

“I think you’re pretty.”

You try to ignore the fact that your friends are squealing behind you. Your eyes are only focused on Jaemin, who’s wearing his signature smile. His best friends, Jeno and Donghyuck, are snickering behind him.

You know you want to tell the Slytherin that he’s pretty too, or at least thank him for the gift, but somehow your brain completely short circuits.

Your eleven-year-old self runs away from the group and back into the Hogwarts castle, breaking Na Jaemin’s heart for the first time.

—

You’re in your second year when Na Jaemin asks you out for the second time.

Your rejection of Jaemin the previous year spread around school like wildfire. Many of your friends asked you why you turned him down, especially when he was one of the most desired boys in your year. You didn’t know how to explain that he made you extremely nervous and his declaration of affection caused you to hate the attention you started receiving.

“Jaemin’s looking at you,” Doyeon giggles in your ear.

Your eyes wander up from your Potions book to see that, indeed, Jaemin is sitting at one of the library tables across the room, focus directed at you. You swallow and return your gaze to your textbook.

“Don’t you want to ask him why he’s staring at you?” Doyeon whines at your lack of enthusiasm. “He clearly still likes you!”

The librarian shushes your table and Doyeon sticks her tongue out when they’re not looking.

You sigh. “I just want to finish my Potions essay, Doyeon.”

You can practically see her roll her eyes in response. Jaemin has tried talking to you since the incident, jumping at any chance to partner with you during your classes together. You’ve only offered him rapid blinks and slow nods in return.

You groan when Doyeon suddenly elbows your side.

“Go and get me the book we need for Charms, please.”

“What? Why can’t you get it?” You frown, eyebrows furrowed.

She sighs as if you’re the one causing a problem. She gives you one of her signature looks and you grumble, pulling yourself away from the table. When you finally find the aisle you’re looking for, you nearly gasp when you see Jaemin there too.

Oh Doyeon, you sneaky witch.

He says your name like you’ve just caught the Golden Snitch. “Nice to see you!”

You smile awkwardly, ignoring the butterflies swarming your stomach.

“Hi, Nana.”

He beams when you call him by his nickname. You falter at his clear enthusiasm. You wish you were just slightly more brave to carry a conversation with him, but you resort to clumsily searching for Doyeon’s book. You sigh when you realize it’s on the top shelf.

Before you can attempt to grab it, you feel Jaemin’s chest press against your back as he easily takes it for you. You yelp at the proximity, ignoring his cheerful smile as he hands the book over to you.

“Looking for this?”

You try your best to steady your voice. “Um, yes?”

He chuckles. “You don’t sound so sure about it.”

Despite the book being safely in your hands, he shows no signs of stepping away from you. You avoid any eye contact you could possibly make with him.

“I should get back to my table,” you whisper softly. “Doyeon probably wants to get started on her Charms homework.”

“Meet me at the Astronomy Tower tonight?”

You blink at Jaemin’s question. He’s still smiling happily, fully expecting you to say yes.

“Um, I have a lot of work to get done tonight. Potions essay and all of that.”

“Oh,” he murmurs bashfully, scratching the back of his neck and taking a step away from you. “That’s okay. Some other night then?”

“Okay!” You squeak, taking your chance and scurrying away from him. Your abrupt departure prevents you from seeing the hopeful look in his eyes.

When you return to your table, Doyeon is smirking mischievously.

“You sure took a long time getting that book.”

“I hate you.”

—

You’re in your third year when Na Jaemin asks you out for the third time.

“Dude, she’s not going out with you. It’s starting to look super desperate.”

Jeno has to physically prevent Jaemin from lunging across the Great Hall table and attacking Donghyuck.

“Hyuck,” Renjun scolds from his spot next to Jeno. “You know Jaemin’s sensitive about it.”

“Whatever,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “All I’m saying is that everyone knows you like her, and if she liked you, then moves would have already been made.”

“You don’t know anything,” Jaemin hisses. “She’s just shy, that’s all. She doesn’t like the attention.”

Jeno glares at Donghyuck as a signal for him to shut up. Renjun even shoves a spoonful of chicken into Donghyuck’s mouth to make sure of it.

Jaemin’s focus returns to you as you’re giggling into your hand at something Yoo Jimin says. He fondly smiles at the sight of you looking so happy from across the Great Hall. He wishes you would look that happy whenever you see him too.

His attempts at getting you to agree to a date has been less than successful to say the least. Donghyuck was right — everyone in the Wizarding World knew of Jaemin’s crush at this point, but you still showed no signs of returning his affections.

“I’m not saying Donghyuck’s right or anything,” Renjun timidly brings up, earning a warning look from Jeno. “But maybe you should try crushing on someone else. Who knows? Maybe she’ll get jealous.”

Jaemin scoffs at the idea. As if he could like anyone else but you. It sounded unbelievably pathetic, but you were all he thought about. He wanted nothing but to hold your hand and kiss you in front of everyone.

Even if it made him the running joke to the rest of the houses, he didn’t care. He only desired you.

His blood boils when he sees Shotaro approach your table, cheeks red as he asks to sit down next to you.

“What the hell is he doing?” Jaemin hisses.

Jeno coughs awkwardly. “I heard from Sungchan that Shotaro has a little crush.”

“What?” Jaemin practically yells, causing the rest of his house to shush him.

“Alright, let’s be calm about this,” Jeno says, knowing how irritated his best friend could get. “Jaemin-“

Jeno’s protests are ignored as Jaemin makes his way over to your table. Jeno runs a hand down his face, praying that Jaemin doesn’t make a complete fool out of himself.

You nearly jump out of your seat when you hear your name being called. You glance behind you to see Jaemin.

“O-Oh,” you stutter, not expecting his presence. You fail to notice Shotaro’s shoulders slump in defeat at the sight of the Slytherin. “Hi Nana.”

You pay no attention to Doyeon and Jimin’s raised eyebrows from their positions across from you. Jaemin forces his hands between you and Shotaro, creating enough distance for him to sit in the middle.

“What are we talking about over here?”

Doyeon and Jimin exchange a look before Doyeon speaks up. “Shotaro over here was just talking about going to Hogsmeade this weekend.”

“Oh? I didn’t even know Hufflepuffs went outside,” Jaemin hums. Doyeon and Jimin cover up their laughs with a cough.

“Hogsmeade trips are for all students,” you mention quietly.

Jaemin smiles at you. “That’s right! I was actually thinking about going to Madam Puddifoot’s, want to join?”

Every student knows that Madam Puddifoot’s is where all the couples go on dates. Since this is the first year you’re allowed to take weekend Hogsmeade trips, you haven’t gotten a chance to see it for yourself. However, the thought of going with Jaemin seemed way too nerve wracking.

“She would love to!” Jimin interjects, shooting you a look.

“Actually, I was going to ask her if she wanted to go with me,” Shotaro says, glaring at Jaemin.

The two boys suddenly engage in a heated staring contest, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Doyeon and Jimin, on the other hand, are thoroughly enjoying watching the current scene unfold.

“Maybe we can all go!” You say in an attempt to ease the tension.

Doyeon’s head hits the table in reaction to your stupidity. Jaemin and Shotaro turn to you with confused looks on their faces. Jimin decides to help you out.

“Actually, I just remembered we promised Minjeong we would meet her at Honeydukes to grab some sweets. Sorry boys, maybe next time.”

You squeak when Doyeon suddenly grabs your arm, and before you know it, you’re being pulled away from the table.

Once you’re out of sight, Jaemin turns to scowl at the Hufflepuff.

“Don’t even think about it. Everyone knows I like her.”

Shotaro scoffs. “Just because you like her doesn’t mean she likes you.”

“Watch it, Hufflepuff.”

“Game on, Slytherin.”

A few minutes of intense glaring occurs until Jeno and Sungchan both rush over to the table, pulling the two boys apart.

—

You’re in your fourth year when Na Jaemin asks you out for the fourth time.

The only difference this year is that you already have a boyfriend. You’ve been dating Shotaro for a couple of months, and everything seems to be going well.

The only bump in the road so far was your friends.

“Listen, I’m just saying that Shotaro is really sweet and nice, but you clearly took the easy way out,” Doyeon complains. “I know that deep down, you like Jaemin more.”

“Doyeon, I really don’t want to hear this again,” you sigh, trying your best to focus on your History of Magic homework.

Doyeon and Jimin brought Jaemin up at least once a week. Ever since you started dating Shotaro, Jaemin took a hint and spent less and less time trying to get your attention. You still noticed his lingering stares here and there, but Shotaro would always try to initiate skinship with you just to remind Jaemin who you were dating.

“What are we talking about?” Jimin asks, plopping down on the couch in the Ravenclaw common room.

“How Jaemin is better than Shotaro,” Doyeon responds.

You frown. “You know, Slytherins aren’t even allowed in here.”

The two Slytherins ignore your protests. “Oh, Jaemin is so much better,” Jimin echoes. “I think she just likes Shotaro because he’s quiet and shy like her. But Jaemin would show her a much better time.”

“Jimin!” You hiss, growing embarrassed by the second. “Can we not talk about this please? I’m dating Shotaro and I really like him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You try not to let their words get to you since you know Doyeon and Jimin love to tease you. The thought of Jaemin still lingers in your mind, however, and Shotaro starts to notice you distancing yourself a week later.

“Are you okay?” He asks apprehensively, almost afraid of hearing the answer. “You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m fine!” You try to assure him, ignoring the worried look in his eyes. “I’m just stressed with homework, that’s all.”

He smiles and you can’t help but compare it to Jaemin. Jaemin’s smile is a little brighter and more captivating, always causing your brain to malfunction whenever he grins at you.

“You don’t need to worry. You’re the smartest girl in our year,” Shotaro assures.

You laugh nervously. “Thank you.”

A few moments pass while the two of you are walking down the hallway before Shotaro clears his throat. He seems even more anxious than you.

“Did you hear about the dance they’re hosting this year?”

“Oh,” you hum, thinking about it. You remember Doyeon excitedly chattering the details to you, talking animatedly about what kind of dress she plans on wearing and how she’s going to style her hair. Jimin was equally excited, attempting to also raise your enthusiasm about the event. “Doyeon and Jimin have been mentioning it to me.”

He beams. “Good! I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

You sheepishly stutter. You were honestly planning on skipping the dance in favor of getting a good night’s sleep. Although knowing Doyeon and Jimin, they would never let you ditch.

“S-Sure. That sounds nice.”

Shotaro’s smile extends tenfold, and he leans down to press a kiss against your cheek. You bashfully stare at your feet, avoiding his gaze.

When you relay the information to the two girls later, they’re so excited you agreed to go to the dance that they don’t even mention Jaemin. They eagerly discuss shopping plans and hair and makeup expectations, all while you panic on the inside.

They help you pick out a gorgeous blue gown that hugs your figure, which initially makes you nervous but with a lot of assurances from Doyeon and Jimin, you grow confident in your appearance. The girls do your hair and makeup for you, giggling about how cute you’re going to look.

“If only it was for Jaemin,” Jimin hums while applying your eyeshadow.

“Hey,” you protest softly. “You said you were happy that Shotaro asked me.”

“I am!” She argues. “It’s just that I know Jaemin really likes this color on you.”

“Is that why you picked this out for me?”

When the both of them fail to answer your question, you huff. Your curiosity gets the best of you, however.

“Is Jaemin going with anyone?”

You miss the look Doyeon and Jimin exchange over your head. “I heard he asked out Yizhuo,” Jimin answers.

“Oh,” you mumble. Yizhuo was a Slytherin girl in the same classes as both you and Jaemin, so it would make sense that he asked her. You remember her being very pretty and sweet whenever you got paired for projects together.

Doyeon smiles, sensing your disappointment even though you would never admit it. She presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Just have a good time tonight, my little flower.”

“You know I’m the same age as the both of you. You don’t have to keep acting like my moms.”

You giggle when they suddenly shower you in kisses as a response.

Shotaro perks up when you finally meet him outside of the Great Hall. He’s wearing a blue tie to match your dress, and he kisses the back of your hand in greeting.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments.

“Thank you,” you manage to whisper, feeling bashful by the attention.

Some of the other houses are stopping to look at you two, murmuring to each other and making you even more nervous. Your breath catches in your throat when you meet Jaemin’s eyes across the room. He’s smiling fondly at you, his emerald green tie matching Yizhuo’s dress.

Your heart sinks a little at the sight of them looking like a perfect pair standing next to one another. Shotaro nudges you out of your trance.

“Ready to go in?”

You nod, mustering your best smile. “Born ready.”

The night, by all means, was a picture perfect fairytale. Shotaro was a perfect gentleman as he led you on the dance floor, with you feeling slightly inferior to his incredible dance skills. You exchanged a few fun twirls with Doyeon and Jimin, giggling to one another in the midst of all the sparkle and flair. Your eyes only strayed a few times to catch the sight of a certain Slytherin boy dancing with his date.

It forces you to excuse yourself to catch your breath. Shotaro offers to go with you but you insist on him staying inside and enjoying himself.

Jaemin later finds you in the Astronomy Tower, overlooking the stars.

He clears his throat to make you aware of his presence, causing you to jump at the sound.

“Sorry,” he apologizes with a chuckle, taking the spot next to you. “I didn’t know I would catch you out here.”

“I just needed a breather,” you murmur, ignoring the fact that his arm is nearly pressed against yours. “It was getting a little stuffy in there.”

“Your boyfriend didn’t want to escort you out?”

If you notice an implication in Jaemin’s tone, you make no show of it.

“No, I told him to stay. He’s a great dancer, I don’t know if you’ve seen it.”

“Oh, I’ve seen it,” he says under his breath, almost with a hint of jealousy.

You two linger in silence for a bit before he breaks it.

“It would be wildly inappropriate for me to ask you out at this moment, right?”

You blink at him, startled by the sudden question.

“I thought you came with Yizhuo?”

“Yizhuo and I are just friends,” he brushes off. “She didn’t have a date and the girl I wanted had a date of her own already.”

He eyes you carefully and you flush in embarrassment, staring down at your hands.

“Jaemin, you know Shotaro is my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, that’s unfortunate, isn’t it?”

“Nana,” you whisper, hoping the nickname will convey exactly what you want to say. To tell him that despite your conflicting feelings, you’re still dating Shotaro and don’t want to hurt him in any way.

He nods in understanding before preparing to take his leave. “Before I go, I just wanted you to know you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You took my breath away when I saw you. Shotaro’s a lucky guy and I hope he knows it.”

You watch pitifully as Jaemin heads back to the dance, ignoring the sound of your heart thumping in your ears.

—

You’re in your fifth year when Na Jaemin’s attempts start to falter for the first time.

You and Shotaro ended your relationship on good terms over the summer, agreeing that the both of you were better off as friends after holding hands started feeling too awkward. When Doyeon and Jimin found out about the amicable breakup, they were quick to get you back on your feet once you voiced your insecurities.

“Maybe it was me? Am I not pretty enough to kiss?”

They both frown, looking more disappointed than you’ve ever seen them.

“You are the prettiest girl at Hogwarts, so I have no idea where this is coming from,” Doyeon shakes her head, combing her fingers through your hair.

You’re sprawled on the floor of their shared bedroom after Jimin found a way to sneak you into the Slytherin dorms.

“You said it yourself that Shotaro and you broke up because it was too awkward. He never told you that you weren’t pretty enough to kiss,” Jimin reminds you.

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “But we just never did what normal couples do, you know? It made me start to think that it was because of me.”

“It could never be because of you,” Doyeon chides. “Besides, if you want to get kissed that bad, I know someone who would be first in line for that chance.”

It rattles you when you automatically know who she’s referring to.

“I heard he got a girlfriend over the summer,” you say quietly.

Jimin scoffs. “You heard wrong. I told you to only get gossip from me, I’m a reliable source. I’ve heard absolutely nothing about said girlfriend.”

The three of you are thoroughly surprised when you catch Jaemin the next day, hand in hand with Hyojung, a fellow Ravenclaw girl.

Jimin curses under her breath and Doyeon scolds her for not being the first one to know this new information. As the couple walk down the hallway, Jaemin’s eyes lock with yours. You both still, almost as if time has stopped in its tracks.

He’s the first one to break it, with Hyojung tugging on his arm and questioning why he suddenly stopped in the middle of the crowd. Your eyes well with tears before you stray from Doyeon and Jimin, finding an empty classroom to wallow your sorrows in.

Why were you so sad? It’s not like you had anything romantic in line for you and Jaemin. After all, you were the one who’s been rejecting him since you first stepped foot in Hogwarts.

You decide to ignore your muddled feelings for most of the first half of the year. Jaemin and Hyojung seem to be going strong and despite Jimin’s endless apologies, you insist that you’re happy for the couple and wish them all the best.

You get paired with Jeno for a Charms project as the winter season approaches. Jeno proves to be a diligent partner, equally dividing work and quietly finishing your portions of the project in the library together.

The question itches at the back of your mind one night, and you can’t stop yourself from asking.

“Jeno, how did Jaemin and Hyojung get together?”

He’s surprised by the inquiry, head tilted in confusion. “Well, their parents are friends and they used to be close when they were younger. They decided to give the relationship a try over the summer to see if it fits.”

You nod and thank him for answering. An hour passes in silence before he bites back.

“Why do you ask?”

You chew on the end of your pencil nervously. “I was curious. They just seemed to get together out of the blue.”

He studies your expression carefully. “You broke up with Shotaro over the summer, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” you reply awkwardly. “We decided it wasn’t a good fit for us.”

He hums in understanding.

The two of you finish your homework session without any more probing questions, and Jeno is fast to locate his Slytherin best friend afterwards.

Jaemin is startled when Jeno almost runs him over outside of the Slytherin dorms.

“What’s up with you?”

Jeno huffs, out of breath from rushing all around Hogwarts in search of him.

“Things with you and Hyojung — they’re not serious, right?”

Jaemin shrugs. “She’s pretty and nice. It’s not a bad relationship.”

“But it’s not a really good one either?”

“I mean, I guess so. Why are you asking?”

“A certain Ravenclaw girl just asked me about you,” Jeno divulges. “She asked me about you, Jaemin. You were far from any topic of conversation and she was the one to bring you up first.”

Jaemin freezes at the revelation. He spent the whole summer trying to forget about you, accepting that you were happy with Shotaro and perhaps Donghyuck was right, he was starting to look pathetic chasing after you. Hyojung’s family came to visit one day in August and after seeing how heartbroken he was, she suggested they begin a relationship to try and get him to move on. He agreed, mainly because his parents always loved Hyojung and he needed to get his mind off of you.

As twisted as it sounds though, Hyojung could never compare to you.

He doesn’t understand why you’ve enraptured him like this, it was just supposed to be a silly crush. He never expected to see flickers of you when he would kiss his girlfriend or think of your laugh when he’s holding someone else’s hand.

He shakes his head from the thought.

“Jeno, I can’t. You know I spent so much time getting over her.”

His friend rolls his eyes. “And how did that work out? You still look like a love struck puppy whenever she walks by and Hyojung is still convinced she can get you to love her. Wake up, dude.”

Jaemin presses the palm of his hands to his eyes, desperately trying to erase the fantasies floating through his head.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I thought I already spelled it out for you. Free Hyojung from her misery and get your girl.”

When Jaemin approaches Hyojung the next day, his heart sinks in his chest as he registers the devastated look on her face.

“What? What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” he assures her. “I just don’t think this is working out. I haven’t been feeling any sparks.”

Her eyes well with tears and Jaemin starts to feel guilty.

“Is this about her? Are you seriously still not over her? We’ve been together for nearly five months, Jaemin!” Her sadness quickly shifts to unadulterated rage, glaring at him and hoping he’ll sink into the ground. “How could you lead me on this whole time?”

“I wasn’t trying to, Hyojung, I swear,” he promises, but they’re clearly empty to the girl in front of him.

“Go fuck yourself, Na Jaemin.”

You find Hyojung crying in the Ravenclaw common room that day. You pause when you see her crumbling on the couch with her best friend, Soeun, comforting her. They scowl when you come into their view.

“There she is, the homewrecker herself,” Soeun sneers at you.

You have no idea why the two girls are suddenly bashing on you. You hold your arms closer to your chest defensively.

“W-What?”

Hyojung stands and approaches you until she’s inches from your face.

“I don’t know why he finds you so special. You’ve never once given him the time of day yet he’ll bend over backwards to have you,” she hisses, expecting the words to sting for you.

You blink. “Who are you talking about?”

She laughs and it’s one of those hollow, maniacal laughs that sends shivers down your spine.

Soeun joins in, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at you condescendingly. “We’re not falling for your little innocent schoolgirl act. You know Jaemin and Hyojung’s parents were already planning their wedding, right? How sick of you to insert yourself into a relationship and break it apart.”

The two girls continue to berate and belittle you until the whole of Ravenclaw is convinced you’re a nasty homewrecker. You leave the common room in tears, finding solace in one of the nearby alcoves.

That’s how Jaemin finds you — sobbing into your hands and feeling the most low you’ve ever felt in your entire Hogwarts stay.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He tries to pry your hands away from your eyes to talk to you, but you pull away from him like you’ve just been burned.

“Get away from me!” You demand, turning away from him and sniffling softly to yourself.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice filled with distress. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to know why you’re crying, and if I can help at all.”

You spin back around to face him. Jaemin’s heart cracks at the sight of you looking so defeated.

“Why would you break up with Hyojung because of me?” You question in a small voice, trying to stop your tears.

He stutters. “I-I didn’t break up with her because of that. The relationship never felt right.”

“Well, that’s not what she’s saying. I don’t understand why you’re so intent on ruining my life, Nana.”

“What? I would never ruin your life!”

“But you have!” You cry, not caring how unattractive you are at this moment. “You give me all this attention that I never asked for as soon as I get to Hogwarts, and suddenly everyone is referring to me as the girl who rejected Na Jaemin. Then I get a boyfriend and you’re lurking around every corner, praying for me to break up with him. And then you get a girlfriend, crush her heart, and now she’s accusing me of being a homewrecker!”

Realization washes over his features and he takes a step back from you.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, this is all my fault. I’ll clear up whatever Hyojung started and I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry.”

You watch him disappear around the corner, throwing you one last sorrowful glance.

After you relay the day’s events while crying in Doyeon and Jimin’s arms, you wonder if you would ever speak to Jaemin again.

—

You’re in your sixth year when you haven’t spoken to Na Jaemin since the start of the term.

Hyojung approaches you when you return from the summer break, guilt-ridden by her behavior.

“I’m so sorry for saying all of those things about you. It was really immature of me to start those rumors, especially knowing that it was Jaemin’s fault, not yours. I was just angry and looking for someone to blame. I hope you can forgive me.”

You smile shyly and nod. “Thank you for apologizing. I’m sorry again for what you had to go through.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to say that to me. I’m going to clear up all those nasty things people are saying about the situation so please, let’s just try to move past it.”

The first few months of the term pass by quickly, with all of the rumors about you being squashed by both Hyojung and Jaemin. Soon enough, people are finding new gossip to discuss and your incident fades into the background.

You try to accept that you’ll never speak to Jaemin again. He’s completely turned into a ghost of the person you once knew. He no longer smiles whenever people call his name in the hallway or jokes around with Jeno and Donghyuck in the Great Hall.

He becomes a true, stereotypical Slytherin — emotionless and disinterested.

It concerns you, honestly. However, your friends have ruled it to be none of your business.

“But he’s just so lifeless! I just want to make sure he’s doing okay.”

Doyeon waves a finger at you like a mother scolding her disobedient toddler. “He should be the furthest thing from your mind. You need to be focused more on your studies and less on boys.”

You really start to feel like a rebellious teenager when Jimin places her hands on your shoulders and pushes you down to sit on the edge of her bed.

“One day, you’re going to grow up and realize we are just trying to do what’s best for you,” she clicks her tongue.

You frown. “It wasn’t even a year ago when you two were encouraging me to come out of my shell and date Jaemin!”

“Yes, and that was before he made you cry and got the whole school to believe you were trying to break relationships left and right,” Doyeon says, arms flailing about. “We don’t trust him like we used to.”

“Turns out he really was just a man,” Jimin sighs, shaking her head.

Despite their disapproval, you search for Jaemin that night to try and open a civil conversation with him. You want him to know that you don’t blame him for what occurred the previous year and it would be best for you both to try and move on.

You’re about to turn the corner to the Slytherin dorms when you hear a sharp gasp.

You shield yourself behind a pillar, eyes peeking out to identify the cause of the sound. You nearly choke when you see Jaemin has Lee Seojeong pressed up against the wall, his fingers hidden underneath her skirt.

Jaemin hisses lowly. “Keep quiet. You said you would.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers in apology. Her sorrows soon turn into cries of lust, gripping Jaemin’s shoulder tightly.

You’re frozen in your spot, unsure of what to do. Your heart is thumping wildly in your ears and you’re ashamed to admit the arousal pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You can see Seojeong is finding it harder and harder to muffle her cries and just before she reaches her high, Jaemin’s eyes suddenly flicker over to zero in on you.

Surprise fills his features as much as it does yours, and you both ignore that Seojeong has already tipped over the edge. Jaemin withdraws his fingers from her, still staring intensely at you.

Mortified by getting caught, you quickly turn and run back to Doyeon and Jimin’s room, praying the world will swallow you whole.

Much to your chagrin, the world is not on your side.

The next day, your Charms professor announces a class project, sharing that he’s already paired up the class. And, of course, you find yourself with the Slytherin boy you’re trying your best to avoid. You’re incredibly embarrassed when Jaemin approaches your desk.

“Um,” you say bashfully, trying your best to not look at him. The burn of his stare from the previous night is still ingrained in the back of your mind. “I think we should divide the work evenly. I can start researching the history while you can look into the process of casting the charm.”

Jaemin, on the other hand, is enjoying watching you squirm. Ever since last year’s incident, he’s built up a few walls to shield himself from the lingering stories in the Hogwarts castle. He blames himself for causing you so much heartbreak and promised at the start of sixth year that he wouldn’t let people in as easily as he used to. He really only talks to Jeno and Donghyuck now, ignoring the rest of his classmates who are probably only using him as fodder to feed the lurking gossip.

As for Seojeong, she’s one of the many girls he’s been hooking up with to take his mind off of you. He accidentally slipped up a few months ago when he said your name in the midst of his release with another girl, encouraging even more people to whisper about you and him. Luckily, he shut it down before word ever got to you. He’s been a lot more careful with his restraint since then.

He never expected to meet your gaze while he was fingering Seojeong outside of the Slytherin dorms.

And he won’t lie if someone asked him if he has fantasized about your curious eyes watching him pleasure someone else before.

“That sounds fair.”

You nod at his short response, still refusing to meet his stare. You quickly gather your books in your arms.

“I-I’ll meet you at the end of the week to discuss what I find then.”

You don’t tell Doyeon or Jimin what happened that night. They question you when you return to their dorm a little frazzled and panicked, but you say that you simply saw a bug in the hallway that creeped you out.

They buy your excuse then, but grow increasingly more suspicious when you continue to act on edge for the rest of the week.

“Alright, what in Merlin is going on with you? You heard a chair squeak and I swear you jumped out of your skin,” Doyeon says, eyes narrowed at you.

Jimin leans forward on the library table to get a closer look at your flushed expression.

“N-Nothing!” You stutter, fingers rolling through the fabric of your skirt nervously. “I’m just- um, I’m just-“

They watch you flounder, eyebrows raised as you struggle to find the right words.

“Could I ask you both a question? And you have to promise that you won’t ask me any follow-up questions in return.”

Doyeon and Jimin exchange a glance before nodding hesitantly.

“Go ahead.”

You take a deep breath. “Have you two ever, you know, been with someone? Like on an intimate level?”

A moment of silence passes before questions erupt from the two.

“Is someone trying to pressure you into having sex?”

“Oh Merlin, do we have to go and kill someone? Who’s trying to put their hands on you?”

You swiftly shush them, turning your head to check if anyone in the library is eavesdropping in on you.

“You promised,” you whine.

They sigh, clearly stressed from the idea of you being pressured into anything.

Jimin speaks first. “Yes, I have. It was awkward and not that fun, if I’m being honest.”

Doyeon hums in agreement. “Definitely more pleasurable for the guy than the girl most of the time.”

“Okay,” you drawl, trying to figure out how to ask them what you’re really wondering. “So it was a one time thing? You weren’t in a relationship with them?”

They nod. You huff, pondering over the idea. You would never admit your jealousy, but the image of Jaemin pleasuring Seojeong chilled you to your core. Your mind has been swirling with frenzied thoughts all week — were they dating now? When did Jaemin suddenly start fingering girls in public? Did this mean he really wanted nothing to do with you anymore? And lastly, how did you fall so far behind your classmates sexually?

A tap on your shoulder takes you out of your trance. Doyeon and Jimin’s expressions have suddenly turned stern, lips pursed at whoever has approached your table.

“Hey, you ready to discuss our project?”

Your eyes flit up to catch the boy that has been haunting your dreams. Jaemin’s fingers brush through his hair casually, and you speculate if he knows how attractive he looks.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you reply nervously, taking your notebook and standing to walk with him.

Doyeon says your name with fervor before you can leave. “Maybe one of us should go with you. Or you can talk about your project here.”

You don’t miss her implication and the fact that the former topic of conversation has them theorizing that Jaemin is the one bringing your sexual awakening to light.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Jaemin answers for you, ignoring their glares and escorting you to another table towards the back of the library.

You avoid his gaze as much as possible when you sit down, opening your notebook and immediately diving into the details of the Bubble-Head Charm.

“The charm can be dated back for centuries, and many wizards believe it was created to help them swim underwater-“

“Did you enjoy the show?”

His sudden question brings you out of your notes, and for the first time in a week, you take a look at him.

He’s studying you fiercely, eyes piercing into the depths of your soul.

“What show?” You ask in confusion, not understanding how this could possibly be related to your project.

“I don’t usually like an audience when I’m trying to help someone on the brink of their climax,” he says unabashedly. Your breath catches in your throat. “I find that I don’t mind it when it’s you though.”

“I think we should focus on the project, Nana,” you whisper, not realizing how easily the nickname has slipped from your lips.

“You’re still going to call me that?” He asks, eyes unexpectedly clouded with fury. “Still going to act like the innocent girl when you played the little voyeur for me?”

“Jaemin,” you say quietly, your body flaring with an equal weight of lust and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on you and Seojeong.”

He scoffs. “You think I care about her? I bet you pictured yourself in her place, hm? Begging for me to help you cum, looking so desperate for me in a public space,” he laughs, keeping his voice low for only you to hear his crude words. He drinks in your appalled expression. “What? Do you miss when I was the nice boy for you, helping you grab a book when you couldn’t reach it on your own? Chasing after you with my tail tucked between my legs?”

He moves his chair until he’s seated right beside you, hand resting on the inside of your thigh. You jolt at the contact, praying he doesn’t discover your wetness soaking through your panties.

“Or do you like it better when I’m straightforward like this? Telling you exactly how I want you?”

His face is inches from yours, and you can feel his breath hitting your cheek. If you move just a little closer, you could probably kiss him-

Another hand suddenly grabs your elbow, pulling you away from Jaemin’s hold.

“Get away from her!” Jimin growls while Doyeon starts to collect your things, shoving it in your bag hurriedly.

“Don’t even think about touching her again.”

Your friends whisk you away from the table, leaving Jaemin with a raging hard-on and eyes full of determination.

—

You’re in your seventh year when you desperately want Na Jaemin to kiss you.

The tables have turned quite exceptionally. Contrary to previous years, you find yourself pursuing the Slytherin boy.

After last year’s encounter in the library, you convinced Doyeon and Jimin that Jaemin’s advances were wanted by you. You had to sit them down and explain to them that yes, your questions about sex were Jaemin-related and no, they did not have to act like your moms all the time. They still held their reservations when it came to Jaemin and you, and you couldn’t blame them. Your history together was confusing to say the least, but now you could actually say you were starting to recognize the feelings you had for him.

The only problem was that Jaemin seemed to lose all interest in you.

Jimin relayed to you the information about Jaemin ceasing all communication with the girls he normally hooked up with, which you took as a good sign, but was disappointed when he made no advances to contact you again.

You failed your Charms project with him because you two couldn’t find the courage to approach one another to resume the study. Instead, you threw heart eye glances to him for the rest of the term, which he easily ignored.

You shyly approach Jeno and Donghyuck on the first day of seventh year.

“I’m sorry, what? Did you just say that you like Jaemin?”

Donghyuck is incredulous, rubbing his eyes and hitting his ears to make sure he’s seeing and hearing you correctly.

Beside him, Jeno simply smirks in understanding. “I was wondering when you’d finally admit it.”

You cower underneath their stares. “I was just going to ask if either of you know if Jaemin likes me too. I don’t think he does anymore so I want to get confirmation.”

Donghyuck laughs. “Are you kidding me? The kid moans your name in his sleep so I think it’s safe to say-“

He yelps when Jeno pinches his side, glaring at him.

“What this idiot is trying to say is that yes, Jaemin likes you. He’s only liked you since we arrived at Hogwarts and we fear he’ll only like you until he dies. I don’t know why you would think otherwise,” Jeno hums, eyebrow raised in questioning.

“Well,” you drone, twiddling your thumbs nervously. “He hasn’t talked to me at all since last year and he doesn’t treat me like he used to. He’s completely iced me out.”

Donghyuck laughs again. “Doubt that. Remember just yesterday when he accidentally said her name when he was talking to Minjeong?”

Jeno pinches his side once more and Donghyuck whines painfully in exaggeration.

“Again, what this idiot is trying to say is that maybe Jaemin is waiting for you to make the first move. He’s made his intentions pretty clear, you know, so I think the ball’s in your court.”

You ponder over Jeno’s words all week, eyes drifting to Jaemin’s figure more than you would possibly admit during classes. Doyeon and Jimin speak the Gryffindor bravery into you as you proceed towards his table in the library — the same table he cornered you at last year.

“Hi,” you squeak, fingers gripping your books to your chest for dear life.

He looks up at you, facial expression remaining neutral.

“Hi.”

“Can I- um, can I sit here?”

He nods and you take the seat beside him. Your whole body is nearly shaking from anxiety but you push through it.

“I wanted to talk to you because- well, I talked to Jeno and Donghyuck and they made me realize that it was my turn to talk to you first. I know things have been weird since the Hyojung incident and I wanted you to know I don’t blame you for that at all! I know it sounded like I was blaming you but then I realized it was just a misunderstanding and I was so overwhelmed by my emotions-“

He places a hand on your arm, stopping your rambling from continuing.

“Take a deep breath,” he says, thumb rubbing circles on your skin in comfort. “Relax. It’s just me.”

You huff and shake your head. “But that’s why I can’t relax. Because it’s you.”

His fingers move to brush the stray hairs from your face, slowly advancing downwards to caress your cheek. You recognize the slightest hint of a smirk ghosting his lips.

“Yeah? You get nervous because of me?”

You nod sheepishly. “You always make me nervous, Nana.”

His eyes darken at the nickname. “You know, you’re the only one who still calls me that.”

“Oh,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, should I stop saying it?”

Your breath hitches when his fingers trail across your bottom lip.

“You never answered my question.”

“H-Huh?”

“About whether you liked me when I was following you around like a pathetic little boy or when I’m direct with my feelings like this,” he murmurs, thumb resting on your tongue. “Suck.”

You almost moan at the instruction, wrapping your lips around the digit. Jaemin curses under his breath, drinking in your innocent eyes blinking back at him.

You pull away to respond. “I like you. I don’t care what you do — I just like you.”

“Aren’t you the fucking sweetest?” He grunts, no longer able to hold himself back as he lunges forward.

You gasp and place a hand on his chest before his lips could collide with yours.

“I-I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

He pulls back, eyebrows furrowed. “But you and Shotaro-“

“We just held hands,” you say meekly, ashamed to admit your lack of experience. “It felt too weird to kiss him.”

He suddenly stands and begins to gather his things, and your shoulders deflate. He probably doesn’t want to be with you anymore now that he knows you’re the virgin who’s never been kissed.

You’re surprised when his hand wraps around yours and he tugs you along. He pulls you out of the library and you try your best to keep up with him.

“Jaemin, where are we going?”

You seem to get your answer when you land in front of the Slytherin dorms. Jaemin quietly mutters the password to enter and you find yourself being led to a grand staircase, realizing he’s bringing you to his dorm room.

“Hey! She can’t be here!” A voice calls from the bottom of the staircase. You’re about to excuse yourself out of humiliation but Jaemin’s grip tightens on your hand.

“Go fuck yourself, Doyoung.”

“Na Jaemin!”

Once you enter Jaemin’s room, you blink at the sight of Yangyang and Donghyuck sitting on the floor, playing a game of Exploding Snap.

��Get out,” Jaemin barks.

They look up and frown, eyes moving back and forth from him to you.

“But it’s nearly midnight-“

“Get the fuck out.”

They both grumble, taking their card game and exiting the room.

“You didn’t have to kick them out,” you start to mumble, but shriek when his hand wraps around your waist, pulling your body to his.

His nose brushes against yours, and you squirm in his hold. He looks so pretty up close, and you ponder if anyone could be more perfect than him.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You still want to?”

“I’ve always wanted to, sweetheart.”

You stutter. “O-Okay.”

Your first kiss is magical. Jaemin’s lips are so soft against yours, and you melt underneath his touch. At first, the kiss is delicate and gentle, with him holding you like you could break at any second. Then, the kiss shifts into something more carnal and desperate, the weight of his body pressing closer and closer to you. His tongue begs for entrance past your lips and you easily grant it, allowing him to nearly swallow you whole.

You rub your thighs together desperately. “Nana,” you whimper.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

You have no idea how to tell him what you want, so you decide to show him instead. You grab his hand and move it until it disappears underneath your skirt, hovering dangerously close to your core.

He chuckles into your mouth. “Maybe we should take it slow. You just had your first kiss.”

“But I want more,” you whine. “I want what you gave to Seojeong.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You have no idea what you do to me.” His head moves downwards to press kisses along the side of your neck. “I dreamed of doing this to you nearly every night. I always wondered what pretty sounds you would make for me.”

“Wait,” you stop him and he stills, lips a few inches away from grazing your collarbone. You timidly ask, “Can I be your girlfriend?”

He smiles, raising his head to peck your lips. “You’re so perfect. You can be whatever you want, baby. I’ll buy a ring for you tomorrow if you want it.”

You giggle. “Quit teasing me.”

“It’s cute that you think I’m teasing,” he hums, voice filled with mischief. “It’s cute that you think I wouldn’t get on my knees for you and do whatever you asked.”

You swallow when he does, in fact, get on his knees for you. He pushes up your skirt so that he’s staring directly at your pretty pink panties, all cotton with a little bow in the front. You wish you had worn a sexier pair today, but you would never have guessed you’d be in this position.

You squeak when his mouth messily envelops your cunt, his tongue desperately pushing against the fabric.

You hear him grunt. “Smell so good, baby. Your pussy’s dripping for me.” His fingers hook onto the sides of your underwear, pulling it down your thighs slowly. “Do you touch yourself, sweetheart?”

You flounder. “I tried once,” you confess shakily. “I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

“Oh yeah?” He purrs, running a finger through your folds, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. “When did that happen?”

You struggle to piece a sentence together. “The n-night after I caught you and S-Seojeong. I couldn’t stop t-thinking about it.”

He clicks his tongue. “Dirty girl. You touched yourself thinking about me pleasuring someone else? You liked watching us, didn’t you?”

You whimper. “You were right — I wanted to be her so badly.”

You cry when his mouth wraps around your clit, sucking tightly. You almost fold in on yourself but Jaemin steadies you, hands gripping the back of your thighs to make sure you stay in place.

“Nana,” you beg. “That feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

However, he does withdraw himself from your cunt, evoking a mewl from you.

“No, no, please-“

He guides you towards the bed and you tilt your head in confusion when he lays down first, gesturing for you to join him.

“Come here, baby. Sit on my face.”

You blink. “W-What? That’s dangerous!”

He laughs. “Trust me, dying while eating your pussy is probably the best way to go.”

You hesitate. “Nana…”

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It’ll feel really good, I promise. And if I drown in your cunt then you can cast that Bubble-Head Charm to save me.”

“Nana!”

You decide to trust him after a brief deliberation, awkwardly maneuvering your way onto the bed and hovering over his face.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Instead of verbally responding, he grabs a handful of your ass and plants you down until your core sits directly on his mouth. You frantically reach for the headboard to steady yourself, unable to stop the moans crawling out of your throat.

He eats you like you’re his last meal, tongue lapping at your folds and sucking on your clit. You’ve never been touched like this before — never been wanted so desperately by a man who’s willing to cut off his source of breathing just to get a taste of you. You move one hand to grip at his hair, tugging at the strands whenever a sensation grows to be too much for you.

Jaemin is locked in on a mission to get you to your orgasm. The idea of him being the first person to help you reach your climax is so incredibly arousing that he could honestly cum untouched.

You gasp when pleasure spreads across your entire body, accidentally rolling your hips to ride Jaemin’s tongue. He moans in encouragement, using his hands to guide you as you use him like a toy.

“J-Jaemin-“

He sucks your clit hard, and that sends you over. Frantic whimpers spill from your lips as you release onto his awaiting tongue. Your thighs tremble from the intensity of your orgasm, all while Jaemin laps at your gushing wetness.

The pleasure shifts to discomfort from oversensitivity and he finally allows you to draw back. You grow flustered when you pull away and see the smear of your arousal covering his face. He eagerly licks his lips and sighs in content.

Your embarrassment multiplies tenfold when you realize what you’ve done, frantically shuffling away and pulling your underwear back up your legs.

“Where are you going, baby?” He murmurs, wrapping a hand around your wrist and pulling you back to the bed. Your back meets his chest and he hums, pressing kisses to your throat.

“T-That was s-so-“

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Are you feeling dirty now that you let a silly boy eat your little cunt?”

You squirm. “Jaemin-“

He shushes you gently. “Poor baby. You want a little more? I know your pussy’s aching for it.”

Your eyes trail downwards to the bulge in his slacks, looking like he’s about to burst through the seams.

“Will it hurt?” You ask softly, feeling slightly intimidated.

“A little bit, but I’ll help you through it.”

You nod. “O-Okay.”

He starts to move you so that you’re lying down on the bed, but you wrap a hand around his to stop him.

“Can we stay like this? I like it when you hold me this way.”

His arm snakes around your middle and he tugs you closer. “Of course, baby. You’re going to have to be patient, okay? Just take a deep breath and trust me.”

You whine when his fingers dance around the inside of your thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Have to stretch you first or else it’s going to hurt more, okay?”

You tentatively nod and he takes your panties off for good, flinging them across the room. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm so you nearly blubber when he pushes a finger inside of your dripping hole. The sensation feels both foreign and otherworldly, almost like an itch you’ve been dying to scratch. You cry when he curls his finger, sending shockwaves up your spine.

He tilts your head to the side so he can plant another kiss to your lips. He distracts you from a second finger joining the first as he slowly thrusts both up into you.

“Doing perfect, sweetheart,” he sighs into your mouth. “So so perfect for me. Going to add one more, alright?”

“Okay, Nana.”

He whispers more praises in your ear while you somehow find a way to fit three of his fingers inside your tight pussy. You roll your hips to feel more of him, completely stuffed full.

“That’s a good girl. Ride my fingers, baby.”

Your body reacts before your mind does, lewdly dripping down his hand as you chase another impending orgasm. Your mind is clouded by a haze of lust, feeling like an animal in heat with the way you eagerly push onto his digits.

“I think I’m gonna-“

“I know, baby. Go ahead, I’m right here,” he coaxes.

All it takes is a few more twists of your hips and his thumb flicking over your abused clit for you to cum. You shudder, cunt pulsing around him as you come down from your high. You whimper when he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking up remnants of your wetness.

“How did that feel?”

You squeak. “It felt good.”

He smiles and kisses you once more. “Pretty girl. Want to take my cock now?”

You nod shyly, allowing him to unzip his pants and unsheath his length. Your eyes widen slightly at the size of him, his cock angrily red and tip leaking.

“That looks like it hurts,” you comment on his swelling shaft as he adjusts your bodies so that your cunt is hovering over him.

“It does, sweetheart. And you’re the only one who can make it better. Now take a deep breath for me.” You obey his command, inhaling and exhaling slowly to prepare yourself. He turns your head again to look at him. “You don’t have to say it back, but I love you, okay? Loved you since our first year here. Want to make this feel good for you.”

Your eyes suddenly well with tears. “I love you too, Nana. And I trust you, more than anyone else.”

His grin is blinding and his lips smack against yours, the tip of his cock slowly pushing into your waiting cunt. You painfully whine and he holds you tighter, reminding you to relax and breathe. He drives you lower and lower until you’re nearly halfway down his cock, and you gasp loudly. His thumb returns to your clit, circling the bud gently to help you along.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?”

You shake your head. “Y-Yeah, keep going, Nana.”

He sings praises in your ear until he’s bottomed out and you were definitely wrong before — this is what it feels like to be completely stuffed full. He lets you adjust to his size until your tiny cries of discomfort shift into whimpers of pleasure.

“Going to start moving now. Tell me if it’s too much, baby.”

He gives an experimental thrust that has you moaning.

“Good, good,” you breathe, encouraging him to keep going.

He starts pushing into you gradually, groaning at the feeling of your warm walls wrapped tightly around his cock.

“I’m not going to last, baby.”

You squeal when his thrusts increase speed, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

“Ungh, ungh, ungh-“

Vulgar sounds echo in the tiny dorm room with your wetness leaking down Jaemin’s cock and his skin slapping against yours forcefully. You feel like you could easily come again, but your mind screams at you that something’s missing.

“Nana?”

He’s drilling into you now, trying his best to move you up and down his cock at a rapid pace.

“Yeah, baby- fuck,” he hisses, not knowing if you realize how your pussy constantly clenches around him. “What is it?”

“Can you kiss me?”

He swears he’s been blessed by Merlin himself to have a girl as sweet as you. He grants your wish, enveloping his lips with yours and swirling his tongue inside your mouth sloppily.

The simple gesture is enough to serve as the snap to your third orgasm. He moans when he feels your cunt spasm, and he finally releases his warm seed deep into your womb.

You both try to catch your breath as you come down from your high. He kisses you again, and it’s a messy mix of saliva and tongues, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I really liked that,” you confess, and he laughs.

“Good, because we’re going to be doing it a lot from now on. I’m not wasting any more time with you.”

—

You’re about to graduate from Hogwarts when Doyeon and Jimin can’t find you.

You’re meant to be boarding the enchanted boats soon — a ritual that all seventh years take during the end of their Hogwarts stay. All three of you promised to take a boat together, but your two friends can’t seem to find you anywhere.

“Do you think she got kidnapped?”

“Why do you always jump to kidnapping?” Jimin sighs exasperatedly. “I bet you Jaemin just couldn’t take his paws off of her.”

And they would be very correct as Na Jaemin is currently pounding you in the Charms classroom, fingers crumpling your skirt as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy.

“W-We’re gonna m-miss the boats,” you moan, clutching your desk and whining pathetically.

“Don’t give a fuck. You’re the one who wouldn’t let me get my share of this pussy last night.”

“I was hanging out with Doyeon and Jimin! It was our last night in the castle together.”

“Yeah, just like it’s my last time getting to fuck you in this classroom.”

He thrusts into the particular spot that has you keening, back arched as you moan loudly. Usually, your boyfriend would try to keep you quiet, but considering today’s your last day of schooling, he doesn’t see the point.

What could they do, expel you? You already finished all of your exams.

A screech erupts in the doorway and he hears Jimin’s infuriated voice.

“I told you! Jaemin, give the girl a break!”

You cry as you reach your climax, squirting all over Jaemin’s cock and scattering your wetness across the floor. He groans and buries himself deep inside of you, spurting ropes of his cum until his cock begs him for some rest.

“They say when you raise kids that you should expect the day they disappoint you. I didn’t know that this is what they meant,” Doyeon sighs.

You quickly fumble to pull on your skirt and Jaemin tucks himself back into his slacks.

“It smells awful in here! How long have you two been going at it?” Jimin hisses, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“A couple of hours,” he replies with a smirk, wincing when you hit his chest as a warning.

You shakily stand and try to make yourself look presentable. “I’ll be right there!” You call out to your friends, ignoring the perturbed look on their faces. You would normally be ashamed, but that feeling disappeared months ago when they constantly caught you and Jaemin fucking in almost every inch of the castle.

Before you can leave, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in for another kiss.

“I’ll see you on the train, baby?”

“You can’t fuck her on the train!”

You both breeze past Jimin’s comment.

“I’ll see you there. Love you.”

“Love you. And hey, I think you’re pretty.”

You giggle and press your lips to his again.

Doyeon and Jimin take you away before the kiss can progress into another round of fucking.

[healmydesires]

caught your fever I'll be feeling it forever ❅ (a.s)

PART TWO

❅ pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader

❅ summary: You and Anakin have always been the best of friends; who just happen to be in love and are refusing to do anything about it. OR You go on a ski trip with several of your friends and have to share a bed with your best friend, whom you’ve been harbouring feelings for years.

❅ genre: fluff + smut (18+ mdni) modern!au

❅ word count: 12,1k (uhm. sorry.)

❅ warnings/tags: friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers kinda, one bed trope + forced proximity trope, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, reader is described as shorter than anakin, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom anakin, ok… just kinda a softer anakin, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, size kink, praise kink, lots of pet names. this is not beta read sorry!

❅ a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about their blorbo! this one is so hot and dear to me likeeee always wanted to write these tropes. so here you go <3 also ngl.. majority is just smut 😭

AO3 • masterlist

❅⋆* ☾ ⋆* ❅･ﾟ:⋆* ❅･ﾟ

As you open the door to your bedroom, you drop your bag and flick on the light. The space is cosy with pine furniture and a fireplace to light when the room gets cold. The balcony allows for a picture perfect view of the distant forest and snowy landscape. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. Overall, cute and warm.

You hear Anakin swearing quietly behind you as you take in the room.

There’s one thing though.

There’s only one bed.

And it is quite tiny, looks smaller than a double, slightly bigger than a single bed, and various pillows stacked on top of each other.

A few months ago your mutual friends begged you to come along to this ski trip to the Alps. Honestly, you didn’t want to come to this trip in the first place but when Padmé, one of your closest friends told you that Anakin would come along you just couldn’t resist.

You feel your stomach coiling into knots and your body heats up as you realise you’ll have to share this bed this whole trip with your best friend. The man you’ve been hopelessly in love with for as long as you can remember.

All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes catch yours, or the way your heart beats fast whenever you are in close proximity to him. But, of course, you try to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Anakin could never feel the same way about you as you feel about him.

So far, you’ve lived twenty-four years, and throughout a huge majority of it Anakin Skywalker has been your anchor, your only constant. Being his best friend is easy, just as natural as breathing. Falling in love with him was bound to happen anyway. It’s inevitable.

“Fucking, Snips.” He grumbles under his breath.

Ahsoka had promised you that the both of you would be sharing a room together but at the last minute, she picked a bedroom for herself. The only other bedroom left. She’d give you a silent apology with the most innocent smile you had ever seen as she ran up to her room.

Every single one of your friends have already been paired up or have their own rooms and you have a feeling that they did this on purpose.

Slowly, you spin around, looking at Anakin who looks extremely flushed. He looks adorable even if he looks a little overwhelmed right now. If it weren’t for the fact that you feel just as overwhelmed as him, you would probably tease him for his pink cheeks.

“Uhm—”

“Look, I can always just take the couch downstairs.” Anakin interrupts as he grimaces, scrubbing a hand over his face before he turns around to head out the room.

You swallow nervously, steadying your breathing the best way you can before you speak.

“Ani, wait.” You call out, cringing internally at how desperate you sound. “The bed is clearly big enough for the both of us.”

He sighs as he turns around, facing you.

“Besides, the couch is much smaller than the bed,” you huff out a nervous laugh as you try to avoid his eye contact. You pick up your bag and then toss it on the bed. “And it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before.” You smile shyly up at him as you push some hair back behind your ear.

“Right.” Anakin smiles back, just as nervous as you. “Are you sure?” He tries, the idea of sharing a bed with you overwhelming him. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Ani,” you look up at him, as you frown. You’re sure you’re pouting but you don’t care. It feels as if sharing a bed with you terrifies Anakin. “Do you mind sleeping in the same bed? Am I that awful to share a bed with—”

“No!” He cuts you off with wide eyes, a bit too quickly. He clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean, no, of course not. I just, I truly don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Your heart warms up at his words. “I won’t, I promise.” You reassure him with a small but genuine smile. “As long as you’re fine with it too?”

Anakin reciprocates your smile and nods, “of course, sweetheart.”

⋆｡ﾟ❆ ☁︎ ﹡｡⋆｡❅ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ﹡❅ ༶

You can’t stop shivering.

Even hours after you’ve come back from skiing, you’re trembling. The cold not leaving your body, as you can’t seem to warm up. The warm water of the shower from earlier didn’t help either. Your hands are freezing cold, your fingers feeling like ice cubes.

You don’t like skiing, it’s one of the reasons why you were so reluctant to come along on this trip. Not because you hate the sport, but you’re just awful at it.

You’ve been trying all day to ski the right way, only for you to fall on your face in the snow every single time you thought you were getting the hang of it.

You’re certain that multiple of your friends' camera rolls, especially Ahsoka’s and even Ben’s, are now full of pictures and videos of you going down the baby slopes with all the little kids laughing at you as you kept falling down.

The worst of it all is that this wasn’t your first time skiing. You used to go skiing a lot as a kid but it’s been at least fifteen years ago that you put skis on, let alone went skiing. Even with the help of Anakin, you would continue to make a fool out of yourself. After countless times of him catching you, you finally gave up.

You truly wished you stayed at the chalet with hot chocolate and a good book.

Especially after hours of being back in the chalet, you still can’t seem to get warm. Not only are you extremely cold, your body is sore as well.

After you’ve had dinner with the whole group, you go straight to take another shower. You couldn’t wait to engulf your body in warmth again.

As you emerge from the adjacent bathroom in your pyjamas with a hoodie on top of it, after taking your second shower of the evening, you can’t help but stop and stare at the sight before you. Anakin is sitting shirtless against the headboard with some pillows propped against it to make him feel more comfortable, while he’s holding one of his sketchbooks. He’s covered in blankets and you can’t help but find him adorable as you admire him.

The change of temperature in the room is the next thing you notice, before you hear some crackling of fire. Anakin must have started the fire, to bring some warmth to the room. The fireplace illuminates the room in a beautiful warm glow, and you have to pull your eyes away as the orange lightning makes Anakin look even prettier.

Unfortunately, after your shower you still feel extremely cold. The shivering doesn’t stop.

“I lit the fireplace.” He says with a smile as he looks up from his sketches.

Despite how cold you feel, a sense of warmth spreads through your chest by his words. “Thank you, Ani. That’s very sweet.” You whisper before making your way to your side of the bed, instantly getting under the covers and blankets.

Once you are settled underneath your covers he turns his attention back to his sketchbook, resuming his drawings or doodles.

As he concentrates on his drawings, your gaze flicks over to him every one in a while, his face lit up by the orange glow of the fireplace. He’s always been pretty, that’s a fact, but you can see it now more than ever. You can’t help but admire how beautiful he looks, it nearly takes your breath away.

It’s hard to look away.

Minutes have passed and you’re still freezing, teeth chattering and body trembling as chills run up and down your arms and legs. You desperately rub your hands over your arms as you try to warm up but eventually you settle your hands underneath your arms.

The rustling of the sheets has probably caught his attention because soon Anakin calls out your name.

“Did the shower not help this time around?”

You look up as you catch him staring at you. Despite the fact that you continue to shiver underneath the covers you feel yourself get flustered as he looks at you intensely. His blue eyes shine so beautifully in the sunset glow of the room. You almost forget the question that left his lips as you quickly snap out of your daze.

You don’t trust yourself to speak. So instead, you close your eyes for a second and just simply shake your head as another huge shiver runs down your spine.

Anakin seems to contemplate with himself as he lies still after you answered. He sighs after the beat of silence, then puts his book and pencil aside.

“Come here,” he says softly as he beckons you to come to him.

A flash of heat washes over your face as you look at him. As you continue to look at him with wide eyes he rolls his eyes playfully at you. “Come on sweetheart,”

You’re used to cuddling your best friend sometimes but never in this position, and certainly not in the same bed. But you can’t help but feel your whole body crave for his touch.

You nibble on your bottom lip before you finally decide to move closer to him.

As you come closer he slowly wraps his arms around you, giving you time to pull away in case he is overstepping boundaries. Seeing that you don’t pull away, he fully wraps his arms around you; engulfing you in his embrace.

Once you settle in his touch, you’re immersed in warmth. You aren’t sure if it is the body heat your best friend radiates or if it is the blood that runs to your cheeks. Soon you realise you aren’t exactly cuddling him back. So then you wrap your arms around his body, your hands settling on his back.

The touch of your fingers grazing his bare back pulls a shiver and a gasp out of your best friend.

“Shit, angel,” he curses under his breath, pulling back from your embrace to take one of your hands in his. Then he grabs the other one and clasps them together. “Your fingers are literally frozen!”

He holds your hands between his own warm palms as he looks at you. He holds your gaze as you continue to shiver in front of him. Anakin then lowers his head. His lips hover barely an inch over your skin, then opens his mouth to release a few hot breaths directly onto your fingers.

“Sweetheart, you’re freezing.” He whispers, almost as if more to himself. He is rubbing your hands as he looks back at you.

Then he holds your eye contact as he lowers his lips to your skin again. But this time, he presses soft kisses against your knuckles.

He continues to place kisses all over your fingers and occasionally blows some warm air onto your skin. It brings a flutter to your stomach while you stumble for something to say to him. You feel yourself melt and turn putty in his touch. As he continues to shower you in his affection you can’t help but notice how soft his touch is.

“I-I—” you choke as a whirling feeling shoots through your body. Warmth rises to your face once again and all over your body as he continues to stare into your eyes.

The last time you held hands was when you were both children, when his mom took you two to get some of your fave ice cream from the ice cream truck in the park during a hot summer afternoon.

You realise that your body is still extremely close to his, as he continues to hold your hands in his. By now most of the cold has left your body. You’re not exactly sure what made it go away but you are pretty sure Anakin is somehow the reason for it. You’re convinced he is some sort of magician because how could his touch bring warmth this fast back to you.

“Are you still cold?” He asks as he holds your gaze while he plays with your fingertips.

“Yes.” You half lie, as you bite your lip.

Being so close in this bed with him makes your cheeks turn hotter. You hope Anakin can’t sense that you’re lying, because you truly don’t want his touch to leave you.

“Oh, no,” he tuts before a smile grows on his face, “we can’t have that now.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he looks into yours. As he releases your hands you have to hold back a whine at the loss of his touch.

But soon he wraps his arms around you again, pulling you close against him, your chest pressed against his. He sighs softly as you settle into his embrace, and you melt into him as he holds you.

You adjust your head on the pillow. Your body relaxes instantly as he lets you bury your head in the crook of his neck. You’re both incredibly close together, you can feel his heartbeat drum at the same nervous rhythm as yours.

“Feeling better?” He questions as he leans his head on the top of your head.

He chuckles as you hum in response and continue to nuzzle your face against his skin.

“A bit,” you pull at your bottom lip as you look up at him.

His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, over the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.

You feel weak around him. But in the best way.

“You’re so warm, Ani.” You blissfully sigh as you melt into him, nuzzling into his shoulder with your eyes still closed.

You hear your best friend’s breath hitch as your hands start to wander all over his back. You're feeling the soft skin of Anakin’s hips mindlessly, sending shivers up his spine as you graze your fingers slowly against his skin.

You shift your head up just slightly, his chin on your forehead as your nose touches the underside of his jaw. Across your head you can feel Anakin’s breathing, each inhale and exhale starting to deepen as your lips slowly ghost over his chin.

His head then moves away from you just slightly, and regards you for a while, as if he’s trying to determine your comfort level. As you’re both maintaining eye contact, your gaze intensifies as you’re studying Anakin’s face, including his features. You can see the little freckles, moles, his scar and the slight stubble on the lower parts of his face. Your eyes move from his eyes down the slope of his nose and soon your attention is irresistibly drawn to his lips.

The beautiful lips you’ve been dreaming about so many times.

His lips look so inviting, so soft and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on his lips. You’ve always wondered how his lips would feel or how much you’ve always wanted them on your own. How would he kiss? Would he take his time? Or would he devour you?

There’s a moment of silence as Anakin’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.

“Ani, I—,” you start. What are you trying to say? Your heart is beating so fast, it feels almost impossible to think of anything as you look at the man in front of you. You want to tell him everything—that you want more of his affection, that you are hopelessly in love with him, and that you want to be his and his forever.

Anakin doesn’t say anything. Instead, his hands slide down to your waist, tugging you closer just a bit closer. Your eyes widen while his become more drowsy, your breath quickening as his warm breath gently fans across your face. He smells like mint, and you feel yourself lightheaded and almost intoxicated as it washes over you, making you crave him even more.

You’re feeling hot all over, a feverish feeling overwhelming your senses, your heart can’t seem to find peace and quiet, nor can your trembling limbs. It’s not the sick type of feverish, just heat. Tingling, like anticipation but threaded into your nerves, and warmth.

Then one of his hands moves to hold one of your cheeks, allowing for his face to lean even closer to yours, his eyes sliding shut. Your own follows suit as you feel yourself get lost in the feeling of him pressed gently against your body. Both of your noses then brush ever-so slightly as he tilts his head to the side, and it feels as if in that moment the world starts moving in slow-motion.

And then it happens. The two of you are kissing, so suddenly and overwhelmingly it steals the air from your lungs.

One moment you are both staring at each other’s mouths, the next he is wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body fully against him as his soft lips claim yours.

You take a split second to register it, but instinctively you press against his lips with desperation and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

He groans softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. Anakin swirls his tongue with yours so wonderfully it makes your toes curl and warmth spreads all over your body. His hands grips at your waist and brings your body flush against his.

As you kiss him, you give yourself to Anakin completely. He tastes like a mix of cocoa and mint, the hot chocolate he drank earlier tonight and the other flavour is probably from when he brushed his teeth, and you never wanted anything else. Just Anakin, forever.

You want him to consume your very being.

The same hand as earlier comes up to your cheek again, holding your face sweetly as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper. Your heart feels like it is about to burst out from your chest. Anakin is kissing you. He wants to kiss you. You can’t seem to wrap your head around the fact that he is literally kissing you right this moment. He kisses you like you are all he needs and that there’s nothing he’d rather do than kiss you right now, so you hold onto him, knotting one hand in his hair, letting him know without words that you don’t want this to stop.

It feels like the world around you stops and the only thing that matters is Anakin, his mouth, his touch and his body against your own. And you can’t help but want more, more.

He sighs in your mouth as one of your hands comes to trace the bottom of his scar underneath his eye. He tilts your head back, giving him access to delve in your mouth deeper, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip.

Kissing him is like breathing. He brings you so much relief, a relief so instant and intense you can’t help the soft noises bubbling in your throat. You feel truly so alive. He feels like a hot cocoa on a cold winter day, like a hearth fire, like a tender embrace in the middle of the night. He feels like home.

His soft lips move yours and control the kiss, and you can’t help but melt in his arms, letting him do anything he wants. He is so good at kissing, you want to do this and stay in this moment forever.

He pulls away after what feels like hours to breathe, his warm pants fan across your heated face. He is still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moves a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. He murmurs against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. You have no idea how much I feel for you.” before delving back in for more.

You can’t do anything but fall into Anakin, the scent of chocolate and mint flooding your senses and intoxicating you better than any alcohol ever could. Your hands rove all over him, clutching and grabbing and pulling, anything to keep him exactly where he is, so close to you, right where he is supposed to be.

The long, frantic kisses become more sweet, loving pecks. You then pull away from him to look him in the eyes. Your hands rest on his chest as he smiles down at you, nothing but genuine care and adoration in his soft blue eyes. This is real. He must feel the same things as you do. It is almost too much for you to handle, a sweeter variety of tears falling down your face now as a wide, dizzy grin stretches across your face almost painfully.

“I… I’ve always dreamed of this, I… I-I love y-you, Anakin. So much more than you’ll ever know.” You stutter out before closing your eyes as you enjoy the feel of him being so close to you.

He stills, and you open your eyes. A thousand questions pop up all at once inside your brain as you look at him. Have you done something wrong? Was this too early? Did you not read the situation right?

Anakin pulls his head back, looks down at you. His lips are swollen and wet from all the kisses you two shared, his eyes wide and lips parting as he processes what you just confessed to him. Then, he brings his hand back to your cheek, cupping it gently.

He breathes out your name as his eyes dart all over your face.

His thumb runs along your lower lip, tracing it slowly, his eyes lost in wonder. You watch him for a moment, the look in his eyes as he stares at his thumb moving on your lip. He’s looking at you like you’re the most extraordinary thing in the world, touching you so tenderly and with such gentleness, and you never want him to stop.

Anakin leans in then, slowly, watching you with intensity while he moves his other hand to come and cup your face. He leans in until his forehead touches yours, and you sigh softly as you enjoy the closeness again. The tip of his nose nuzzles yours, his warm breath kissing your lips, less than a few millimetres away now, and you move your thumb on his cheek, stroking his skin and making his eyes fall close as he lets out a relieved sigh.

Then a gentle smile lights up his face that makes your heart swell and skip a beat. Soon his eyes open slowly before he stares deeply into your eyes.

“You are everything I desire,” he whispers, making you still your thumb on his skin as you look at him. His forehead is still pressed against yours. You take in a deep breath, feeling Anakin moving his hands on your face slowly, his fingers spreading out to touch more of you. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you or dream of you. There is no one that is as mesmerising and enchanting as you. You consume my very being.” He pauses before breathing out your name. “You’re the love of my life, I love you.”

“You… y-you’re in love with me?” You stammer, unsure if you heard him correctly. You’re blinking repeatedly as you try to make the tears disappear that are forming in your eyes.

“Yeah sweetheart,” he whispers as his smile widens, his thumb stroking on your cheek again. His fingers move to wipe the tears away as they slip down your cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you since we were thirteen,” he says as his smile turns more bashful. “Probably even longer, I am sure I was too oblivious to work it out before then.”

As you look into his eyes, all you can see is pure adoration and love written in them. For all those years, this whole time, you were so scared to tell him how you feel about him… only for him to feel the same way. You were always his, ever since you first laid eyes on him.

“I’ve been in love with you since the first time we met,” you told him, voice soft and quiet. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything for anyone else besides you, ever.”

His grin is contagious, warmer than the fire that’s crackling in the fireplace, brighter than the sun on a warm summer day and you swear that in that moment you feel as if it’s just the two of you in this universe.

You lean your face closer to his to then graze your nose against Anakin’s.

“Yeah?” He smiles, blinding and it only widens when you nod shyly. His nose then moves down to press against your cheek, lips just brushing yours.

“Yeah.” You whisper as you bite your bottom lip timidly.

Slowly he brushes his lips against yours before pulling away just slightly. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips, and you have to hold back a moan at the delicious, inviting sight. “Baby,” he breathes, sending shivers down your spine, as his gaze shifts from your lips to your eyes repeatedly. “Can I…?”

You nod immediately, not trusting your words, and then he surges towards you to press his lips against yours. You sigh into it, your eyes sliding shut as you bury your fingers in his hair. Anakin groans low in his throat as your fingernails rake against his scalp. His hands then move to wander all over your body as the kiss deepens.

You whimper as he gives your bottom lip a little nip, swiping his tongue against it afterwards to soothe the sting. You gasp, and Anakin takes the opportunity to access the inside of your mouth with his tongue. You moan, feeling lightheaded and dizzy as the kiss turns more heated.

You always knew that he’d be an amazing kisser, but this is something else. His hands grip you and crushes your body to his with fervour as he licks and sucks at your tongue. All you can do is melt into him, your arms hanging loosely around his shoulders. You let out more moans and sighs into his lips as he continues to massage the inside of your mouth with his tongue just right.

Anakin devours you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shudders with want, from the need for him. He moves his lips with yours and swirls his tongue with your own. His hand then moves to tangle in your hair as he presses his body to yours completely.

Your hands move to bury in his hair as well. This time, when you pull his hair it is a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whimper as he finally pulls away, leaving your body flush and panting and craving so much more.

“Oh fuck, baby, that’s perfect.” His voice rumbles low in his throat as his adam’s apple bobs, completely exposed. You have to fight the urge to lean down and nip at it, even more heat washes through you at his words.

“I love you Ani,” you whisper breathlessly, as he leans his head back up and kisses you hard on the mouth, his blunt nails digging into your plush hips. “I love you so much.”

“Please, will you say it again baby? I need to hear you say it once more.” He pleads as his eyes flutter.

“I love you.” You whimper as his mouth connects with yours again.

He groans into you, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, and you open your mouth for him when you feel his tongue tracing your lower lip and licking into your mouth. His hand raises to cup your cheek, the other wrapping tighter around you as he keeps your body pressed to his.

His mouth then moves from your lips to your cheeks as he whispers his love for you again and again. He starts to trail long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimper pitifully as he suckles lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.

As he continues to move lower down your skin, Anakin’s tongue pokes out every now and then to lavish your skin with it. Lapping, kissing and sucking at your body. His kisses become longer, hotter and more fervent as he continues on. You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you pull him closer against you.

Anakin groans and bites down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cry out, impulsively grinding your hips against his in a desperate search for some much-needed friction against your aching clit.

You gasp, your eyes flying open at the hard bulge you feel against your pussy. You whine as your core starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention, his attention.

Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. The feel of his desire pressed against your heated skin is heavenly, and you roll your hips up into his to feel some friction against your core.

“Need you so bad baby,” he groans against your skin. You shudder against him and feel the sensation pool down low between your thighs. You’re certain that your underwear is ruined by now.

A high pitched whimper slips past your lips as he starts to move along with you, grinding against your clothed cunt.

Anakin pulls away to look at you. His blue eyes stare into yours as his hands move underneath your night dress, his fingers trailing up your thigh. You feel yourself grow nervous at his touch. Despite how much you want it, anxiety bubbles up inside the pit of your stomach.

“Wait,” you whisper and his movements halt immediately.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks worriedly.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter before exhaling deeply. “You are my best friend, so you know everything about me right?”

“Yes, of course.” He frowns.

You take a shuddering breath, mentally preparing yourself for what you are about to say. “Then that also means that I should tell you that I’ve never been intimate with anyone in my life yet.”

You nibble at your bottom lip as his eyes widen in realisation. He knows what you’re insinuating. That you’re a virgin.

You want Anakin so bad, you’ve been dreaming about this for so long but you’d be lying if this doesn’t make you nervous.

It wasn’t like you haven’t dated before. You have been on plenty of dates all your life, too many actually, you’ve even been in a short relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like Anakin did. You’ve tried to get over your feelings for him for a long while but it’s impossible. And the thought of being intimate with anyone else but your best friend just never felt right.

A part of you always hoped that maybe, one day he’d feel the same.

“Oh sweet girl,” he says softly as he looks at you with so much tenderness it has you melting against him all over again. “Please don’t you worry about that,” he smiles warmly as he leans down to nudge his nose against yours. “I will take good care of you.”

“I need and want you so bad, but I’m scared that I might let you down.” You whisper as you continue to nibble anxiously at your bottom lip. “That I’ll disappoint you…”

“Baby,” Anakin speaks softly before he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your temple while he holds you close. Your body relaxes instantly at his affectionate touch. “I am certain you could never disappoint me with this. It doesn’t matter whether you’re experienced or not, you’ll always be the best lover I could ever ask. Because you’re perfect for me.”

He looks at you with so much adoration and love it has you melting against him all over again. “I trust you Ani,” you nod timidly and soon he leans down to envelop your lips in a slow but deep kiss.

Warmth spreads all over your body as his hands start to wander. You whimper against his mouth as his hands slowly caress both of your thighs. Your head is clouded with so much lust, you feel so much love for him. Your brain instantly turns into mush as you continue to kiss each other passionately.

Slowly his hands reach under your night dress moving towards your lower back and trace the soft skin there. You then start to move your hips desperately against his as you moan into his mouth, hoping that Anakin will get the hint soon enough.

The kiss then increases with an intensity that has you gasping for breath. You roll your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moan into his mouth as you rub against him. The front of his pyjama pants strains as he grinds along with you again.

Suddenly everything becomes overwhelming, the temperature in the room is rising quickly, the feel of his touch as it wanders all over your skin and the fact that you’re going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend has you feeling hot all over.

He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whine as he then rolls you both over, hovering over you as he pins your arms gently against the mattress.

You’re so desperate to feel him again.

“So impatient,” he chuckles with a devious smile after he pulls back momentarily to inhale some air. “Such a needy kitten, begging for my touch.”

“Please,” you whine desperately as you wiggle underneath him.

Moments later his lips press against yours again. The kiss gets more heated the more you kiss each other. His hands move down your body again while yours wander to the back of his head and you pull at some strands softly making him moan into your mouth. One of his hands trails slowly up your stomach as the other holds onto your hip. You’re feeling weak at his touch and warmth pools between your thighs as you continue to kiss each other while your hands wander all over each other.

His fingers brush delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wander all over your skin.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers against your mouth. Moments later he pulls his hands away only for his hands to settle on the hem of your hoodie. “Can I take this off, baby?”

You bite your lip and then nod frantically, unable to use your voice at that moment. He smiles as his hands brush under your hoodie for a second before he hooks his fingers in the fabric and draws it upwards.

You raise your arms to help him remove it. As Anakin is pulling away your first garment, the night gown automatically moves along with it. Soon his hands move down to the fabric underneath, pulling it up along with the hoodie. You feel heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roam all over you, taking in every little detail.

The way Anakin is looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration, has you feeling so alive.

You don’t know what to do with your hands. They’re trembling so much, and your core is, too, as he discards both of the pieces of clothing to the side and begins mouthing along your collarbone with affection.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as his mouth travels all over your exposed skin.

Your bare chests are touching, your skin on fire. You look at him with wide eyes, as he continues to kiss your skin, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

His large hands move to the curve of your waist where it meets your hips and clutches it, holding you tight as he litters damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimper as he traces the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.

He leans down, pressing the softest kiss to the side of your breast before he looks up. “Are you okay?” His forearms rests on either side of your body, and when you nod, he brings a single hand up to stroke your left cheek. “If we’re gonna go any further, I need you to talk to me, angel. I need verbal communication. Think you can do that?”

You stare at him for a moment before you nod again. He gives you a knowing look and warmth rises up in your body again. “Sorry,” you whisper. “Y-yes, Ani. Yes, I think I can do that.”

“Good girl,” he praises with a gentle smile. “And if you want me to stop,” he continues, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the valley of your breasts. Your eyes flutter shut, hands grasping at the sheets. “You tell me right away. Okay?” He mutters in a raw tone, strained.

“Y-yes, I understand Ani.” You whimper.

“Good.”

He breathes in through his nose as he inhales your scent and you shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.”

Then, he wraps his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks and licks with passion.

“Ani,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against something, your cunt seeking friction.

“Good?” he quips back, peering up at you as his mouth curls into a Cheshire Cat smile. You feel your skin flush with heat as you just stare down at him. Lust is written all over your face and he has no trouble reading your expression. So he resumes licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as a hand goes up to squeeze your other breast.

You take it upon yourself to bring the hand that’s squeezing your breast, guiding it down to your heat. As his fingers slip underneath the band of your underwear, down to where you need him the most, his mouth falls open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as his fingers slip between your wet lips.

He traces your pussy softly for a while before he pulls himself completely away from you. He sits up as he removes his pants, you whine as you close your eyes, desperate to feel his touch, wanting him on you again.

Once he removes all of his clothes, you feel him move back up to you. He leans down, roving his lips down to your neck, licking and sucking, as his hands cup your sensitive breasts, massaging them in his hands. Heat overwhelms you as Anakin litters soft kisses down your shoulders to your chest. Your hands find his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continues to wander all over your naked skin.

Anakin’s lips move slowly down your body, kissing every little place he can find on your skin while his hands trace along.

He then leans forward, breathing in your core and running his nose along the patch of dampness. You pull at his hair as he inhales your scent. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he hums as he looks up at you with a smile, his hands leave your skin to curl his fingers into the waistband of your panties. “You smell so good. Can’t wait to taste you.”

A shuddering breath leaves your lips as you lift your hips instinctively allowing him to take off your underwear. Once he pushes your legs wide for him, you whimper as the air hits your wet slit. He takes a moment as his eyes take over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continues to stare at your wet hole.

He licks his lips before leaning down, lips lingering on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Anakin’s lips are so close to where you need him the most yet he feels so far away.

“So pretty,” he murmurs as he guides your legs over either of his shoulders.

You’re about to beg as his lips detach from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.

You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.

He pulls away again only for his fingers to move to spread your outer lips for him, Anakin smirks as he slides a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation or the way your wet hole swallows the digit, and you moan against the pillow next to you trying to muffle yourself.

The whine that comes out of you only drives Anakin to seek out more of those heavenly sounds.

“Fuck, such tight pussy.” He moans, as your cunt clenches repeatedly around his digit. “Need to prepare you for my cock.”

Your whines become louder as you feel the pleasure overwhelm you. His fingers are so much bigger than yours, one of his fingers is more pleasurable than any of your fingers.

You whine as your core continues clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumps his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you begin moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he moans. He looks at you intensely as he continues to fuck you with his finger. His eyes can’t seem to stay in one place as he admires how beautiful you are underneath him.

You are panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slips two more fingers inside you. Anakin moves them slowly at first as your tight pussy tries to adjust to the addition. The stretch is overwhelming but so satisfying. Little whimpers leave your lips as he fucks you with his fingers. He moves his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

Your hands are tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands as your body moves along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spread them.

You gasp, his tongue slipping inside your mouth, kissing you with everything that he has. "That feels good doesn't it, baby girl? You like it when I touch you like this?" Anakin groans and his thumb makes contact with your clit. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.

“Yes, please please Ani, feels… so good.” You moan loudly.

Soon his lips travel all the way down your body making you whine and whimper and beg silently for more — all while he’s still finger fucking you.

Anakin inhales your scent as soon as he leans forward, but doesn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wets his lips before his head dips between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.

“Fuck, Aniiii!” You shriek, as your hips buck off the mattress.

Squeaky, senseless noises bubble up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stutter against him and he just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he'd rather be doing than this right now, eating you out on this bed.

You’re a mess of his name, chanted and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeeze shut to the point of tears, his mouth licks up your clit, he continues to finger you while one of his other hands is holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you buck into him, trying to urge him to do more.

The way he works up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continues to build up as Anakin suckles on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightens as he starts to quicken his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, has your toes curling and clenching your thighs to squeeze around his head.

“Aah, too much!” you squeak, strangled and desperate and extremely close to the edge, “t-too too much, I-I–fuck.”

“Easy, angel,” he whispers before he places a soft kiss on one of your thighs, his fingers stilling inside you.

“Aniiii baby,” you mumble as you borrow your head in the pillow.

“It’s okay baby, I know, I’ve got you” he coos again, his smile all teasing. “It’s a lot. Will you let me continue?”

“Y-yeah, just uh wait a second” you whine.

“Anything for you.”

But after a moment, waiting feels too much. It feels like hours are passing by. You’re already tired of waiting and he is, too. Anakin leans down to dip his tongue between your folds to lick upwards to your clit.

You sigh at the same time he does, except yours is very high-pitched and his sounds so dreamy. Anakin is lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers slowly in and out of you, taking care not to be too rough this time and push you over the edge when you’re not ready for it.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, trying to silence yourself. “Fuck, ahhh Ani, f-fuck…”

He moans against you as his lips seal around your clit and you buck your hips at the action. “Fucking- you taste good. You feel so good. You’re everything.”

“Fuck, Ani baby, oh my fucking— god,” you cry out loud. You’re sure your friends in the other rooms have heard you by now. He sucks lazily at your clit while he curls his fingers into you. Anakin eventually sucks harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You keep chanting his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.

You gasp loudly as your whole body trembles even more, the hot feeling continues to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Anakin’s hand and face. Then your body tenses as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you are experiencing. Your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.

“You’re doing so well for me baby,” he says proudly as his fingers slow down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, while he continues to lick your clit, still helping you ride out your orgasm.

You are a sputtering mess while he teeters you towards overstimulation.

As you come back to your senses, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. Your pussy clenches repeatedly around nothing, you feel like a hot storm and you’re sopping wet from the waist down and dripping down the poor sheets, as you whimper helplessly.

You need him so bad. Your pussy continues to pulse, begging to be filled all over again. Begging for his cock.

Your eyes are still closed as you feel your legs being spread further apart with his strong hands. A loud broken moan leaves your lips as Anakin dives between your legs again, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your needy hole before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet muscle and sucking your button into his mouth.

You practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. Your body trembles terribly. You need more. You try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continues to shake.

Strong arms are suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

“Taste so good kitten, could eat this pussy all day.”

The man you love the most in this whole universe is between your legs as he keeps sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He then sucks the nub softly between his lips.

Eventually he leans down, slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.

You’re a mess, a whimpering needy mess. Your hips try to move against his face as you continue to moan breathlessly underneath him. Writhing below him, you feel him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that has you seeing stars, while your hips buck against his face uncontrollably. Thighs clamp around his head as you feel another orgasm nearing. Defiance and greed consumes your thoughts, your fingers once again gripping onto his brown hair rather harshly and hips pushing against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.

“Ahhh Anakiiiin—” you drag out. You are so close, you just need one more little push.

You’re moving your hips against his face, fucking yourself onto his tongue as he applies pressure on your sensitive spot inside you with his tongue, you can feel his thumb circling your clit, making you see stars.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” Anakin moans against your pussy before plunging his tongue back inside. With a bit more pressure on your clit and the sound of his deep voice you come with a loud whine, your vision turning white and your ears ringing as you feel your movements against his face getting sloppier.

Your hips are stuttering until the final waves of aftershock pass. Gently, he laps at your release until the overstimulation is getting too much.

“You did so well angel, you’re so good to me. So beautiful. You taste so good and sweet.” He says, his voice deep, as he kisses the skin of your inner thigh.

You whimper at his words, gently pulling your hips away from his mouth. He grins, holding eye contact as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth.

You giggle as he licks his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. You bring your hands up lazily to cover your heated cheeks, but Anakin is having none of it. He places soft kisses all over your hands and then drags them down gently, then leans down to pepper kisses to your nose, your forehead, your cheeks, until his mouth lands on your lips with a smile, joining in on the soft laughter between each kiss.

He pulls away with a satisfied sigh, he smiles as he reaches to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.

You sigh as you melt at the feel of his touch and kiss his thumb as it comes to trace across your lips. You wrap your still shaky legs around his hips as you stare into his eyes.

“I think I’m ready.”

“Sure?” He asks softly.

“Yes,” you nod as you then snake your hand between the both of you, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek.

“We can stop at any time if it’s becoming too much for you,” he reminds you, and you know the serious look in his eyes comes from nowhere else but concern.

You pout up at him as you trace your fingers over the scar of his right eye. “I know I’m nervous but I don’t want to stop.”

“Sweetheart,” he coos. “I just want you to be comfortable and I want you to know that it’s okay if you change your mind. I wouldn’t adore you any less if we stop here tonight.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you try to fight them from rolling down your cheeks. His words truly touch you. There’s no one in this world that you adore more than him. You were certain you wanted to continue with him but after his reassurance, you want him even more. You love this man so much. He’s your everything.

You take a deep breath, swallowing back the lump in your throat and bringing your other hand up to cradle both of his cheeks. He looks you in the eyes with intensity. “I want to experience this with you,” you say softly. “I trust and love you with everything that I am.”

He looks at you with so much adoration, tenderness and like you’re a goddess. As if you’re meant to be worshipped and held with the utmost reverence. It has your cheeks heat up, but it also warms your heart, making you feel a lot less nervous.

He then leans down to enwrap your mouth with his, kissing you deeply as he cups your face. Your legs tighten around his hips, pushing him closer against your body. You can feel his hard cock against your core as it strains against the confines of his underwear, sending another hot flash of arousal through you.

Taking a leap of faith, you trail your hands from his cheeks all the way down his torso until your fingers meet his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his boxers. Then your hands move to the band, as you tug at it.

Anakin watches you as all he can do is focus on your touch, and when he feels the still of your hands, he takes it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last remaining clothing off of him. He tosses it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.

Your breath hitches, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. A spark of heat shoots down to your clenching core as you imagine how he will fit or fill you. But it is also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.

Anakin chuckles as he moves back closer to you, as his lips chase your own, as he envelops you into another sweet but deep kiss. “What is this beautiful head of yours thinking?”

“H-how?” You say quietly as you stare at him.

Anakin laughs softly and you can’t help but pout up at him as you hear his soft laughter. “I promise, it will fit.” He reassures you quickly as his hand cups your cheek gently. “Don’t you worry my sweet girl.”

He guides himself into position, his tip poking slightly at your entrance and causing another surge of heat to course through your veins. He rests his forehead against yours, looking deeply into your eyes.

You smile and bite your lip as you roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, he glides his hips along with yours as he rubs against you.

“I love you,” you whisper as you nuzzle your nose against his, reaching up to place a soft kiss to his lips.

His eyes glow in the orange light with a soft, loving warmth. “I love you too.” He presses another sweet kiss to your lips.

The two of you kiss languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.

He holds his length in his hands as he keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. Anakin loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

The thought of him finally entering you with his cock makes you wetter and turns you even more on. Anakin swallows your whines with his lips against yours, his hips rolling with yours. He kisses you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his. You writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.

“I’ll try to go slow, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your slit and your mind is all over the place.

“P-please, Anakin,” you stutter, your body trembling even more underneath him. “P-put it in, please?”

He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before he moves his dick teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine loudly out of frustration.

“Relax baby girl,” he whispers against your mouth.

You whimper in anticipation as his forehead touches yours. He nudges the tip of him against your hole, still slick with arousal. Your legs tremble underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Once he notches himself inside of you, a gasp elicits from the both of you.

You know it was just the tip of him, but you can’t help but feel the stretch already. Anakin slides in so slowly it’s agonising. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big.

You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whine underneath him. He pants along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stings, but his pace keeps it bearable. He guides himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you are digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.

His hips still instantly once he hears the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears begin to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings coursing through you.

“Doing so good for me baby,” he praises as he peppers your face with soft kisses. “You’re doing amazing.”

“Please,” you whimper as your eyes flutter close.

He continues to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you’re able to relax more into it. You whimper, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls flutter around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts softly. You think there isn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you feel your heat get even more wet.

Once he bottoms out, a soft gasp slips past your lips as his tip kisses your cervix. The tears that lingered at your eyes are now falling freely down your cheeks. You feel so full and relieved as he stills against you. Your walls involuntarily flutter around him, getting used to his size. Anakin’s soft lips are on your forehead, leaving soft kisses and whispering sweet nothings and words of encouragement.

You take your time, your eyes slowly opening once you’re ready. As you open your eyes unhurriedly, Anakin is already staring down at you with an intense concern. “I’m fine,” you promise with a pant, nodding as you look at him. “It’s just, a lot.”

As you feel yourself adjust to his size, you realise how full you feel. So full, as if he is made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars.

You need more.

He groans as you clench around him, and you note the twitch of restraint in his focused brow. “Ani, you can move,” you whisper, bringing a shaky hand up to push the curls that fell before his eyes and off his forehead.

He looks at you with a tender look, before he moans after you squeeze around his girth and tilt your hips to invite him to move. He wets his lips before he moves slow and deep. His thrusts start as gentle rocks of his hips, never pulling too far in or out, just enough to feel every movement. The sting hurts for a moment, but it easily morphs into a more pleasurable feeling as he continues to move against you.

Slowly, you are getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulls out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he grinds his cock into you. The angle is so good, gradually he picks up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucks into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin is being heard in the room.

Every time he thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.

“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispers against your skin as he moves to nuzzle his face against your neck.

Soft grunts fall from Anakin’s lips whenever he hits a specific deep spot inside you. You whimper as his lips move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. He snakes one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubs two fingers over the sensitive nub.

At a certain point you feel him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circle your clit, it has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes roll to the back of your head from the pleasure he is providing you. The whimpers that fall off your lips become higher pitched as he picks up his pace.

“Feeling good baby?” He moans, as his lips curl into a soft smile while he can’t help but admire the way your face contorts in pure pleasure. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continues to come out of his mouth as he fucks you. “This pussy was made for me.”

His mouth covers your own instead as he swallows all your little noises of pleasure, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.

Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increase as ecstasy and warmth overwhelm your senses.

His hands can’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimper at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Anakin’s hips. He can feel it too, in the way you clench and squeeze at his length, and he starts to drive even harder into your heat as he tilts his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hopes will blow your mind.

Your arms tremble as they wrap around him, your nails digging in his back making him groan on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, is tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”

“Please…” you moan as you think about him filling you up. “Please Ani, baby, fill this pussy up.”

He grunts as he buries his face into your neck as he fucks into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum sweetheart?”

You nod frantically at his words while your eyes flutter close as you bite your lip harshly. You're bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moves back to your clit as another comes to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubs your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.

“Cum for me, kitten.” Anakin demands softly.

And when he finally nudges against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you're exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, crying out his name. Blood is rushing so wildly in your ears that you can't possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashes his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolls back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure under him.

Anakin groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrusts deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”

You’re still in a daze but you’re still able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezes around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

He moves his hips sloppily before he groans loudly, as he finally cums inside you. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within your walls. You whimper at the feel of his cum dripping out of you once he pulls out.

It's a blurry haze when you come back to your senses, your whole body is aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it is energised, and you don't bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Anakin leans his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“That was…” He breathes, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.

“Oh yeah, that was amazing.” Your voice comes out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you clear your throat gently before you smile up at him.

Your skin is sweaty and sticky but he doesn't seem to care, pulling you closer and running his hands over any piece of skin he can find, still in awe at how amazing you looked coming apart beneath him— all because of him.

You’re overwhelmed with so much love and adoration as you look at him. Both of your hands come up to cup his cheeks before you pull him down again for another sweet and slow kiss.

Suddenly his body shakes above yours as he chuckles. You pull away from his lips as you look at him with a confused grin. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m thankful everyone made sure that we would be sharing a room together.” He says before laughing as you look at him with a surprised expression on your face.

“Oh my god. You think they set us up?” Your eyes widen and you gasp as realisation hits you.

“I don’t just think so, I’m very certain of this.” He continues between chuckles. “In fact, I’m pretty sure some of them even bet on us.”

“They did not!” You gasp dramatically before you giggle along with him.

“They sure did,” he smirks as you continue to laugh softly underneath him. He leans down to press a soft kiss against your forehead, “we have to clean you up.” Anakin mumbles as his fingers trace down your sides causing you to shiver and close your eyes.

“Later, I’m tired,” you murmur back whiningly.

With a low laugh he picks you up, making you yelp in surprise. “Up you go.” You’re about to complain that you can walk perfectly to the bathroom on your own, when you feel sore and your legs feel numb.

He reaches the bathroom, he then sits you down on the edge of the bathtub all while running the water and surprising you by adding in your favourite bath bomb, to make a bubble bath. You can’t believe he brought your fave bath bomb along on this trip. It brings a smile to your face. Once the bath is warm and semi filled, he picks you up again and helps you in the tub and you close your eyes, feeling your muscles relax quickly, basking in the warmth and comfort of the bath.

“Ani?” You question, hoping that he’s still in the room.

“Yes, my princess?” He says softly.

Your eyes flutter open and you see him sitting next to the end of the tub. “Can you please, join me?” You whisper timidly.

“Of course, angel.” Anakin smiles before he stands up.

You look up at him as you scoot towards the middle of the tub, leaving him some space to slip behind you. Anakin slips one foot in as you scoot further away to allow him to comfortably move himself into the bath.

His arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. You sigh happily as you lean your body against his.

“I love you,” he whispers against your ear as he presses soft kisses down your neck. You smile as you melt in his embrace.

“I love you too.”

For a while, you stay like this, enjoying each other’s warmth and company.

Until,

“You think they heard us?”

“Ani!” You hit his arm playfully. “I was enjoying the calm and our moment together.”

He chuckles as he shrugs against you. “I am serious.”

“Yeah sure,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Was that sarcasm? Because I can be serious.” He laughs as he pinches your side teasingly. “Very serious.”

You squeak at the pinch, soon morphing into giggles as he tickles you. “No!” you gasp as you try to wriggle out of his grasp.

You continue to giggle as you feel his fingers trace against your sides, knowing that is where you’re ticklish.

“No! Stop! This isn’t fair,” you say as you try to gasp for air while still laughing, “you know that I’m sensitive here.”

“You know what’s not fair? Making fun of your boyfriend who is trying to be very serious.”

You gasp dramatically, “that’s not true and you know it!”

“I’ll stop when you promise to stop laughing.” Anakin says, as he grabs your waist.

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop. But I can’t stop laughing when you keep touching me like this.” You close your eyes and giggle as he’s still tracing the sides of your body.

Anakin hums as he stops his movements, his arms wrapping around your waist instead, pulling you flush against him again.

You sigh relieved when you’re not feeling ticklish anymore.

He brings one of his hands up to your cheeks, moving your face right up to level with his lips a mere breath away. “Even when you’re laughing at me, you’re still the sexiest and most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

His lips then envelop yours in a soft and gentle kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

Shuffling closer into him in the water, you press your naked body against his. Easily, your legs tangle together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you.

“I love you too.”

And that’s how the rest of the night goes, tender kisses and soft touches shared between you two as you enjoy each other's company. Feeling so loved and at home as you melt in his embrace.

[thegnomelord]

yk how they cover fighting dog's eyes in order to calm them down? would that work on Hound or just rile him up more? if it'd calm him down I can imagine when/if he's "better" enough he'd start shoving his face into price or any of the other 141 to feel safer/calm, like nuzzling in between their shoulder blades/neck or if they're lying down together just pushing his head into their arms 😶‍🌫️

hmmm Price holding Hound against his chest to calm him while he claws and begs into his captain's skin for forgiveness because he acted out again, even if Price had already forgiven him🤔

if the loss of sight just makes things worse then I can see all of them always making sure Hound can know where they are, making noise when they can and maybe even dragging their feet a bit so he doesn't swivel his head around constantly to look for them😚 ignore this if u want tho reading it back is making me cringe a bit-

No, no, anon this is great! Y'all are giving me so many ideas♥️

I definitely think Price would have done that to Hound before he got captured, putting his beanie or just his hand over Hound's eyes and talking about Hound like he wasn't even there to basically calm him down. Like you know how you're a kid sitting between your parents and they're talking about you but you're snoozing or something like that. It would have just been comforting for Hound.

But Makarov soured it by using sensory deprivation as a punishment. And a pretty severe one at that, so Hound gets extremely violent when his sight is deprived.

But also like, when Hound's better, letting them cover his eyes as just this huge show of trust just melts my heart. Like:

CW:SFW just a bunch of fluff, cuddle piles

This feels. . . strange.

You're laying on top of Price, practically crushing him beneath your weight, your head and shoulders pushed beneath his loose shirt so you can lay your head on his naked chest. It's dark, and warm, the scent of musk and sweat curls in your nose as his thick chest hair tickles your face with every even breath, his heart beating so calmly beneath your ears.

It's strange. It's the best way you can describe it; a part of you is disgusted with the proximity, panic occasionally jolting through your system and lining your muscles with lead as your body expects for the hit to come any moment. Only for a calloused hand to run down your spine gently, turning your tense muscles into mush.

"You're alright lad." His voice rumbles in his chest, a type of tone that is both calming and commanding. "Just listen to my voice yeah? Good boy," A pleasant shiver runs up your spine as the praise, a low whimper escaping you as you nuzzle your head further into his pecs. Your head feels stuffed with cotton yet his low praises still reach your brain, and it feels strange to get them without any work, to be praised just for simply existing, but it's also. . . nice.

"Oi Price-" You tense immediately as the door suddenly opens, loud voices shooting lightning into your muscles. Price scruffs you through the shirt before you can react any more, calming you down to the point you don't even notice what they're talking about.

"Wh- Soap!" Price shouts.

You feel the bed dip, a disgruntled sound leaving your chest as a body shuffles under Price's shirt next to you. Soap's scent hits your nose before his head bumps into yours, "Yer like a pig in shite pup." His hair scratches your face as he makes himself comfortable on Price's other pec, and you don't need sight to know he's grinning like a fool. "Cozy in 'ere."

"How comfortable are his tits?" Ghost's voice reaches your ears, and it must be his body that lays down next to yours, supporting some of your weight that you're not crushing Price by wrapping a loose hand around your waist. His body is solid against yours, both of them are, Johnny's arm wrapping around you just bellow Simon's hand, unapologetically groping your ass.

"Boys!" Price sputters, and without sight you can only imagine how flushed his face must be, he always got red as a lobster when you'd tease him. "Can't you be decent for one day?"

"We're wearing pants aren't we?" Gaz's laugh sounds somewhere behind you, and you're pretty sure it's Gaz that lays down between your legs, using your ass as a pillow. "Oh, wow," You hear him mumble as if astonished, heat burning across your skin as you feel him nuzzle into your ass.

A low whine escapes your throat without notice, and you're not sure why, just something about the way they handle you, like you're made of glass, makes lightning crackle down your spine.

"Do you want to stop?" Price's voice is non-judgmental, his hand brushing your hair that peeked through the stretched taught neckline of his shirt.

You shut your eyes, breathing in deeply. "No." You say, your arms gripping Price's pudgy stomach even tighter.

You feel Johnny shift closer to you, his lips blindly brushing against yours. "Aye, yer fine bonnie." He grins, and pushes his head to meet your lips in a proper kiss. You can taste the aftertaste of tobacco from his cigarettes and the mints on his tongue.

This is nice. You could get used to this.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader) Part 5, MDNI 18+

Synopsis: Finally out of the Underdark, the group takes a rest day. You and Astarion go swimming. Astarion shows you his scars. "No shoes, no shirt, no service" ends up working out pretty well for you.

CW: SMUT, virginity loss (not glorified), PiV, Oral (F! Receiving), Dead Dove

*can be read independently

Author Note: Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all the love and support!

Part 4: Part 6 : Master list

 You could not be more grateful to be out of the Underdark and away from Minotaurs or to have a true rest day. 

On the other hand, you are borderline loopy if you are being entirely honest with yourself. Your entire body feels excruciatingly heavy and you kind of just want to sleep. 

 It’s been a really long and difficult trip. You are over it- mostly because you really don’t want to go to the crèche. Shadowheart and Lae’zel have been like two toddlers throwing tantrums back and forth regarding the whole thing and at one point you lost your marbles.

“You!” You pointed at Shadowheart, “STOP BEING A RACIST JACKASS!

 You turned to Lae’zel, “AND YOU! Stop threatening her with a good time!”

 You and Astarion went on the hunt for Blackberries. It was initially just you going, but he asked if he could go with. He was rather shy about the whole thing and you are still trying to figure out what his feelings towards you are- which is also very confusing and tiring.

  A hand wraps around your bicep, interrupting your thoughts, and Astarion just barely pulls you before you walk off a larger rock and go tumbling to the ground.

 The only one who has taken any real notice in your emotional distress is Astarion, but you don’t know he realizes that and that he is very hyper aware of your needs and potential stressors. It’s part survival technique and also part absolute obsession with how wonderful you are. He feels like a giddy school boy and it’s weird. 

“Darling,” he scolds you, “why didn’t you say you were dangerously tired?”

“I’m fine,” you fib, not wanting to inconvenience him with worry.. 

 Astarion rolls his eyes and takes his bow and arrow off his back. He straps them to you before guiding you up a rock. 

“Well?” He asks with a shrug.

 It takes you a moment and you blush extremely hard. You can’t keep doing this to yourself- it’s getting pathetic. 

“I am fine, really, I -“

“Says the person who damn near walked straight off the cliff,” he chastises you again, “besides, I drank our last elixir of giant hill strength so I might as well put it to use.”

 You eventually agree and you are grateful that he carries you on his back with ease. You wear mostly light armor- preferring to be able to move swiftly to support healing your companions or fellow selunite’s. 

 Astarion smells like his cologne with a hint of salt. You can hear his barely existing pulse thrumming through his skin. Sometimes it’s odd to realize your blood is what runs through his veins right now. 

 It feels oddly intimate and dare you say… special? 

 You had woken up this morning to a very frustrated Astarion. He had reported that his hunt didn’t go well so you offered your neck. 

  Astarion hasn’t fed from you in a while so when his teeth broke skin- he had to be very mindful of his every action. You, on the other hand, were fighting off the faint moans that you refuse to let escape your lips while he feeds.

 You have no desire to sexualize him- it’s the intimacy of the act itself. Nothing more, nothing less. You haven’t been touched in a while and you haven’t touched someone in a while- not in that way anyway.

 Your hands had tangled in his hair and you were about to let him bleed you dry. He thankfully had enough restraint for both of you. 

 You thought everything was black and white- unrequited love at its finest. 

 The kiss is confusing and you keep trying to convince yourself it’s merely because he was caught up in the heat of the moment or you imagined it. The proximity isn’t helping and all you want is to do it again.

“Star?” You murmur.

 Astarion perks his ears up, “hm?” 

 “I need a nap.”

 He rolls his eyes and smiles, “well, maybe someone wouldn’t be so sleepy if someone asked for help every once in a while.”

 “I-I… ask for help,” your voice going from indignant to a grumble. 

 “You are disgustingly selfless,” he remarks, “you should do something for yourself for once.”

 “Like what!?” You exclaim, “should I try mushrooms again? Is this what you are suggesting?”

“Absolutely not,” he tsks, “I prefer when there is a smile on that lovely face of yours and I saw far more of your frown than your smile during that whole debacAle.” 

 You are so grateful he can’t see you blush like a schoolgirl right now. You wouldn’t be able to explain yourself. 

 You look around in the environment and try to come up with something fun you can do to fill your cup- which, surprisingly enough- you do so rather quickly. 

“What if we went to that waterfall?” You offer, “the water was clear and the area was cool. It would be a great way to cool off.”

“You mean the water down the insanely large cliff?” 

  You nod and are suddenly being put down- Astarion puts both hands on his hips and leers at you- then shrugs.

“Fine, but no falling or drowning- please. I don’t need oxygen, but I have no idea if I can swim or not. “

 Your original excitement wanes and turns into a different kind of excitement entirely. You cast Feather Fall and are quickly leaping over the side of the cliff- you love your silly flying magic- both flying and feather fall. You are one of the few clerics you know that actually knows how to cast fly, but you typically prefer to use a potion to avoid having to concentrate on it. You have fallen a few times before because you forgot to keep focusing. 

 Before you know it, you have dragged him towards the shallow part of the pool of water below the waterfall. Astarion looks like he may be sick, but you are certain you can teach him how to swim if he doesn’t know how to. 

 However, what you didn’t think about was the lack of swimwear. 

 It can’t possibly be that big of a deal. You are both perfectly mature adults and it’s not like seeing your friend in his underwear is that weird.

 Sure he kissed you, but he hasn’t said anything else since or tried again. It was probably an accident- even after everything he said. You know he isn’t someone to shy away from what he wants.

Besides, you try to see this as a positive rather than the excruciating negative it actually is, he isn’t even attracted to you so you don’t even have to worry about how you look! Your hair can get as mussy as it needs to be!

 You begin to get rid of your armor and Astarion almost seems to get taller suddenly- you look over and raise an eyebrow at the obviously shell shocked man.

“What? You can’t swim in your armor- you would be stuck at the bottom,” you exclaim as if the man in front of you is gawking because you are using common logic, “and I would drown- which I certainly do not want to do.”

 He blinks several times- almost too fast to be human, if you are being entirely honest with yourself, before he snaps out of it and puts on his usual confident smirk.

“I am glad we can agree on something for once,” he teases, you don’t notice the amount of effort he is putting in to not looking further from your face, “but if you wouldn’t mind turning around while I strip into my un-“

“Oh! Duh!” You feel wildly embarrassed, “I am so sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Gods I didn’t even think about that before I began- I will do better next time.”

 Flustered, you turn around and slowly submerge yourself in the water to get used to the coolness of it. It’s significantly colder than the water near Emerald Grove and you really miss it. You really liked the weird harpy beach (after the Harpy’s were removed) and the sand had been soft. 

 Maybe you should travel back some time. You are certain Karlach would be absolutely thrilled to go back after her and Wyll had their “epic cannonball” competition. Gale had cast feather fall, but it still didn’t stop the belly flop Wyll performed to hurt any less.

 That was a fun day, you think to yourself, I wish Astarion had been there, but still. I think these are the first people I feel like I belong around. 

 You smile to yourself and take a deep breath. 

 You are very proud of yourself for stepping up- you feel eons away from the person who woke up on the Nautiloid and significantly more confident in yourself. 

 You are a smart, funny, and charming individual. You are someone worthy of love and you are grateful to have boat loads of it now. 

  The water splashes from behind you and you wait for several moments. You begin to feel a bit worried when there is some silence and then teeth chattering begins. 

 You turn and Astarion is hugging himself- leering at you with his lips set in a pout.

“It is MISERABLE IN HERE!” 

 You giggle and cast a warming cantrip that Gale taught you. The water becomes significantly more comfortable, but Astarion still groans and complains. 

“What if I just watched you swim?”

 “That would be weird, Astarion.”

“Is it?” He questions, “mothers and fathers watch their children swim and don’t join them all the time- if my memory serves me correctly.”

“Are you saying you’re my mom?” You snort and relish in the way his entire face turns pink- his ears especially.

“I- NO!” You have never seen him this flabbergasted before, “I have no desire to be your mother.” 

“Oh, so you are my dad then?”

“Ye- NO!” 

 You throw your head back with mirth and laughter. It’s fun on the rare occasion that you catch him off guard first. Astarion is usually making you trip through sentences. 

You wipe away your tears and your face hurts from smiling. You feel like your face may split in half when you look at his face. He looks equally as happy and he is still embarrassed- it makes him look softer and he blinks very slowly. 

 His lips… look… so… kissable!!!!

Swimming! You scream at yourself, you came to teach him how to swim, not imagine making out with him!

 “Alright,” you submerge yourself until you are neck deep, turning to face him, “I believe in you peepaw!”

 Astarion glares at you and you give him a shit eating grin.

“I am going to fucking kill you,” he yells over the waterfall.

“PROMISE!?” 

 Astarion rolls his eyes at you before nervously looking down as he watches the rest of his upper torso disappear. Another drool worthy aspect of him that you, begrudgingly, will never get to see outside of this capacity again.

 Shadowheart saw him in that capacity. 

 It’s almost enough to derail you and want to run back to camp.

Almost.

  Where you are up to your neck, Astarion still has quite a lot water clearance. 

“Look at that!” You wipe away a fake tear, “they get older and older everyday.”

“Oh will you knock it off with that already!”

 Astarion splashes you in the face and you sputter- spitting the water that got into your mouth out. 

“EEWWWWWW!”

“HAH!” 

 It takes a few more childish splashes before you eventually get to the initial matter at hand. However, you didn’t anticipate it taking thirty minutes to convince him to even doggy paddle.

“Maybe Scratch would be a better swim teacher,” you scratch the back of your head, “maybe he would demonstrate better.”

 Astarion is tight lipped and you have noticed that he refuses to turn around in front of you or allow you to get behind him. 

 Does he have some kind of nasty mole or something?

 No, you shake your head, it’s not your place to ask. 

 “What if we tried a backstroke?” 

 Astarion takes to that very quickly-  becoming faster than you even. 

 Everything is going “swimmingly” (Astarion splashed you again for that one) and you are pretty bummed that you have to leave. You are getting tired and your stomach is growling so loudly he can hear it.

 “Wait,” Astarion pulls you back before you get out of the water- it is now just below your shoulders while Astarion almost has his entire torso above water.

 Don’t look. Don’t stare. Don’t look. Don’t stare.

“Yes, Star?”

 A ghost of a smile flickers on his face, “I- I want to show you something.”

 You are a bit confused, but nod anyway. Astarion grabs your hand this time- a shock to your system- and pulls you out while looking at both of your hands. He refuses to look your way and he seems to struggle with letting go. 

 He closes his eyes with a shaking breathe and turns around, his fists are in tight balls and you are beginning to worry there may be a creature that wishes to consume you coming out of his back at this rate.

 Thankfully, the situation isn’t that dire, but you still take a sharp breath. 

 You can see why he didn’t want to turn around earlier. The scars are so precise and deep- it looks horribly painful. You cannot imagine how long it took for this to occur- considering he has vampiric healing. 

 The skin has been healed over a thousand times, but your heart feels broken when you think about how many people have taken advantage of his situation and never stopped to ask how they could help. Those who dug their nails into his back or found beauty in his scars- only wanting to enjoy his body and chase their own pleasure.

 You aren’t sure what you should do. You want to touch them and soothe every emotional and physical wound- even the ghosts of them- but you aren’t sure that would be accepted considering the nature of the scars. You want to tell him you think the world of him- that you love him and nothing could ever change that. Hells- you would kill Cazador tomorrow if you could- but you don’t think that would help either.

 You have never felt this angry in your whole life.

“A gift,” he says solemnly before his voice is flooded with venom and embarrassment, “from Cazador.

“He composed it over the span of a night,” his shoulders slump, “he made many revisions as he went.” 

 You recognize the language and it makes your stomach turn. 

 This soul swears no oath by fire 

Nor words does he speak

In the realm of death

“Do you know what it is supposed to be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I have never seen it. A poem or something like that.”

 A poem? That isn’t right. It’s poetic, but it seems more of a contract or curse.

 You shake your head, “this is Infernal and while it reads like a poem- it’s certainly not a poem.”

“What!?” He turns around and looks at you with panic, “infernal?” 

  This leads to drawing the design out of the dirt on the beach.

“What in the hells did he do to me?” 

 Astarion’s fear and horror soaks into your bones. You look down at the looping design. 

 It makes your own skin crawl and the message itself worries you deeply. It makes you worry that Astarion will never ever be free, but it wouldn’t make sense. This is a devil’s contract- you aren’t sure people can use those to bind themselves to someone.

“Karlach and Wyll may-“

“No,” he interrupts, “let’s keep this between us for now.”  

 You erase the evidence quickly and you are admittedly a bit surprised by the statement. 

“Doesn’t Shadowheart know? She may-“

“Shadowheart hasn’t seen them.” 

“I think she- wait really?”

“Yes.”

“But you-“

“Barely- neither party was enjoying themselves.” 

 Oh.

 Your perplexed mind must be showing on your face because Astarion smirks at you with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh please- I may be a worthless elven whore, but I-“

“Do not say that,” you cross your arms and Astarion’s sentence stops in it’s tracks, “you are not ‘worthless’ and you are not a ‘whore’ either. Even if you were- of your own volition- there is nothing wrong with that. Sex work is a very valid form of work and as long as you are happy, I will be more than happy for you.

“However, that is not the reality of the situation.” You feel your frown settling further into your face, “what happened to you is cruel and horrific. No one deserves to be treated that way- especially not you- and I can assure you that the Priestess and I are going to have serious words about including vampire spawn and helping them when I return to the temple! I am embarrassed on the behalf of the entire damn clergy.” 

 Astarion’s eyes soften significantly with a bit of warmth and humor. He also looks authentically surprised by your passion regarding the subject. He nods and turns away- continuing to get dressed and you do the same. 

 You aren’t necessarily thrilled with yourself because you neglected to think about what you are going to wear to sleep. You have a few pairs of camp clothes, but now they are soaked adjacent and you still technically have a tent mate. 

 Unless he decides that this is all too much? It feels like there has been a lot more emotionally intimate moments between both of you and you worry from time to time. It helps that you don’t have the pressure of a romantic bond, but you don’t want to make him feel trapped. 

  You walk back in silence- stretching and yawning as you go. 

 There is so much to do tomorrow. Laundry- big time. Probably need to try to secure more food before we cross the border… at this rate, we never know when the next time to restock will be.

 Ugh- especially with the Shadow Cursed Lands. We probably need to secure more blood for Astarion too. Oh and finding a way to store it so it doesn’t become disgusting. Maybe a few Restoration scrolls. I know I will be the primary source of food for him. 

 “You are thinking awfully hard over there, Darling.”

“I am just thinking about my chores.”

“Chores?

“Well, for one, I need to wash my clothes. I didn’t think about that before we went swimming. I am also trying to figure out the food situation- we are going to need to figure out how to store blood for you and try to collect as much food as we can before entering the Shadow Cursed Lands. I want to begin preparing for that now so we don’t run into trouble later. Hungry bellies and life threatening circumstances never end well.”

“Y-you don’t need to worry about me, Darling,” he stammers, “I am sure I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but I want to help. It will stress me the hells out if I know we don’t have something for you to eat or at least several potions so I can recover because you starving is not an option!” You exclaim, “and could you imagine Shadowheart and Lae’zel interacting while hangry? I like living, thank you very much.” 

 Astarion snorts and shakes his head, “I don’t know- I think it would make for a rather fun evening. My money would be on Lae’zel.”

“Really?” You are genuinely surprised, “my money would be on Shadowheart only because Karlach may get involved. Otherwise- Lae’zel all the way.”

“What if we made them ‘hangry’ on purpose,” Astarion offers, “we could see exactly how the situation goes? For research purposes, of course.”

“Of course,” you say, “just for research…”

 The two of you hatch a plan- the next day, you will refuse to take breaks and Astarion will throw a fit if you try. This means the two women won’t be allowed to snack throughout the day and Gale always takes forever to cook. 

 At some point, Astarion intertwined his fingers with yours and you notice, but you just hold on tightly. You really don’t want him to let go and it feels natural. You don’t notice the way he is looking at you or how he has to pay extra attention to the environment while he listens because he has almost tripped a couple times. 

 The walk home is calm and peaceful. You chatter back and forth about the various theories you have regarding Gith culture and the oddness of the crèche.

  Once you finally get back to camp- you practically skip to your tent to get out of your wet clothing. 

 It’s not until after that you realize you have made quite the error by getting caught up in your to-do list without informing Astarion that you don’t necessarily have clothes- your laundry situation is far more dire than you mentioned- and he may want to sleep in his own tent tonight. Your laundry didn’t just magically do itself in the last 10 minutes.

 You groan- thankful you have at least found a pair of underwear that are clean, but what are you supposed to do about a top? You also can’t go out to the campfire exposed. 

 “Darling- I think I may have left my-“ he coughs suddenly, “shirt.”

 Your arms cover your chest by instinct although you are turned around. 

“Oh- uh- ya um probably over there,” you sound even more awkward than you feel, “I am probably going to spend time here for the rest of the night. Didn’t really think about the laundry situation.

“I suppose that means I will see you tomorrow-“

 As if on cue- a shirt is pulled over the top of your head and you naturally put your arms through the holes. He spins you around with his delicate fingers leaving the ghost of his presence along your hips.  

  Blood is rushing through your ears. You feel far too warm and you just try to focus on the floor as he ties the laces up the front of his shirt. 

“There,” his voice is thick with an emotion you don’t know, “I suppose we are both stuck in here then. No shirt, no pants, no service, or whatever nonsense. It’s never stopped me though, but I can imagine you are no more ready to die than I am.” 

“What do you mean?”

 Astarion looks at you with a roll of his eyes and takes off his cloak.

“Oh please.”

“What!?” 

  Astarion guffaws at you, “Gale would explode if he had the opportunity to see you without any pants. It would be instantaneous.”

 Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. That’s nonsense and absolutely silly.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” you huff, walking to your pack to get your brush, “I think it would be more so him dying of shock that I have skin to show.” 

  More silence as you brush your hair- styling it the way you prefer and praying to Selune that it dries correctly. Also that you don’t fall asleep so prematurely that it dries weirdly. 

 You are distracted though. You very much like how you look in Astarion’s shirt and it is very nice of him to be lending it to you. 

“I’ll make sure to wash your shirt with my laund-“

“I would prefer you didn’t,” he muses, “I rather like it when my clothing smells like you in your natural state, Darling.”

 You run straight into him as you turn around in your confusion, his fingers tilting your chin up until your eyes meet his.

 Ruby eyes send a massive infernal wave through you- this is how you imagine Karlach feels after consuming a soul coin. 

 You burn for him- whether he lights you on fire or sends electricity through your body. Only, you feel powerful in the way he looks at you. 

 It’s a somewhat possessive look, but not in the way you would have anticipated. It’s lustful and wanting, protective and gentle, heartbreak and hopefulness. Maybe even a bit of a fear. 

“Would you be with Gale like this if he asked?” 

 You shake your head wordlessly. Your cheeks are flushed, your heart is thumping erratically against your chest, and blood is rushing in your ears. Your entire body is quivering in anticipation.

 Astarion pulls you to him, his hands lightly on your ass. You can feel his finger curling- wishing to leave fingerprint bruises on your hips and thighs. You want him to so terribly it hurts.

“And Wyll?”

“No,” you say breathlessly. 

“Halsin?”

“Not without you.”

 He stops and chuckles darkly, “don’t threaten me with a good time, Lover.”

 You try to hold still as he kisses along the curve of your jaw- his other hand has become tangled in your hair. You want him to feel in control and to feel like he can stop if needed.

“What about the others?” 

 Gods- you can hardly believe he is serious right now.

“I only want you, Astarion.”

  This is not a confession you wanted to share ever again, but it’s out there now and you suppose it’s better to get your second rejection over with now than later. He’s probably just teasing anyway. 

 Only, it never comes- in fact- his fingers only seem to become more fidgety as they glide across your skin, sending shockwaves to your core. 

 You are in a trance and his grin is beautiful. Astarion is certainly a predator and you have quickly turned into helpless prey. You are right in his trap. 

 The whole world seems to just… stop. Your heart beat is thundering in your chest and blood roars through your ears. You wonder if he feels this way too- is this a universal experience or one sided? 

 His fingers travel along the curves of your face as if he is painting you, but his eyes are intense- it almost feels like he is trying to memorize you and your features. 

 Your breath hitches when his thumb swipes across your bottom lips, parting them ever so slightly. 

 You allow your eyes to meet his, and you have never wanted to be kissed more in your entire life. Something in the way he looks at you tells you that he feels the same. 

 It’s a silent consent- he watches your every move as he leans in and your eyes flutter shut the closer he gets to you. 

 The anticipation is killing you and you try to contain your huff of frustration, but you are desperate. This feels like a dream. 

 Astarion’s lips send shockwaves through you when he finally makes contact. 

 Every movement is slow and tender- your face is still cradled in his hands, but you aren’t sure where to put yours. Astarion seems to read your mind and his hands travel south, gently guiding your hands to rest on his chest before returning to your face. 

 You have kissed people before, but not a single soul could hold a candle to Astarion. Not that they could anyway, but this is just… incredible. 

 His lips like honey and wine are dizzying, you feel like a delicate work of art in his hands, and his skin feels like porcelain underneath your fingertips. 

 Astarion guides you to the ground, your hips straddling his, and one of his hands tangles itself in your hair, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other remains firmly on your hip and you feel exhilarated by the idea of the fingerprint bruises that are certain to be left behind. 

 One of your arms is propped up next to his head- helping you keep balance so you don’t fall on top of him by accident. The other slides in between both of you and rubs along the outline of his cock- you swipe your tongue along his lower lip when he moans, taking advantage of the temporary dominance. 

 It’s short lived- he pulls you back by your hair and you have to put your hands on his chest to keep from embarrassing yourself. The last thing you want is to topple over on accident and have the, “yeah so I have a dirty V-Card and haven’t gone all the way, but it’s no biggie! I am sure this whole position thing will make sense eventually!” Because that seems to just scare off men. 

 The hand that had been gripping your hair is now paying an artfully close amount of attention to your clothed clit, pushing away the fabric, and one finger slides inside you with ease. 

 You bite your lip so hard you draw blood and you basically growl- you don’t want to alert the entire camp to your activities. This is meant to be a private moment and yet, you could not be more embarrassed.

“I-“ you are blushing red, his finger still moving slowly inside you, “I’m- sor- just wanted-“

 Astarion has you on your back- sucking, nipping, and lapping at the blood on your lower lip. He reinserts his lithe finger inside of you- his thumb taking it’s sweet time to hit every single nerve followed by a second finger that makes you briefly see stars.

“I don’t want to hear you ever apologize to me over something like that- it’s a noise I would rather like to hear from you again,” he nips your lower lip and you groan, “you are absolutely divine.” 

 You are a moaning mess against his doll like lips and your core is tightening so much it’s bittersweet. You want your release so terribly and you are lost in the way his fingers feel inside of you. Astarion curls and scissors his fingers- eventually adding a third that makes your toes curl in pleasure.

 He begins to make his descent down your body- kissing along the vein in your throat and along your collarbones. 

 Every inch of your skin is littered in kisses or has been love bitten by the time his cold tongue circles your sensitive clit. His fingers continue their rhythm- occasionally changing speeds to either tease or ruin you. His other hand is holding your hips down- your thighs are holding his head in place and you have no idea how much he is enjoying being buried between your legs. 

 He really, really made a mistake going with Shadowheart. You are incredible- exceptional even. The way you are fighting to keep your moans quiet as the camp begins to stir to life makes his cock twitch painfully against the already strained clothing. It doesn’t seem to matter how much friction he provides himself with- all he can think about is being inside you, filling you to the brim, taking you and making you his once and for all. 

 When you finally have the wherewithal to look at him- you are taken away with the way he looks at you. It’s the same way a priest looks talking about his God. 

 You guide his face back up to yours by weakly grabbing his hair- evidently your mind is in the same space and wanting to feel entirely consumed by him. You bite his lower lip and the growl he releases tips you over the edge- stars explode behind your eyes and you feel the rush of bliss numb your entire body. 

 A low pitched whine leaves your throat when he removes his fingers. He chuckles, but you feel so incredibly empty. It feels wrong. You are desperate to know him in every way, if he wants that.

 His eyes are still blown with lust, but you can see the adoration for you that Karlach so often talks about. You are smiling like a schoolgirl as he slots himself between your legs and begins to kiss you again. 

 Astarion’s cock is hard against the inside of your thigh and your breath hitches- the implication of the next act suddenly hitting you. 

 It’s happening and with someone you care about. Only, it makes you freeze, because it’s happening and it’s with someone you care about. 

“Is everything alright, Darling?”

 Astarion is looking at you with concern and you are quick to assuage him- gently guiding his face down to yours and kissing him deeply.

“I haven’t quite- reached this step yet- if that makes sense, but I PROMISE I WANT TO,” you are trying to save it before it crashes and dies on the floor, “if you want to- that is. 

 Astarion looks a bit surprised- maybe even a little shell shocked. What do you mean you haven’t quite gotten to this step? Are you trying to tell him you are a virgin?

 It makes sense, but a part of him is worried he may be opening the proverbial Pandora’s box and you will only want him for sex now. 

 But this is you and… he can trust you. He can enjoy you. He can indulge safely.

“I very much want to,” his voice is low and thick with lust, “I want you so terribly it hurts.” 

 The act is far more beautiful than you could have ever expected- it feels like putting together two pieces of the same beautiful vase as if it wasn’t fixed or reunited until this exact moment. 

 His movements are slow and careful- he takes his time to ready you completely. Astarion kisses your whimpering lips and his hands are intertwined with yours. 

 It’s odd for him to be entirely in control, but he also loves every second of it. He loves how consumed with you he is.

 Astarion’s eyes are boring into yours with every movement of his hips and every time you blink- he is still watching you with hooded, lustful eyes.

 His own eyelashes flutter and Astarion’s eyes are fighting not to roll back- he wants to see every single second. Astarion wants to enjoy every moment of you.

 You are technically his first too- to an extent. You are the first person he feels something for and wants to be with. 

 Your pulse thrums through his cock and his chest- it’s intoxicating and enduring. You are so real- so undeniably wonderfully alive and it allows him, even if for a moment, to feel like he is alive too.

 You mewl against his mouth, you weren’t expecting so much pinching at the start, but you found it went away quickly- your arms are now wrapped around his neck and he rocks inside of you with a slightly faster pace. His lips coax even more sighs and gasps- his own becoming intermingled as you continue to indulge in one another. 

 You feel utterly full- disgustingly, beautifully, perfectly full. You are on cloud 9 or you may have died and gone to heaven. 

 This feels right- exactly what you had been waiting for. 

 Astarion is experiencing the same emotions- he can barely keep his composure as you kiss him. The mewls and keens that leave your lips are some of the most melodic sounds he has ever heard and you are all his. 

 You feel perfect- he likes the feelings of your hands on him, even if it’s still a complicated feeling. 

 Sex has never felt sacred or safe- he has never been able to forget himself in a way that wasn’t dissociative and here he is, entirely lost in the moment.

 Entirely lost in you.

 He is gasping and sighing shamelessly into your ear with each thrust of his hips. Astarion is fighting to keep is release at bay and it’s a lot harder than he thought it would be. It usually isn’t, but you are a lovely wonderful treat. 

“A-Astarion,” you murmur his name like a prayer with every moan, as if he isn’t the one worshiping you right now. 

 Your heels are digging into his back and your heart beat is erratic. He kisses and nips your neck- struggling with his self control. You smell incredible. 

 When he goes to move away from your neck- one of your hands holds his head in place and he growls in response. Astarion means it more of a warning than anything else- he will end up biting you if you keep him here any longer. You are far, far too tempting.

 You seem to read his mind.

“I-you can- if you want,” 

 It happens so fast, neither one of you really expects it when he sinks his teeth into your neck- his body responds for him and begins to thrust into you erratically. Astarion has both of your hands pinned above your head again and you- in all your inexperience- are trusting him.

 The sounds that leave his mouth as he feeds and ruts inside you are animalistic and oddly enduring- your adrenaline and lust flows through your body. 

 Astarion’s mouth begins to feel warmer as you grow colder and his movements seem almost even more fast and distant with each second he takes from you, but you find you don’t mind. You should, but you don’t. 

 Your cries are guttural, hushed, and filled with pleasure- your legs are shaking around his waist and he can feel your life essence getting weaker and weaker. 

 It is becoming harder and harder to move away with each gulp of blood he takes, but he knows he needs to stop before he kills you on accident. 

 It feels physically painful to do so- not even necessarily because he is hungry, but because it made him feel truly connected to you on every single level. Astarion has never been given the pleasure of doing that before. 

“You,” he kisses all over your face as you look up at him lazily, “are so lovely and you have been exceptionally good for me, my Dear.”

 Astarion rolls so you are on top of him again- he knows you need a second to recover and he thinks you may rather enjoy this. 

 He props you up with his core and legs- using his hand to help himself get back inside you while you weakly keep yourself upright. You are a blissed out, wanting, whimpering mess when you finally are sinking back down on him and your hands are on either side of his head.

 Your eyes are blown wide with lust, blood drips down your throat and down your chest, and Astarion wants to remember this moment forever. You look euphoric and your eyes are glossed over from the haze of blood loss and pleasure. 

  Astarion moves his core up and done- thrusting up into you while one of his hands keeps you from moving and the other is tangled in your hair. He wants to see you orgasm- he wants to watch your face when bliss takes you again. 

 It’s beautiful when it does. 

 Your face is peaceful with pleasure, but your eyes are filled with adoration for him, not just lust and hunger-sated. 

 There is no boredom or false infatuation. No Cazador or  looming death right now- just the two of you in your little sanctuary together. 

 A mixture of your rush and his seed coats his navel and it may be the most delicious feeling in the whole world. The sound of your bodies is positively filthy and he is thankful you are still caught up in your haze because there is no way no one didn’t hear the events that have transpired in your tent.

 He pulls you down to his chest, your legs are shaking around his waist and he’s slightly worried he may have done too much for your first time. However, you are lazily kissing his cheek and along his jaw so you certainly don’t seem displeased.

 “Thank you,” you whisper, “this is what I envisioned my first time being like.”

“What do you mean?” He whispers back, unsure of why that is. Did you envision being with someone experienced? Beautiful? Easy to manipulate into sex?

“Being with someone I care about,” you lay your head on his chest and yawn, “with someone I consider my closest and most favorite companion. My friend and…”

 It surprises him immensely and he honestly has no idea how to express his gratefulness, but he is able to respond in a somewhat normal way.

“One and Only Lover?” He offers flirtatiously, “exceptionally charming Vampire? Your deviously handsome rogue?” 

 You sit up weakly, rolling your eyes and place a kiss on his chin before curling back up.

“All of the above.”

“Thank the Gods- I was worried I was going to have to kill Wyll after all.”

 You snort and just shake your head. Your breathing evens out and his hands are playing with your hair- as is the normal routine. 

 The normal routine. 

 Astarion’s smile is massive- he feels happy tears begin to stream down his face and he wipes them away with his free hand. 

 This is his new normal- having sex with you, a person he wants to be with, and cuddling afterwards. He even gets to drink from you.   And he already can’t wait to be with you in such an intimate way again.

Tag list: @preciouslittlebhaalbae @xxgrimripp3rxx @alice4wonderland2812 @therobishow @m1ster1e @tragicdruid @katsutoria @aristenfromwarsaw @avabjorna36 @frankie-mercury @golden-baby

[saigethearies]

saige’s terrortober presents…

offering

unbeknownst to you, zeke has chosen you to be his cult’s next virgin sacrifice. a pining eren knows exactly what he needs to do to save you.

cultist!eren jaeger x fem!reader

contents/warnings: mentions of murder, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, praise, corruption kink, breeding, protective and possessive eren, mentions of ‘purity’

wc: 2k

18+ MINORS DNI

eren felt as if time had frozen around him when the name of the chosen sacrifice tumbled from zeke’s lips.

your name.

you, the kind girl from his english lecture.

you, who gives him a pencil when he forgets his own.

you, who explains assignments to him with patient words.

you, who shares whatever snack you’ve brought without hesitation.

you, with your soft smile and sweet laugh, who was going to be cut to death on the altar zeke stood behind this upcoming equinox.

“she’s a virgin?” floch’s grimy voice pulled eren back to reality, and it took every ounce of the self-control that already came scarce to him to refrain from knocking the ginger’s teeth in. “could have had me fooled, way too pretty for her cherry not to be popped.”

zeke chuckled at floch’s remark. “my source is never wrong, she’s completely pure. she probably will be our cutest offer yet, though.”

they were gonna kill you, he was supposed to kill you. eren thinks about you when he falls asleep, when he wakes up, and all the hours in between. his little crush that’s been festering since the beginning of the semester would come to a thrilling conclusion when he hands his brother the dagger.

he couldn’t let it happen.

to hell with the brotherhood, he wouldn’t let them take you away from him.

eren knew the sacrifice always had to be a virgin, that was the one golden rule since the founders first drew blood centuries ago.

ascending up the hidden catacomb’s stairs after zeke adjourned the meeting, eren already had his plan mapped out- he just couldn’t tell if he was thinking more with his brain or his dick.

it was time for him to make you unqualified.

____

“thanks for offering to tutor me, i really need it,” eren said with a smile, opening the door to his room.

“it’s no problem! i needed something to do this afternoon, anyways!”

you had that smile on your face again, a little twinkle in your eye as you looked up at him. damn, you were so beautiful. he hoped he could pull this off.

within a few minutes, the two of you were sitting on his bed, you holding a textbook open in your lap as you pointed to different literary techniques. eren’s gaze kept drifting off of the pages and onto the exposed skin of your legs, little skirt you were wearing riding up as you sat.

you trailed off in your description of a motif when you felt a warm hand on your thigh. blinking, you turned to see eren’s face extremely close.

“...is everything okay?” you asked slowly, face heating up. men were never in your personal space like this, much less one as attractive as eren. the proximity was causing you to become flustered.

you tried to stand, get some distance between the two of you, only to trip and land right on eren’s lap. your startled eyes met his shining sea green ones, and the urge to kiss him surged through you.

eren knew he was about to have you right where he wanted, having enough past flings to know the tells of a woman. he just needed to give you one more little push, one more and then he can put his plan into motion.

bringing a hand to cup your cheek, he spoke to you softly. “can i kiss you?”

“i…”

“we don’t have to do anything if you’re uncomfortable,” he said, stroking your face tenderly as if your life wasn’t currently hanging in the balance.

eren’s care felt genuine to you and your eyelids fluttered shut, leaning your lips up to meet his. the kiss was careful, eren gently applying pressure as if he didn’t want to do too much and scare you away.

you felt a shiver run down your spine when his tongue slid into your mouth, trying not to make your lack of experience obvious as he explored the wet cavern.

a hand going under your skirt, however, had you jolting. grabbing eren’s wrist before he could go further, you broke away from his lips with a pant. “wait!”

“what is it?” he asked, already knowing full well what the answer would be.

“i’ve never…you know…” you trailed off, and something about the look on his face told you that he understood perfectly.

“do you want to?”

please say yes, say yes so he can protect you.

you bit your lip, unsure. you knew nothing about sex, and the unknown was always nerve wracking to you. on the other hand, you had this nice, handsome guy that you were already acquainted with offering to take your virginity.

not many girls get this type of opportunity…

you nodded. “yeah, can we please just go slow?”

“of course, princess, we can go as slow as you want.”

it didn’t matter how you wanted it, all that mattered was that eren’s cock got to split your virgin cunt open.

his fingers resumed their trek up your inner thigh, tracing the outline of your panties.

“i’m gonna prep you first, okay, baby? make it hurt less.”

“okay,” you replied, breath hitching when you felt eren’s thumb slide into your underwear, immediately going to rub circles into your sensitive nub.

the stimulation had you jerking instantly, not familiar with the pleasure that was being inflicted on you.

“oh-oh!”

“that feel good?” he asked, sliding a finger into your pussy that was growing slicker by the second.

“mhm.”

this felt so much different than from when you’d play with yourself, not realizing how electrifying it was to have fingers between your folds that weren’t yours.

he added his index finger into your pussy, dark desire twisting his insides at how tightly you clamped on that one finger. starting to pump in and out slowly, eren cooed at you.

“relax, princess, ‘m gonna take care of you. you’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

you nodded at his words, not knowing the double meaning behind them. eren started to thrust his finger faster, rubbing against your bud with more intent. mewls left your lips at the sensation, humping his hand pathetically.

eren’s eyes were trained on you. the sight of you crumbling and succumbing to a man’s touch for the first time was breathtaking. the brunette was starting to think this could be love.

your thighs were quaking around his hand, slick dripping all over his lap. he relished in the mess, knowing that now you were probably loosened up enough.

“alright, pretty girl,” he kissed underneath your ear. “i think you’re ready for my cock.”

he gently maneuvered you off of his lap and onto his bed, lowering you down with so much care it made your throat feel tight. tugging your panties off before taking his own shirt off, he looked down at you.

“can you show me those pretty titties, princess?”

you blinked up at him dreamily, obeying his command as your shirt joined his on the floor. not even a second had passed after your bra fell from your shoulders when his large hands were cupping your breasts, squeezing at them in a way that had your eyes screwing shut.

“eren!”

he gave you a little kiss on your forehead as he leaned over you, palms leaving your chest as he grabbed a pillow to place under your hips. you took a deep breath, trying to settle your jittery nerves as you observed eren remove the rest of his clothing.

eren stopped you when you tried to take your skirt off.

“leave it.”

he pushed it out of the way, your glossy cunt appearing. the view of you completely naked with just your skirt bunched around your waist had eren’s mind shortcircuiting. he wanted to burn this image into his memory forever, and knowing he would be the first person to ever see you like this was even better.

if he had it his way, he’d be the only.

spreading your thighs open wider, eren slotted himself in between them. he grabbed hold of your hips, bringing them closer in a way that had your whole body being dragged down the bed. you yelped at his display of strength.

“sorry, princess,” he said with a sheepish smile. his tip prodded at your entrance. “deep breath f’ me, okay?”

the way he pierced you open was addicting, every inch of his dick spearing your virgin walls had your toes curling. you didn’t expect penetration to feel this good the first time. all your friends told you it would hurt the first several tries, but leave it to eren jaeger to throw you for yet another loop.

you felt his pubic bone become flush against yours.

“taking all of me your very first go? such a good fucking girl, damn.”

it was done. your virginity was his. zeke could no longer butcher you on that cold, stone altar in front of his whole brotherhood. eren had never felt so proud of himself, the knowledge that his girl was now safe and sound due to his plan had his skin tingling in excitement. he tightened his grip on your hips, trying so hard to keep himself grounded. he had promised you slow.

yet, as always, you proved to be heaven-sent.

“eren,” you babbled to him. “move, please! wan’ you to move.”

the frenzied gleam in his eye made your pussy throb. the brunette wasted no time in listening to your plea, bucking into you like his life depended on it- oh, the irony.

you screamed out, hands flying to fist the sheets beside you as eren kept your pelvis locked in place, subject to thrust after thrust of his cock. the pleasure was already swirling inside you as if it was a tornado, the high that was building from earlier now picking back up its rise.

“feel so good, so good, fuck.”

never had he been in a cunt this warm and tight. eren intended on molding it to the shape of him, ruining it for anyone else. he’d make sure you wouldn’t even want anyone else.

“perfect, princess,” he grit out. “fucking perfect pussy.”

his praise and pace made you feel lightheaded, falling further into the haze of ecstasy he was shrouding you in. you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“i-i think ‘m close…”

“yeah? me too baby.”

with the way you were gripping him, it was a miracle eren hadn’t already busted. he angled his hips to hit even deeper, adding a finger to your clit again in hopes of finishing the both of you off.

“where do you want me?”

your answer shocked him. “inside!”

fuck, you were gonna be the death of him.

“my princess wants to be filled up, huh?”

who was he to deny you?

one final plunge into your walls timed perfectly with the rub of his thumb had you clenching hard on his dick, muscles spasming as you orgasmed. eren was spurred into his own climax, spilling into you. his eyes were glued to your face, your cockdrunk expression almost enchanting to him as he watched you fall apart.

slowly pulling out, the brunette was in awe at his cum leaking out of you. deciding to worry about his sheets later, he crawled up the bed to see your drooping eyes.

laying down next to you, eren engulfed your frame with his. he held your head against his chest as you drifted off, exhaustion taking over.

____

zeke put his book down as he heard his phone ping, surprised to see he had gotten a text from eren. his brother hardly ever messaged him.

his interest was piqued even more when he saw it was a picture.

opening the image, however, had zeke wanting to chuck the device across the room.

while eren made sure to have the covers pulled up enough, the blonde could still tell it was you from your side profile resting on his brother’s torso.

another ping.

“you might need to pick a new offering, my bad.”

zeke knew the smug bastard didn’t feel guilty in the slightest.

____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

[4everhyucks]

— 6:08PM

cw. dubcon, sacrilegious themes, manipulation, loss of virginity, creampie.

it is just another sunday morning of you going to church, secretly glancing the cute boy standing at the front row while the priest reads from the gospel. it’s been a couple months since you found out that you developed a tiny crush on him despite not knowing a single thing about him, only overhearing some of his conversations with his friends on accident. that was how you got to know his name as well. you decided today will be the day to confess your love to him. you don’t really expect anything out of it when you do, just wanting to be honest with your own feelings.

when the church starts to clear out, you hurry over to him before he could leave, softly tapping on his shoulder, “mark.”

he turns around to meet your eyes, you’ve never once stood so close to him, suddenly noticing all his beautiful facial features.

“hey,” mark is giving off an awkward energy, barely noticeable, considering you both have certainly not interacted before. he adds, “do we know each other..?”

“no,” you’re quick to respond, “no we don’t, but i have something to uh tell you.”

“i’m all ears.”

you gathered up your courage and told him that you have a thing for him, you didn’t get to say much as he cut you off halfway, “so you like me?” he says, voice sounding cocky for no reason.

“yes- no- wait, i mean yeah! i do but i don’t uhm want anything from this, i’m just telling you, you know? you can forget about it, it’s not really that important.. it’s not like i wanted us to be together or anything,” you feel so tense, like every hair on your skin is standing up straight, you laugh lightly after you realise you have been rambling a whole lot. this is your first time confessing to someone, you’re not quite sure how to do it but you’re sure that you probably messed this one up.

mark didn’t give you a reply of any sort as he pulls you by your wrist into the confessional. you’re stunned by his actions, wondering why he brought you in here. you’re even more stunned when he stepped in too, tugging the curtains closed.

“what are we doing in here?” you nervously question him, standing together in such a close proximity is making you lose your mind. you can feel the warmth of his body on your cold skin.

“baby,” the word rolling off his tongue so smoothly like he’s used to calling you that. he places both his hands on your waist gently, slotting his knee in between your legs. you’ve never had someone touch you before, but it felt nice, it felt good.

“mark,” you whimper when he lifts his knee up higher until it hits your core. from the moment you opened your mouth to initiate a conversation, he knew you weren’t the type to go for parties, to go get laid and come for church to accommodate your sins. you’re actually as innocent as you look, and mark loves girls like you.

“yeah?” his replies, voice so gentle while moving your hips for you to grind on his thigh.

“feels- weird..” you mutter, fingers gripping onto his arm for balance.

“weird? how?” he asks, honestly not caring about what your response would be. before you could give him an answer, he adds, “want me to stop?”

you hastily shake your head. mark’s smirking when he sees your mouth dropping open. the sounds that leaves your lips made mark extremely aroused as he dips his head in your neck, the smell of your perfume intoxicating him, making his mind go hazy.

as if mark never noticed you every single time he showed up for church, the prettiest girl in the room, wearing the skimpiest sundresses known to humankind. he keeps finding himself jerking off to the thought about you whenever the hem of your dress flies up a little too high, giving him a whole view of your cute panty. on some days it’s baby blue, on some days it’s light pink with polka dots on it. all so innocent.

god must be on his side, for making his dream a whole fucking reality. he didn’t even need to try and here you are, handing yourself to him on a silver platter.

mark stops his movements when he feels your wetness soaking through his jeans. you are pushed up against the uncomfortable wooden prickly wall in the confessional as mark pulls your dress up, mouth salivating at the sight of your panty, white with a little pink bow on it. holy shit, you’re just so pure, way too pure for someone so dirty and corrupted like him.

“mark wait—” you softly hold his hands when he was about to touch your private part, snapping him out of his thoughts for just a moment but he’s already thinking of ways to let you let him have it his way.

“you like me right?” he tugs a strand of hair behind your ear when you nod, “this is what people do when they like someone.”

“does that mean you like me too?” you ask, gazing up at him with the most innocent looking eyes ever

mark hums, ignoring your question, “you’re so pretty, so so pretty.” and when he feels your hand leaving his, he wastes no time at all, shoving his fingers through your folds. you’re so wet, pussy dripping with arousal. you have both palms over your mouth, trying to stop the weird noises that were coming out on their own.

“does this feel weird?” he wants you to talk regardless of your hands blocking your mouth. “answer me baby.”

you slowly retreat your hands, “n-no, feels good..” accidentally letting out a moan when mark curls his fingers in you. shit you sound so angelic, and he wants to hear more.

“want me to make you feel even better?” he suggests. being the easily trusting person you are, you nod again with no hesitation. he slips his fingers out of you, placing them on your lips, “open up baby.” and you did so obediently, tasting your liquid with your tongue when he pushes his fingers through your lips.

mark unbuttons his jeans quickly, pulling his cock out of his briefs, lazily pumping it with his tip on your clit. you gag when his fingertips hit the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes. he retrieves his wet fingers, grabbing the bottom of your thigh, pushing it up to your chest. he glances down at your dripping soft cunt as he lines his painfully hard cock at your entrance, unable to hold out any longer.

“mark im scared,” your voice is shaking, you don’t think something that big could ever fit inside of you. you’re afraid that you might break, but mark wants to break you.

“don’t be scared baby, i promise it’ll feel real good.” already pushing the tip in, the stretch is unbearable, but you wanted to do your best, you didn’t want to disappoint him, you wanted him to feel good.

“so tight- taking me in so well,” mark huffs as he sinks his length into you all the way to the base, “see, wasn’t so bad right?” he lifts his eyes to meet yours, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. mark didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder than it already was, but it did.

“fuck- try to stay quiet baby,” he immediately starts moving after rushing his words.

“ahh i-i can’t,” despite trying so hard, gasps and whines kept slipping through your lips.

mark leans in close as he hungrily plants his lips on yours, swallowing down your pretty moans while he’s sucking on your tongue, groaning whenever your walls tighten up around his cock. while one of his hands are on the back of your thighs, his other is found wrapped around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter by the second. oxygen is getting cut out of your lungs and with the way mark is pounding into you, it’s impossible for you to get a word out, much less a sentence. you can feel your knees starting to give out. you place your hands on either sides of marks’ shoulder, hoping he’ll go slower on you.

when mark parts away from your lips to let you breathe, you cough a little, “mark, i’m feeling weird again..”

“just relax,” he says, picking up his pace, he’s so close to finishing too.

with just a few more thrusts, you moan his name out loud as your body trembled, unable to control the volume of your voice. mark grunts at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him, letting out strings of curses as he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

“at least there’s something for me to look forward to during church sundays now,” you hear him say, feeling on cloud nine, mistaking his lust for love. never realising that mark did not once called you by your name.

[missmonsters2]

—ADRONITIS | One

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday's quite aware she has no people skills, but that doesn't stop her from wondering why she can't know everything about one person immediately.

Warnings: None.

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Count: 1.9k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Adronitis: noun. The frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Everyone who knows Wednesday can confidently say she's not a people person, and even Wednesday herself can tell you she's not. People are strange, annoying, emotional creatures that she's fairly certain she lacks a particular trait to handle. 

Of course, some individuals have unfortunately made it past her prickly walls. Her roommate and begrudgingly best friend, Enid, can be tolerated in longer spurts. Eugene is just another Pugsley, so she has to look after him. She supposes Xavier isn't dreadful to deal with. Now. 

Would Wednesday commit first-degree murder for them? Yes, but that's not the point. 

The point—what was the point? 

Wednesday internally huffs with annoyance. She's an articulate person, but lately, she isn't. 

Reluctantly, Wednesday's eyes trail to the side, where she sees her reason for inarticulation. 

"Ah, so this is why you're sitting in the courtyard today," Enid smiles innocently, but Wednesday can see the knowing look in her eyes and purses her lips in a scowl as her eyes return to her book. She's finally gotten her hands on Goody's spellbook, and she's been trying to finish reading it for weeks. 

But alas...she's been...distracted.

"I don't blame you," Enid sighs as she looks over to where Wednesday was just gazing. "Everyone's looking at our resident Faerie. I wish she'd sit at our table today."

Wednesday silently agrees but tells herself she didn't. But she did. It's been nearly a week since you've sat with their tiny group of weirdos. Heroes, but weirdos. 

Today, you're sitting with the fangs, and Wednesday just can't fathom why. She gets your little rotation schedule, but vampires were so overrated, and from the small conversations she's heard here and there—incredibly boring.

Who cares about their diet? Wednesday thinks they lack innovation if their only choices are humans or animals (because, quite frankly, another outcast could kick their ass).

Yet, you sit there, smiling serenely and nodding with genuine interest. You ask questions and laugh at their witless jokes, and it drives Wednesday crazy.

Wednesday doesn't understand your sense of humor. Although, no one understands Wednesday's sense of humor either. That's usually the pattern. Sometimes, it feels like you and she are two sides of the same coin. 

You're both very different at Nevermore. While you're both outcasts within the outcasts, it's not the same. Whereas Wednesday didn't understand people, and they didn't gravitate toward her, people seemed to argue for your time.

Hence, why you sat at a different lunch table every day. 

Wednesday's mind drifts as she frowns. There's little known about Faeries as they're usually recluses, and there are so few of them. Especially night faeries. 

But now, it makes her wonder. Are Faeries like sirens? Do they lure everyone in their proximity without choice? That would certainly make more sense on Wednesday, and it would explain her recent behavior. 

Wednesday frowns deeper. Principal Weems has already sternly told others that while the Faeries are extremely beautiful and charming, they have no such powers. 

So, Wednesday was at a loss. She was beginning to think this school was designed to be the bane of her existence. Unwillingly, her gaze drifted again, but this time, you turned your head simultaneously and caught her eye.

You smile soft and sincere but unobtrusively at her, and Wednesday looks away, her face impassive. 

It wasn't unusual. 

This was exactly how all her interactions with you went. Very often, no words are exchanged, but you smile and wave at her as you pass by in the hallways. You greet her warmly when you sit at their table or in class. 

"Your unhappy face is showing," Enid points out, a slight upward quirk on her lips as she bites into her sandwich.

"This is always my face," Wednesday deadpans. 

"No, it's not," Enid shakes her head confidently. If there's one thing Enid can say, she stares at Wednesday a lot, so she knows her roommate very well. "You tilt your chin down and glare through your eyebrows more than look through them. It's very protruding," Enid points directly at Wednesday's eyebrow and forehead. "See? Unhappy face."

Xavier is looking at her through his apple, using it to shield how he's holding back his laughter as he grins at her. 

Wednesday relaxes her brows, her eyes becoming less narrow before she raises her brow at Enid. "Then what face is this?" The werewolf ponders her roommate's face and then sighs like she's been chastised. 

"General distaste," Enid mutters, but then she brightens as she looks up. "Oh, Fae is coming over here!" 

"Why do you insist on calling her that when she has a name?" Wednesday asks. You never seem mad about it, and it's not like Wednesday would care if people walked around calling her witch instead of Wednesday, but it's another thing she doesn't understand.

"Hm," Enid hums. "I guess it just became a nickname when she came. I mean, I guess it's kind of weird to call someone by their creature name...should we try to come up with a new one for her?"

"Whatcha guys talking about?" You smile as you approach. You've got a grape lollipop in your mouth given to you by one of the shapeshifters. Xavier and Eugene move over so you can sit down, directly facing Wednesday. "Hi, Wednesday," you say her name so casually, staring at her until Wednesday nods in acknowledgment. 

She's tense as she grips the edge of her book tightly. Her eyes are steadfastly attached to the pages even if she's not reading them. 

"We're talking about how everyone started to call you Fae," Enid grins, her smile wide and excited, but then frowns. "I hope it doesn't bother you."

You hum for a long moment, a sound that Wednesday hangs onto. She can see you through her peripherals. You seem in deep thought, and Wednesday can't understand why it's taking you so long to decide whether it bothers you. She wants to tell you to hurry it up so she—they can have the answer.

"I supposed it started when one of the psychics saw me in person, and all he could stutter out was 'Fae' over and over," you shrug.

"Feeble-minded," Wednesday mutters, and you smirk at her, and now she's wondering what exactly that could mean. 

"It doesn't bother me," you continue on. "I mean, I guess it's fine since there are no other faeries at the school, but it might be confusing when there are. I can't exactly go around calling on a person wolfy when that could be any of the werewolves here."

They all nod, except Wednesday.

"We should try to find a new nickname for you!" Eugene exclaims, emboldened by your friendliness to him. "How about nightcrawler!"

"As enchanting as that is, I'm going to have to veto that one," you give him a wry smile. He slumps in defeat while Xavier gives in a pat on the back.

"Oh," Enid squeals excitedly, and Wednesday shirk and winces at the sound. "We could all try to find a new nickname for you until we get the right one!"

"And why should we if Fae says it doesn't bother her?" Xavier asks as he turns over and gives you what Wednesday believes he thinks is a boyish smile. 

"Spoken like a true simpleton," Wednesday cut in, still not looking up. "Will that be your new nickname?"

"Ouch," Xavier laughs, the insult falling off his back. Although, he doesn't doubt that's his contact name on Wednesday's phone. "Alright, I get it. Fine, the person who gets their nickname chosen gets Fae's number. How's that?" He looks over to you, and Wednesday snaps her head up, finally to look at you too. 

You seem pensive. Another thing Wednesday knows but doesn't understand. It's getting irritating with how many things are adding up that Wednesday wants to know now and can't. 

Nobody in the school has your number though they all see you on your phone as you stroll down the hallway. Wednesday has heard you turning people down when they ask for your number, citing how there've been too many requests, and the number of texts or calls you'd get would be too overwhelming. So, now it's been an unspoken rule between the school that no one gets your number if they cannot all have it. 

You peer over at Wednesday, and she doesn't flinch away from your gaze. She refuses to lose whatever staring game you've created.

"Okay," you acquiesce, staring at Wednesday for a moment longer before standing up. "I'll see you guys in class. I'm going to see if the shapeshifters have more grape lollipops. They're my favorite."

Grape lollipops are your favorite. Is it just the lollipop, or is it grape in general?

"Well, this should be fun," Enid bounces her seat before she looks at Eugene. "I'm going to have to say it's looking unlikely for you, bud."

"I have more ideas!" Eugene protests.

"Never accept defeat," Wednesday looks back at her book, inwardly frowning when she's still on the same page she's been trying to read for the last 20 minutes. "Would be an acceptable suggestion for me. Accept defeat in this case, Eugene."

There's more bickering at the table while Enid bumps her shoulder against Wednesday. "So? Are you going to try to come up with something and get Fae's number?" 

"No, it's a trivial matter. Why would I want it? The only time I ever use my phone is when you've dragged me into your 24/7 addiction and Xavier cries for my attention."

"I do NOT cry—"

"So, I have no need for it."

Plus, would you expect her to text you if she had your number? Would she even want to text you? Wednesday supposes it'd be an equal trade of information, so you'd have her number too. Should she expect you to text her?

Wednesday glances in her peripheral and sees you with another lollipop as you sit with the shapeshifters. You've got an apple in your hand, but you look at it blandly. 

Not a fan of apples, then?

Wednesday feels annoyance gnaw at her insides. It's not irregular for Wednesday to sometimes show interest in others. Knowing others is valuable information that can be used at a later date.

But why in the hell does it take so long to get to know someone? Why can't Wednesday just know all your deep, dark secrets first and then make her way out to the trivial things?

"What a shame," Enid sighs casually, looking straight ahead, but her eyes tilt to the side to stare at her gloomy roommate. "I think having a phone and texting is great! It's way faster to get to know someone over text since you can always be in communication. You know what else is a thing? At 2AM, people lower their guard down, and they're more likely to spill secrets."

Wednesday slams her book shut, standing up and leaving briskly.

Research is needed. Her father has few skills, but one of them is coming up with nicknames. That skill should undoubtedly pass on to her. 

Wednesday glances at you as she walks out of the courtyard. You look over at her and smile with a wave before turning back to your conversation.

Defeat is not in Wednesday's vocabulary. She will beat the constraints of time and know everything there is to know in haste. There will be victory, and it will be hers.

PART TWO

[catflowerqueen]

Thinking about a hypothetical “soulmate-identifying marks” In Stars and Time au… and I think a good possibility for it might be if each country had its own version of the mark, and that if you had a soulmate from another country, you would also gain that version, too. So, like… given how important flowers are in Vagaurde, maybe they have something like a picture of a flower that will grow and eventually bloom once they meet all their soulmates/recognize and accept the soulmate connection. Ka Bue could have gemstones.

And the Forgotten Country could have the ability to see colors.

Assuming that soulmate families can be extremely large, it would make sense for the colorblindness to be a widespread phenomenon—especially if the marks are less “country” specific and run more along the lines of genetics. People from the same country would have similar genetics, but as more people moved, migrated, and travelled around having kids and starting families with people from other cultures and regions, the different soulmark types would also spread. So, like… Odile would have had something like a 50/50 chance on getting either the gem or the flower, and happened to get the gem from her dad’s side of the family. Or maybe she did get the flower, and that just helped to deepen the issues she had with her dual heritage.

But with how widespread genetics and soul families would be… that means you have more chances that a person’s soulmark would be the color thing. Or that one of their soulmate’s marks would be the color thing. To the point where a good portion of the world simply couldn’t see color anymore. Or, at least, a good portion of Vaguarde, and possibly Ka Bue, couldn’t, given their close proximity to the Forgotten Country and the higher likelihood of intermarriages and immigration happening between those two cultures.

Or it is simply that the nature of the memory-altering stuff going down with that country simply made people forget how recently the inability to see colors happened, or the loss of knowledge made them forget the mechanics of that particular soulmark so they just assume it is more widespread than it actually is, or it became more widespread than it should have because it is a lot harder for someone to declare and accept a soulmate connection if they can’t perceive that something is wrong—can’t read a name written in the country’s language, can’t recognize a flower or gem native to the country, can’t remember a soulmate who happened to be living in or visiting the country at the time of the tragedy…

And it could also be as simple as a case of a language barrier—other countries not realizing that “shade” is not synonymous with “color” as far as translations go, or simply thinking the two words mean the same thing. Like the whole “roses are red, violets are blue” thing, if the original language simply didn’t distinguish between blue and purple. Thinking that perhaps someone describing something as “lightless” is just them using their country’s word for the color “black,” not realizing that something else is going on.

So in the case of Siffrin and co., they would all have to rely on seeing their own flowers/gems/whatever showing up somewhere on Siffrin’s skin to be able to recognize them as being part of the soul family, because they would more than likely not be able to recognize his own mark—the flower or gem or name that represents him—on their own skin given that it would more than likely take the form of something from the Forgotten Country.

But once they finally do… their whole world would explode into color once more.

…And one could assume the whole red sky deal was just because reality was literally breaking around them at that point, and had nothing to do with soulmarks or soulmates at all.

[thezombieprostitute]

Cops and Robbers

A/N: This is entirely unlike anything I've written before. This is written for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar. I'm using the following prompts:

🍧Black Cherry: enemies to lovers – a dark flavour has a sweet tang. So your characters go from one extreme to the other, hate to love.  🍧Rocky Road: rags to riches – it's been a long road. Cinderella, a lottery winner, a sudden inheritance. You decide how your character gets their windfall.  🍧French Vanilla: stranded/locked in - vanilla, but make it fancy. Forced proximity to the max. Whether your characters have to work together to escape or survive, or just need to wait out the night, they’re stuck together.  🥄Toasted Almonds: heartbreak – your character is going through a heartbreak 

Word Count: ~3k (I think this is the longest one-shot I've ever written!)

A/N2: Character is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Corruption, Implied murder, Mild violence, Talk of sex trafficking, Theft. Please let me know if I missed any!

You know you shouldn't be here. You're a wanted woman in this county. Wanted by law enforcement and the people who buy law enforcement. It's dangerous to be here. But you can't bring yourself to stay away. Your great-aunt Mabel was the only person who ever loved and supported you. Attending her funeral is the least you can do for her. Even if you're watching from afar, sticking to the tree line, well away from the grave-site.

Everything was paid for by you. Again, it was the least you could do. But you couldn't trust the funeral home to not let the authorities know it was you. If you're lucky, they'll think you gave them the money and ran. But luck is not reliable so you're staying amongst the trees, finally letting yourself cry at the loss.

That's how you missed the Sheriff sneaking up on you. That and his surprisingly light steps. For a man his size, he sure as hell knew how to watch his steps.

He places a hand on your shoulder, startling you. “Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to come with me.”

“Is this official or off the books?” If he was doing this for the criminals he'd been bought by, you'd risk running off or getting shot. But official capacity work meant some legal protections.

“I'm arrestin' you under suspicion of robbery at the Governor's Mansion.” His hand squeezes your shoulder, a warning not to run. His tone was level, professional even. You nod your head and let him cuff you before getting to his car.

Inside the police station Lee walks you to a holding cell. Your existence has been a thorn in his side for years and he'd love nothing more than to lock you in jail and throw away the key. But you're also good press, which the local police need. That means he has to make sure you're not too roughed up. So if he has to play the gentleman for a while, he will.

At least when you were just stealing from Dunlap's crew he could tell them to fuck off. He's done a lot of bad things for them but hunting down someone who, in the public eye, had done nothing else wrong? It would look too suspicious, no matter how much they paid him.

Then you hit the Governor's place. Must've been one hell of a payday given the quality loot you picked up. That got him heat not just from Dunlap but from the damn Governor as well. You caused a lot of late nights, paperwork and black eyes.

He orders the closest deputy to get you processed then put you in the updated interrogation room. It had all the latest recording gadgetry and whatnot so it would reduce the likelihood of your testimony being dismissed because of some clerical error.

Getting to his desk he sits down and dials the Governor. He's not surprised when he gets the assistant instead. “Do me a favor, Darlin' and let Ol' Jim there know we got the thief. Just gotta get her processed and then I'll be gettin' a confession.”

When he finishes with that he dials up Dunlap. “I got the thief, but you an' yours gotta keep away until she's in lock up. Anything goes wrong with this and you're out a sheriff. Be patient and you'll get her but I gotta do a bunch o' shit by the book right now.” Lee hangs up before Dunlap can respond.

You're sitting in the cold, sterile interrogation room, handcuffed to the table. You're barely able to recognize yourself in the two-way mirror because of how puffy your eyes got from crying. The deputy assigned to process you tried to comfort you, thinking you were crying out of fear. You didn't bother to correct him. You're glad Aunt Mabel never saw you in custody.

The door opens and Bodecker walks in with a small stack of files. He sits across from you, leaning back, eye you up. You glance back at the door and he tells you, “ain't no use lookin' for a way out, darlin'. That door is locked from the outside. Only one of my men can let you outta here.” You nod your understanding.

“So, you gonna make this easy for me and go ahead and confess to the robbery of Governor James Williams?” You remain silent, fidgeting with your cuffs. “Figured as much,” he gripes as he opens one of the files. “We got your fingerprints on the doorknob. We got testimony that you were in the area. And you're the only one with the skills to break into that safe.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Sheriff,” you reply. “What are these skills you think I have and what makes you think I have them?”

He gives you a glare, “we got reliable witnesses that say you're damn good with a lockpick.” Left unspoken is that those witnesses are Dunlap's crew. That you stole from them what they had stolen from others. That they couldn't report anything missing or stolen because then suspicion would be on them.

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Sheriff.” You're no fool. You know you're being recorded. You know their admissible evidence is circumstantial at best. Just keep calm. Keep denying.

“Alright,” Lee sighs as he stands, gathering up his files. “I'll just let you sit in here for a while longer and think these things through.” He walks over to the door and knocks twice. When it doesn't open right away, Lee turns towards the door and bangs on it a couple of times, not happy to me made to look like a fool. The peephole slides open and Lee is taken aback at the sight of Dunlap himself.

“Well ifn' it ain't the thief and the traitor,” Dunlap chuckles darkly. “And both trapped in here like the rats ya are. See, Bodecker, we've gone and sent all your boys home. Ain't nobody here what can open this door. We're gonna leave the two of you in here overnight and, come morning, one of you'll be dead. The other will have been recorded per the camera watchin' y'all and we'll be making copies to keep safe. So long as the survivor behaves.”

You quickly glance to Lee's belt and notice he isn't wearing his holster. No gun, you might have a chance.

“You sunnova bitch,” Bodecker bangs the door, hurting his fist. Dunlap laughs before closing the slider.

Lee sits back down, slamming the files down. “Shoulda known you'd get me in trouble like this. You ain't been nothin' but trouble since you started hittin' their properties.”

“I'm surprised you're not already choking me to death,” you reply coldly. “You've been in their pocket for so long, I figured there was nothing you wouldn't do for them.”

“I have my limits, little missy,” he retorts.

“Yeah, limits that keep you looking good to the public.”

“Limits that help good people keep doing good things,” he argues. “Your Aunt Mabel was one of them good people.”

“Don't you talk about her!” Your outburst is just as surprising to you as it is to him.

Lee sees his advantage and presses, “do you know how many times I had to keep them Dunlap boys from takin' her hostage so they could get to you? Your great-aunt was a pillar in this community. The kind o' person who's disappearance would get everyone up in arms, and they still wanted to use her as bait to get you to stop stealin' from them. I was the only reason they didn't.”

You try not to cry in front of him. You're horrified at the thought that you put Aunt Mabel in danger. “I have no reason to believe you,” you snap at him. “You lie through your teeth all the time for them. Why wouldn't you do so now?”

“Because, as I said before, I got my limits.” He stands and puts his hands on the table, leaning right into your face. “And you're pushing all of 'em right now!”

You smack him so hard he has to sit back down. He'd been so distracted with being angry he hadn't noticed you'd picked your handcuffs with an earring you'd palmed during processing. You toss the handcuffs at him, “I've got my limits, too. I don't kill. Now let's see about finding another way out of here.”

“Good luck with that,” Lee seethes. “That two-way glass can't be broken by the chairs and the table is sealed to the floor. Safety precautions and all that.” You're out of your cuffs so he needs to be even more on guard.

“Such a defeatist attitude,” you chide.

“I'm bein' realistic here,” he counters. “That door can only be opened from outside. It's got electric seals or whatever. There ain't any way to break that mirror. And those are the only two ways outta here!”

“Oh just shut up a minute and let me think,” you yell at him.

The two of you glare at each other for a while before he takes a deep breath and throws his hands up. “Fine. We'll call it a truce until we're truly desperate.”

“Thanks.”

You stand up, rubbing your wrists, and start pacing your side of the small room. You never turn away from Lee, never let him fully out your sight. He might look like he's in a relaxed position but you're not one to underestimate him.

“I'm guessing we're not worried about spilling the beans,” you huff. “Otherwise you never would've admitted half the shit you just did while being recorded.”

“Dunlap's gonna keep the tapes. Ain't nothin' we can say that'll get us in more trouble than we're in already.”

“Do you want to know why I stole from everyone that I did?”

“Meh,” he shrugs. “Might help pass the time until we really snap.”

“I was stealing back the ID's and personal belongings from the girls they were trying to traffic.”

Lee freezes for a moment before looking at you, “what do you mean? They ain't doin' any human trafficking.”

“Oh like you didn't know,” you scoff. “You've been to Leon's Red Motel more than once.”

“Never allowed back there,” he shakes his head. “Only ever allowed to drink at the bar. Said they couldn't have the sheriff seen enterin' a whorehouse.”

“Bullshit, Bodecker. You knew it was whorehouse but you didn't think to ask how they got the girls to work there?”

“They told me it was just girls that was down on their luck, needed the money,” he says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, they were down on their luck because they'd been kidnapped. Their identities got stolen and used for fake ID's to sell to rich kids. Helping them escape was...easy enough. But they needed help getting home. They needed money and ID. So I stole from the people who stole everything from them.”

“Then why'd you hit the Governor's place? That's the part that never made no sense to me.”

“I'm genuinely surprised he called that in.” You stop your pacing and look at Lee. “That safe I hit was full of his own bribes from Dunlap and others like him. The cash he kept off the books and used when he didn't want to get audited. Largest payday I ever made.” Your tone softens, “got to help a lot of people and sent Aunt Mabel a check every month.”

“She said you'd promised to send her money from the new job you told her you got.”

“She didn't need to know it's source. Just needed the cash to know I was alive and doing well.”

“Funeral director said you'd paid everything in cash.”

“More difficult to trace, of course. Not too surprised he turned me in. He tried to overcharge for everything and I called him out on it.”

Lee chuckled at that, “he shoulda known better than to try that with a bitch like you.”

“Damn right,” you say with a half smile. “Aunt Mabel didn't raise me to get walked all over, no matter how distracted I am.” A tear runs down your cheek and you're unable to wipe it away before Lee sees.

“She was a good woman,” Lee nods.

Silence falls over the two of you. You're unsure of how much time has passed but the angry tension between you and Bodecker seems to have calmed a smidge.

“I'm gonna go ahead and examine this door, then the mirror,” you tell him. “Can I trust you not to attack me while I'm doing so?”

“I fully support you findin' a way outta here where neither of us has to die,” Lee informs you. “So I'll happily keep from attackin' you. I'll even let you cuff me to the table if'n you need, provided you promise to pick the lock for 'em to get me out again.”

You nod, “I'll consider it. For now, door.”

Lee nods and, as a sign of his intentions to not attack, moves himself so he's on the opposite side of the room as you.

You look the door over for almost an hour. You turn back to Lee, “what all do you have in your pockets? I've got an idea, but I need to know what I've got to work with.”

“Not much,” Lee admits. He pulls out a couple of pens, his wallet and badge.

“More than what I've got.” You look over everything and the plan starts forming. “You said that the door is electrically sealed, right?”

“Sumthin' like that. Never really learned the actual details,” he confesses.

“The fun thing about doors like this, they ain't as strong as they look. It's a heavy door, made from good material, but it's got weak spots.” You grab the unlocked cuffs and, between them and one of Bodecker's credit cards, you're able to work out some of the screws around the sliding peephole. You use some leverage with the handcuffs and are able open a small gap to the inner workings of the door itself. Not much, but it's a start.

“Holy shit,” you hear Lee mutter.

“Would you be willing to try to pry this open a bit more? Pretty sure you've got the stronger arms here.” You move out of Lee's way as he gets to work with the handcuffs.

Your theory proves true as he has a much easier time prying away a bit at a time. The material is still strong stuff, but with more of the door's interior exposed, the more you can mess with. The more you can mess with, the weaker you can make the whole thing.

“I gotta ask,” Lee grunts as he works at more of the seams. “How d'you know your meddling won't result in the whole thing locking up even worse? Like so that even with the code or whatever it can't open?”

“I don't,” you confess. “But it's not like we've got much choice if we want to stay alive.” He nods in agreement.

When there's finally room for you to work you grab one of the pens from the table. You work carefully to bring some wires out without dropping the pen. Several of them are bundled together and you get them just out of the door's interior, using the pen to keep them from falling back in.

“Now, the odds of this being the bundle we need aren't great,” you tell him.

“But it's what we've got to work with,” he finishes for you. “You want the pin side of my badge to try piercing or cuttin' 'em or do you wanna just try pulling them out?”

“Never thought you were one for pulling out, Sheriff,” you joke. His cheeks turn pink and you're quick to apologize. “I'm nervous so I'm making bad jokes. Sorry.”

He nods in understanding. “How about I just go ahead and pull?”

You step out of his way, hand never leaving the pen so the wires don't drop back in. Lee nimbly grabs the wires with a couple of fingers, all that he can get to fit around them in the small space, and yanks them with all his strength. He doesn't have a lot to work with but the more he pulls, the more give he's getting.

“Try angling your pull,” you tell him. “Pull away from the sides, not just straight up. I think we'll be able to unplug them.”

Lee nods and tries out your strategy. It takes some work but after a bit the two of you hear a small snap and bundle of wires, including their plug, come out. At the same time, you both hear subtle click of the lock.

“That's progress,” you tell him.

“The door ain't openin',” Lee states.

“Not while the latch is still in place,” you concede. “But without that electric seal or whatever, we can bash a chair against where the handle is and break off the latch.”

“And by 'we' you mean 'me' I'm guessin'?”

“Well, you are the big strong Sheriff, right?”

You smile as he huffs, “I'll get to work.”

It takes a while, and several breaks, but eventually the two of you do break the latch and get the door opened. Considering no one yelled or inquired about the loud banging on the door, you both figured no one was around. You were still wary, though. Better safe than dead.

Lee leads you both to his office and he quickly grabs his keys before opening up the door next to the interrogation room. He grabs the camera and smashes the whole thing to pieces.

“No one's gonna get to hear what we talked about,” he mutters.

“So, now what happens? Are you going just going to let a wanted criminal go?”

Lee sighs, “whether you leave or stay, I ain't got much of a life here anymore. Between Dunlap's gang and knowing the Gov is in on it all? I'm a dead man if I don't leave the state.”

“Well, Bodecker, I guess it's a good thing I've got experience helping people escape bad situations.”

“I know we didn't start off on the best foot,” Lee rubs the back of his head nervously, “but I would appreciate the help.”

“Least I can do for your protecting Aunt Mabel. Now let's get the hell outta here.”

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @fluxxdog; @ronearoundblindly

[ghostchems]

the cardinal’s cure - terzo x female!reader

cardinal terzo notices you seem a bit stressed and he has the perfect solution.

author’s note: heavily inspired by @mardyart’s cardinal terzo art! about 2k words. 18+! mdni! this hit me like a brick. ao3 link. shout-out to @angellayercake who encouraged my craziness and also gave me some good ass ideas for this!

“Sorella… what is the matter, eh? Your face looks a bit… long.” 

Your eyes dart to hin, words immediately catching in your throat. Cardinal Terzo stands beside you, his immaculate black robes fitting his figure so well. For a moment, you forget how upset you were but it quickly comes flooding back when you see the concerned look on his face. His raven hair is neatly slicked back and the black paint around his eyes is sharp, the family’s signature white eye shining against the contrast. You fidget with your habit and turn away from him shyly.

“I’m okay, Cardinal. It’s nothing.” You continue collecting the dirty plates for breakfast, carefully putting them into the bin tucked under your arm. You’re not even sure if the cardinal even knows your name but you know he is still lingering behind you and you can feel his eyes on you. You always feel anxious whenever you’re in the same proximity as the Emeritus’ — the power they have in the clergy intimidates you and you’ve never really had any time alone with them. 

And they all have quite the reputation, especially Cardinal Terzo…

His gloved hand catches you by the arm and you nearly drop your bin, a small gasp drawing from your lips. 

“Please, let me help you feel better, mia cara. It would bring me great joy.” Terzo’s voice is as smooth as the leather glove that is holding on to your arm. 

“B-but my duties—“

“Non preoccupati.” His lips twitch into a grin. “Your Cardinale will take care of it.” Terzo’s grip on your arm tightens and he pulls you away from the dining area. You are able to think quickly enough to set your bin on a table on your way out but other than that, all rational thought is gone. 

You practically blink and you are in his lush office. The walls and carpets are all black with some gold and purple accent pieces throughout. He brings you to a purple velvet couch, easing you on to it as he takes a seat beside you. You are extremely aware of how impossibly close the two of you are, his knee pressing into yours.

“Now, Sorella, what is bothering you?” Terzo looks to you intently. 

“I-it’s really nothing.” You stammer as you try to get some space but he’s already so close it hardly does anything. “I-I’ve just been… getting in my own head lately. Stressing over things that I shouldn’t be stressed about.” You sigh and shake your head, wanting nothing more than to sink into the couch. He reaches for your hand and takes it gingerly in his, using his thumb to gently brush the back of it. The touch is extremely soothing and your eyes flutter up to his.

The look on his face is positively sinful. Terzo’s eyes are half-lidded and his lips are parted just enough that you can see his pink tongue and his fangs. He tilts his head at you slowly, then grins wickedly. You feel your cheeks redden and your eyes dart away from him.

“Mmm, sounds like you might need a little, eh… stress relief.” Terzo licks his lips as he slowly moves your hand and presses it against his hard cock through his robes. Noises leave your mouth that don’t resemble words, your cheeks on fire now. Was that what he had planned all along? Your thoughts are interrupted by his nose grazing yours, his hot breath ghosting over your lips. “We can help each other, Sorella.” He whispers huskily as he gazes into your eyes. 

Terzo leaves your hand on his erection and moves to cup your cheek, his fingers drifting along your jaw. His other hand moves to fondle your breasts through your habit and you feel his cock jump from underneath his robe. You’re at a loss for words, your mouth hanging open as he continues to touch you.

“Always so quiet, si? Always so focused on your tasks.” His lips graze your cheek but his eyes stay locked with yours. “I love to watch you, you know. So dutiful. So prim and proper. I’ve often thought of how my cock would look in that pretty little mouth of yours.” Terzo’s hands drift from your breasts down to your hips and then settle on your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. You give a sharp gasp and you feel his cock jump again, your hand firmly pressing against it. 

“And you were so visibly upset today… I truly couldn’t help myself, cara. I needed you the moment I saw you.” His hips roll against your hand, his cock throbbing as he inches in closer to your face. “I’m going to fuck the stress out of you, Sorella.” Terzo sounds completely depraved, his voice low and raspy, and his lips quickly capture yours.

You whine quietly against his lips, melting into the kiss as his tongue licks into your mouth, the smoky cinnamon taste of him causing warmth to pool in your core. Everything he said is making you feel crazed; the fact that he has been watching you and wanting you — 

Your thoughts are interrupted by him breaking the kiss and his hands leaving your ass to move to his cassock, pulling apart the skirt to reveal his pants. He quickly tugs his belt off and unbuttons them, his leaking cock bouncing free.

“Go on, cara.” Terzo’s eyes flit to yours, his pupils blown so wide you can hardly make out the colors of them. You timidly shift to your knees on the couch, your hand moving to grasp at the base as your mouth hovers his leaking head. He growls and grabs you by the top of your habit, forcing your mouth around his throbbing length. 

It hits the back of your throat and you immediately gag, drool spilling from your lips as you give a soft groan. You try to situate yourself but he is relentless, his hand fisted in your habit as he moves you up and down his length. Your nails dig into the fabric of his pants as he fucks your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly making you gag and moan around him. You look up at him through wet lashes, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Satanas.” Terzo chokes out and you can feel his legs tremble beneath you. “It’s e-even better, a-ah… than I could h-have imagined.” He roughly pulls you completely off his cock, a string of spittle connecting your mouth and the tip. You draw in a sharp breath quickly before he’s maneuvering you again. He forces you to your feet and roughly moves you behind the couch, bending you over the back of it. He hikes up your habit and exposes your ass to him, his gloved fingers drifting over the lacy fabric of your panties.

“Do you want this, Sorella?” Terzo purrs as his fingers dip between your legs to press into the already damp fabric. “Do you want me to fuck the stress away?” He removes his fingers and presses his cock against you.

“Y-yes.” You gasp as you push yourself back against his cock. “Yes p-please, Cardinal.” He chuckles darkly behind you and pushes your underwear to the side. 

“Ah, not so quiet anymore, eh?” Terzo growls and grips your hips, his cock pressing against your entrance. “Cara, I am going to make you scream.” He thrusts into you without warning and you cry out, your hands grasping for the couch to steady yourself. The pain is quickly replaced with deep pleasure as he bottoms out and holds himself inside you for a moment. His one hand tightens his grip on your hip with bruising strength and his other splays out on your back, holding you down.

“So tight for your Cardinale.” He hisses then snaps his hips again, even harder this time. The couch wobbles and the sound of the legs scratching against the ground almost drowns out your sob. Terzo works up to a ferocious pace, his cock slamming into you with such force that the couch continues to move across the floor. Your mouth hangs open, drool still spilling out of it as moans spill from your lips.

His cock fills you up in a way you’ve never felt before, your walls clenching around him with each thrust as he drills so deep inside you. Your toes curl in your shoes and you give out a long, deep moan. Terzo removes his hand from your hip only to bring it down hard on your asscheek.

“Fuck!” You gasp as your body lurches from the spanking.

“You like that, cara?” Terzo growls and brings his hand down on your ass again. “Tell your Cardinale that you like it.”

“F-feels so good, Cardinale.” You whine, your nails digging into the couch fabric as he spanks you again and again. Deep moans rumble up from his chest while his thrusts grow more erratic. The wet sounds of him pumping in and out of you fill the room and you push back against him with each thrust. 

The hand on your back moves to grab you by the throat and tugs you so that your back is pressed against his chest. He breathes raggedly against your ear and he squeezes your throat. You can’t help but make a soft squeak, your hands flailing to grip onto his wrist as he pounds into you. His other hand slips down between your legs and he swipes his thumb roughly against your clit.

“A-ah! Terzo!” You choke out, your legs trembling as you feel the tension rise inside you.

“We must cum together, Sorella. We must invoke Him.” His voice is harsh in your ear and he bites at your earlobe. Your back arches against his chest as he starts to swipe his fingers against your clit in time with each bruising thrust. It’s becoming so much for you and you’re hardly hanging on as it is but what sets you over the edge is how he sinks his teeth sharp into your shoulder through your habit.

You scream. You’ve never screamed so loudly during sex. He snarls into your shoulder as his orgasm hits him, his hot seed spilling inside you while he rides through his and your climax. Your trembling so much, your head tipping back against him and your eyes squeezing shut as the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt crashed over you.

Your legs finally give out and Terzo is quick to grab you, moving you over the back of the couch and plops you down on the cushion. He hums contently as he tucks his cock away in his pants and walks around the couch to join you. You feel like you’re seeing stars, your head spinning as he sits down between your legs and hovers over you.

“So?” He grins darkly and runs his hands up and down your hips, sending shivers through your body. “No more stress?” 

“For now.” You whisper and give him a knowing look as you squirm beneath him. Terzo’s face lights up and he sinks down on top of you, pinning you down with his weight. His hand brushes your flushed cheek.

“Well, you’ll just have to find me if it gets to be too much again, si? My door is always open.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “But if I find out that you’re feeling down and you don’t come to your Cardinale, well…” Terzo’s voice drifts off and your cheeks immediately flush and you feel a tinge between your legs. “I’ll just have to cum on that pretty little face of yours.” 

[gremlin-writes-angst]

Lets Get Food Chapter 2

A brothers best friend fic with Asher x darlin fic and angst

2385 words

id still say this is Pg 13 because it has heavy adult topics but i would not consider it descriptive. I try to be clear with my trigger warning so if you think I should raise my rating or add to the trigger warnings let me know

Tw for this chapter: Extreme exhaustion caused by blood loss, vampire feeding, mentions of rough sex, mentions of sleeping around, scars caused by rough sex, mentions of choking, mention of claustrophobia, mentions of non-consensual choking

i highly appreciate criticism on my writing ,spelling, grammar and story telling. Positive and constructive , so let me know what you think and i hope y'all enjoy : )

tagging @achios @professionallyyappinabtangst

The address attached was familiar.

Asher didn't know why at first, and he was hoping it wasn't someone he knew.

The whole drive, he pondered why he knew this address.

Even after parking and looking out at the place, nothing came to mind.

Until he messaged Darlin, he had arrived.

This is the same place he picked them up last time.

Which had never happened.

There were some places, or people, that they visited more than once, but never in a row.

This one was different.

Asher's mood took a fast dive.

But he didn't have time to think about it as Darlin was pulling on the locked door.

Taking a deep breath and putting on a smile as he unlocked the door

“Took you long enough.”

Darlin's tone made it seem like they had plenty of energy.

But Asher knew to look for other signs.

The shaky hands

Paler skin

The way their face looked like it had no muscles

The heavy breathing

The blinks that were closer to short naps

And of course the marked neck

Normally, Darlin hides a few symptoms at a time.

Today they had all of them.

Once the car door was closed and Darlin was safe in Asher's care, they let the exhaustion take over.

As sometimes needed, Ash leaned over to buckle Darlin in.

The smell of another empowered was strong.

It was abnormal.

Even with the activity and proximity of Darlin and their midnight friends. The scent was never this strong.

Whoever lived in that house wanted Darlin to smell like them.

And Asher had a feeling Darlin wasn't aware of it.

When he finished buckling Darlin in, he pulled up to see the marks on their necks.

It wasn't strange to see the marks; it was actually more weird if they didn't have marks.

But this person

They didn't leave anything to the imagination.

Asher knew Darlin liked it on the rough side.

Just from what he'd seen on their skin and the stories they shared

But this was still something different.

Extreme

There were more bites than needed.

If he didn't know better, he'd assume there was more than one vampire.

then The hickeys

It was hard to tell what was a hickey and what was a bruise.

That was what concerned Asher the most.

The finger bruises that indicated they'd been choked

Darlin was claustrophobic

Darlin doesn't like being trapped.

So it would make sense that Darlin doesn't like being choked.

“Would you stop staring?”

Their eyes weren't even open, but they could feel the intense eyes of Asher.

“Sorry”

He should have left it at that, but he couldn't.

“It's just that you have bruises from being choked.”

Keeping still and with their eyes closed, they replied

“Yeah, that happens when you get choked.”

They were clearly annoyed, but it wasn't enough warning for Asher.

“I know I just sort of thought.”

Then they snapped, at least with their voice, the rest of their body still resting.

“Ash, leave it be. Just drive.”

He whispers a sorry as he starts to drive aimlessly.

Typically that was the plan—drive around till Darlin chose the food that spoke to them.

Asher drove around longer than normal. Darlin kept dozing off, but Asher felt like sleeping after that much blood loss, so he kept shaking them awake.

Eventually, Darlin was able to stay up without Asher's help.

A few minutes later, Darlin said Taco Bell was the place to go today.

When Asher parked, Darlin was still pretty woozy.

“Where’s my sweater?”

Darlin kept an extra sweater in Ash's car, a hooded one to help hide their neck.

They moved their hands around searching with as much strength as they had.

“I've got it, Darlin.”

Then they giggled as Asher reached in the back for the sweater.

He almost didn't believe his ears.

He hadn't heard that laugh in years.

“What's so funny?”

They giggled more.

“That name, it makes me all silly.”

Ash was quite close to their ear when he said it again.

“Darlin”

Darlin closed their eyes, enjoying the sound and the way they could hear that grin.

When they opened their eyes again, Ash was no longer in the car.

He was opening the passenger door, unbuckling them.

They look at him.

Asher felt like a knight in shining armor with the way Darlin's eyes sparkled. At him

He helped Darlin out of the car.

When they got their own standing, Ash unfolded their sweater.

“Can I?”

Ash asked as he presented the sweater.

Darlin nodded and lifted their arms.

Asher pulled the sweater over them, covering the scent the vampire left.

Darlin smelled like them again.

They went into the lobby and ordered their food.

Asher ordered it all, making sure to order 3 times the amount Darlin would typically eat.

He always ordered twice, but he felt today they'd need more.

Darlin stayed silent for the whole thing; they just kept their heads down and ate.

It was around 3 when they finished eating.

Darlin was still clearly worn out.

“I'm going to be honest with you. There's no way we walk in, and David doesn't know something up.”

Darlin's face agreed.

“Maybe, I mean you could stay at my place for the night. Will can tell David we're going to the club. And then later we'll text him that we're too messed up to get to his place, a perfect excuse for us to sleep at my place. Oh, and I've got that whole room for you since Milo moved out.”

Asher was a little excited.

Darlin thought it was cute and mustered up a smile and nod.

And they were off to Ashers.

When they got there, Asher found some clothes for Darlin.

Once changed, Darlin took a nap, which helped them regain a lot of their energy.

While Darlin napped Asher to tidy the place up. His mom always taught him to have a place nice for guests, and he thought Darlin deserved that.

He also found some fuzzy blankets and nice pillows for Darlin, who fell asleep before he could get them anything.

When they woke up, they strolled out to the couch, grabbed one of the fuzzy blankets, and turned the TV on. They wanted to do something with practically no effort.

When Asher finished the dishes, he joined them.

If you could call it that, as he was seated 5 feet away.

They picked a movie and started watching

Asher even made popcorn for Darlin.

He wasn't a fan.

He has no idea why he even had popcorn in his apartment.

As they were watching TV, Asher's eyes gravitated to Darlin's face.

It's amazing what random colors can do.

The way the movie lights cast on their skin.

It was mesmerizing.

At some point, his eyes drifted down to their neck.

He now realized that the shirt he gave them had a wide collar, leaving Darlin's neck very exposed.

And even in the strange light, the marks and brushes on their skin burned in Asher's eyes.

Just as his eyes burned them

They could feel his eyes on them; it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling; people used their eyes to judge them all the time.

It was unfamiliar to know those eyes belonged to Asher.

Asher was the one person they felt would never judge them.

With all that they've told him, he never made them feel wrong.

The most he'd do was cation them without judgment, which was a popular combo.

So feeling those eyes bare into their skin hurt more than ever.

And they weren't known for running away from pain.

“I can feel you staring at my neck.”

Asher choked at nothing, and as much as he knew he should look away, he couldn't.

“I'm—it's just the choke marks.”

Ash explained

“I thought we talked about this.”

Darlin said, but they weren't upset, so safely Asher continued.

“Well, I guess you just never mentioned you liked that stuff.”

Darlin stared at Asher.

He was the one feeling judged now.

making him talk more

“Well, you've been claustrophobic for as long as I've known you; choking seems like it'd be triggering. And like I said, I just didn't know you were into it.”

Not upset but also done with the conversation, Darlin throws a popcorn kernel at him.

“Well, you wouldn't know, because we've never slept together.”

A smirk was on their lips; their eyebrows were up.

Everything said, 'Let's change that.'

Except for their eyes

Hollow

If they let him look longer, he might find fear.

Fear that he realizes he was right

They didn't like being choked.

But it didn't matter; it already happened.

Asher looked into their eyes, Darlin turned away.

They sat and finished the movie.

Asher watched Darlin breathe throughout the rest of it.

Their breathing was only explained as being on the brink of panic.

But he didn't know what to do.

So when they got up to head to bed, he did nothing.

In the morning, Asher got up before Darlin.

Maybe he'd try making them breakfast.

Bad

Very bad idea.

Smoke was the smell that woke Darlin.

It wasn't enough to worry about a fire, but enough to check what was going on.

Emerging from the room, they stood in the open living room staring at a panicked Asher, trying, rushing a pan of, well, Darlin couldn't tell, but he took it to the sink, turning the Faust on before Darlin could stop him.

“What the fuck, Asher?”

He hadn't realized they had seen that.

He looked and smiled at them.

That damn smile

Everyone always said his smile was his best feature.

They weren't wrong.

Darlin walked into the kitchen, grabbed a towel, and turned the water off.

They opened a window and started fanning the pan.

“Go open more windows.”

They instructed Asher, laughing to themselves. Everyone knows Asher can't cook, so why did he even try?

When Asher returned, Darlin scolded him.

“Unless it's an active fire and not a grease fire. You don't need to put it under water, because now your place is full of even more smoke.”

He listened intently, probably because it was Darlin, which he preferred. Being scolded by Darlin over David any day

“Got it. But what's a grease fire?”

Darlin closed their eyes, needing Second to deal with him.

It was even harder because he was so honest and so cute.

Like a golden retriever

They wondered if maybe his relatives were dog-shifter golden retrievers.

After cleaning up and giving Asher a detailed guide on dealing with various fires, the two head out, first for food, then back to David's. Darlin lived there; it was David's place; Darlin didn't pay anything, and David was pretty cool for that.

They parked in the driveway, and Asher moved to get out, but Darlin grabbed his hand.

“These marks are still way too visible.”

They looked at the passenger mirror.

“Even with the hoodie.”

Worry was written all over their faces.

They couldn't find a solution and were actively getting worse.

Asher put his hand on their shoulder before flipping up the mirror.

“I've got it. I'll distract David; you'll rush to your room and apply some makeup; he'll never know.”

And once again, he smiled

There must be a calming agent in his smile because, with that simple plan, Darlin was calm and ready to face David.

Darlin put their hoodie up while Asher held the fast food bag; David couldn't stand it, and that was the distraction.

The two entered, and David was right at the door, probably about to go out.

Asher walked straight to him, holding the bag out to him.

David tried to talk to Darlin, but they were able to get past him as Asher lightly shoved the bag into David's chest.

“Hey buddy, I got you some breakfast.”

Instantly, David was distracted.

“This is not breakfast, Asher. Not to mention the fact that it's 11 am.”

Asher put on a puzzled face.

“so??”

David took a breath and sighed before answering.

“Breathing is a meal you have in the morning.”

“But it's 11 am before 12, making it the morning.”

David couldn't argue that even though 6 am was his breakfast time.

Asher was still holding the bag.

“Come on, David, I bought you food; the nice thing for you to do is at least put it in the fridge.”

David's stoic face stared at Asher's before he took the bag and walked to the kitchen.

As David did so, Asher's phone buzzed, a message from Darlin that his help was no longer needed.

David came out of the kitchen.

“Ash, I'm headed to the gym if you want to join me.”

“I don't have any plans for the day, so yeah, let's go.”

Then they stood there, both wondering why the other hadn't moved. David figured it out.

“Ash, your car is blocking mine.”

“Oh yeah, don't worry, I'll move it.”

Ash left to move his car as Darlin came back out.

Head toward the kitchen.

David called out to them

“Tank, would you grab me water from the fridge?”

Tank moved to do as he asked.

Opening the fridge, grabbing a bottle, and tossing it to him

“You got it, man. But David, why is there a bag of trash in the fridge?”

David came closer.

“What bag of trash?”

“This one”

They lifted the fast food bag out, the one David just put in there.

“What do you mean, 'a bag of trash?’ Are you making a joke about how bad fast food is?”

Darlin laughs as they open the bag.

“No, David, it's a literal bag of trash.”

Just as David saw the truth in the bag, Asher re-entered the house.

Though David didn't know yet

“Why would Asher tell me it was food?”

Darlin made a few goofy faces for Asher.

“I don't know David. You know, Asher is a weird guy.”

A gasp is what drew David's attention to Asher.

“I am not weird.”

David was already over this and decided he no longer needed an answer.

“Tank, please think that away, Ash, let's go. For the record, Ash, you're the weirdest guy I know.”

Asher defended himself as the two left the house.

[danieyells]

So the yellow fruit from the tree grew bigger for a bit. Yellow is Vagastrom's color. The tree says it needs more love or it'll die.

Before Towa showed you that the fruit had improved, we saw that Alan and Leo were at odds a little, with Alan not wanting Leo to hack into the victim's social media to try and find a reason for the suicide. When the PC asks Alan for the case file, he's ready to just hand it over when Leo takes it back and says no and leaves.

In that moment Alan and the PC thought he was saying no anyway. He comes back a while later saying they can't give the PC their only copy of the case file, so he made copies for them, which makes total sense. Leo then says to let them know if you find anything.

I think in that moment Alan realized Leo was trying to help both of them and that he could be trusted. Yes, he was very curt and rude about it and didn't explain what he was up to, yes he had previously shown distrust for the PC, but he was quick enough to show his point and be interested in what's going on. I wouldn't be surprised if after the PC left Alan let Leo check the social media accounts for clues.

Now immediately after that the tree gets a bit better and after the gala announcement it gets worse. . .but I don't think that's related to the Gala itself--if anything giving them a reason to work together would have made it grow.

Remember, Sho is very frequently in proximity to someone with the ability to hear through walls. Maybe he told Hyde he was alone, but he didn't count for that Leo might have been listening. Or did he?

I think Leo lost trust in Sho, overhearing him plan something secret with the brother he supposedly hates so much. And that loss of trust made the vagastrom fruit shrink again.

It could just be a general 'they're not working together' thing but Sho wasn't really working with them at that point in the chapter either. If it were just about working together, unless this secret mission happens to be working against Vagastrom, I don't see why it'd cause the tree to regress.

I feel like it's probably a red herring tbh--it's so extremely overt and suspicious to have that conversation happen right at the end like that and for Hyde to straight up say Sho is who he's working with. But I'm ready and willing to be wrong and learn a whole lot! I mean Sho's been here two months! How could he be doing all that much bad! He says himself he's just using Hyde to get ahead, but how is this helping him? What is he even being asked to do? I'm so curious. I'm so excited. I thought there'd be a bigger break between the next chapter but it's another month like usual I AM SO HYPE.

ALSO IT'S BACK TO BEING ON THE LAST THURSDAY AGAIN. WHAT WAS WITH THIS ONE BEING ON A MONDAY.

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Thought I'd give you a one word prompt for any of the Zelinks: Ghost.

@nocturnalfandomartist, thank you, thank you, thank you for this prompt. This astonished me more the more I wrote - and I couldn't stop writing. It may be longer than you bargained for at 9K words, but I enjoyed writing every single word of it. I will write at least one follow-up. This is a canon-compliant sequel to What to Expect When Fetch-Questing and a loose sequel to The Seeds of Love, Well-Worn and What Once Rang Hollow (with a few continuity differences for that last one) but it can stand easily on its own. Rated T, post-TotK, humor, drama, and romance. Also available to read on ao3.

Eternal

Link was extremely pleased he had his own arm back.

Unfortunately, he was the only one.

Purah (“Are you fricking KIDDING me?! I wanted to study that thing!”), Robbie (“I must repair my balloon myself?!”), Impa (“Mmm—a pity. With it, we might have learned how to create our own constructs—perhaps incorruptible ones.”), Paya (“That’s too bad, Link—it looked good on you!”), Tauro (“Ahhh. I’m sure you’re feeling better, but I was hoping I could learn more of the Zonai language from it, somehow.”), Calip (“It’s gone?! What did you do with it? You should’ve given it to me as an expert in these matters!”), Sidon (“My dearest friend! Where has your adult arm gone? Are you well?”), Yunobo (“Oh NO, Link, you lost your cool arm!”), Tulin (“Oh mannn. You still have my pledge, Link, but I don’t think I should just…slap my rune on your body. We gotta get you some rings or something.”), and Riju (“I didn’t expect you to look so much smaller without it.”), not to mention every single member of the monster control crew, and essentially anyone in Hyrule who ever recognized him, all thought he’d been better off with part of Rauru grafted onto his body.

Even Zelda wasn’t (entirely) an exception.

She did appreciate Link’s hands during their personal time (“I must admit, Link, I’d have felt strange were you doing this with a Zonai’s hand rather than your own”), but the scholar and sovereign in her definitely mourned the loss of such a unique artifact.

“Link, is there any chance you still share a psychic connection with Rauru?”

“Nope,” he said.

She blinked at him.

“Sorry,” he said, blushing and sheepish.

Now that the depths, sky, and newfound caverns had created vast opportunities for exploration, research, and innovation, Zelda’s original aim of rebuilding Hyrule had essentially tripled. She and Link knew if they didn’t make depths exploration and settlement official, people would do it on their own and get themselves killed (or the Yiga would claim it, and Hyrule would be threatened again in a few centuries). So it was, indeed, official as were new initiatives to investigate Zonai technology—making the Great Abandoned Central Mine one of several hubs of Hyrulean activity in the depths. Its proximity to the healing spring directly beneath the Shrine of Resurrection had made it a frequent destination of theirs.

Link and Zelda materialized beneath the Koradat Lightroot to the weighty vertigo of silence in the dark beyond the root’s oasis.  It was the same every time—some quiet dread sinking into the deepest pit of Link’s belly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.  He kept telling himself it would be better once people settled, with their warm lights and the sounds that come with them going about their daily business.  Zelda kept telling him otherwise. (“We oughtn’t fill this place to the brim with light, Link. We would disturb its ecosystem severely”).

Link was usually on board with leaving nature undisturbed for the most part.

Maybe it was the time he’d spent down here in utter silence but for his own footsteps, utter darkness but pale flowerlight shot into a black so matte it may as well have been death’s void; the pressure of vast expanses of pitch-black felt nothing like a sea of undisturbed trees far above in the light.

There wasn’t even any wind.

Were both nature? Yes. Were both natural?

It didn’t feel like it.

“Shall we?” Zelda said.

It severed Link’s fledgling reverie. He tore his eyes from the lightless maw beyond Hylia Canyon and turned to join Zelda in descending the steep slope on the path toward the Great Abandoned Central Mine. He gave her a small smile, though he knew, from her face, it didn’t reach his eyes.

Her return smile did. “I hear one of our survey teams discovered another root in that direction,” she said. “We merely- ah- well-“

“Have to figure out how to light it up without my arm,” Link said.

A hint of pink dusted Zelda’s cheekbones. “Yes. Sorry, Link.”

The mine’s central structure loomed in the distance, its light cold, the highest statue of the ancient Gerudo sage always watching, an intimidating glower over the hilt of her sword aimed at any who would ascend the formidable stair toward its main entrance.

“Hello, Aratra,” Zelda whispered, as she always did, as though the woman herself could still answer her.

As they neared the bottom of the hill, blue flickered in Link’s vision. “Zelda,” he said, pointing to the small cluster of poes coming into view on the left.

The spectre of that intimate grief between them passed over her face as she nodded.

He didn’t say it wasn’t her fault.

Since he didn’t say it, she didn’t say it could be.

The words floated between them, spoken so many times they’d become an immutable understanding: that she’d been too slow, that he’d been too silent, that they’d both been too obedient to the long-dead king whose grave Zelda still brought blue gentians to in the early days of each summer.

That neither of them blamed the other for it.

That they’d both spend the rest of their lives making up for it.

And that they’d do it together.

Neither of them knew whether the spiritual flames were casualties of the Calamity.

Link only knew the vague sense of relief he felt when they entered him. It felt like they felt safe—sometimes, he even sensed joy—and they clung to him so hard.

They clung to Zelda, too, it turned out.  As they approached, the spirits snapped eagerly into whichever of them was nearest, nestling somewhere unfathomable within them until released to a bargainer’s care. Link still didn’t trust the bargainers, exactly, though they intended to visit the one in the mine that day.

They didn’t talk much. They usually didn’t when sliding through the depths’ silence—sound felt like a beacon to whatever might be beyond the lightroot’s reach; yet they moved in unwavering agreement, sweeping up every poe in their path and off it within sight. It’s why they took the long route to every work site.

They veered far off the path at one point to collect a dozen wayward souls atop a half-buried ruin of a toppled archway.

“If we go much further, we’ll be at the spring rather than the mine,” Zelda said.

“Yeah,” Link answered quietly. They turned to rejoin the path further up, hugging the rounded base of a monumental column presumably carved by nature, reaching the impossibly high ceiling of what was far, far too large to consider a mere cavern. It was like a space willed into existence by the gods themselves.

Link’s mood lifted as the sounds of civilized activity reached him, more and more distinct as they neared the foot of the quadruple-flight of stone stairs beneath the statue’s feet. Link caught a glimpse of a Sheikah scientist, little but a few motes of color on the highest level of the structure, cheerful construct “Brrrp!”s reflecting toward them off any of hundreds of stone facades: every surface the same pale grey—every light cool and lifeless.

Link couldn’t imagine living in such a place. With an irritated grind of his teeth, he realized he strongly preferred the haphazard Yiga structures, with their paper and oil lights and bound wood. The real, green-leaved brightblooms were also better than the Zonai’s artificial torches.

“Rupee for your thoughts,” Zelda whispered.

Link huffed. “The place needs some color.”

She paused on the stairs, a third of the way up, her torso shaking with laughter and her hand squeezing his tight.

Link tried not to smile. He didn’t want her to think he liked being laughed at.

“Link,” she said, holding her stomach, “that is…precisely the sort of observation I ought to expect you to make.”

He really tried to keep a sour grimace on, but he knew his lips were going twitchy.

“Unfortunately,” Zelda said, eyeing his lips with suspicion, “I am no longer in a position to pass on your criticism of Zonai décor.”

Link snorted. “Neither am I. But I definitely would’ve said something to Rauru if I’d seen this before he disappeared.”

“I have no doubt! And truly, you’re right. I cannot imagine spending any great length of time down here with nothing but grey stone and white light.”

Link nodded. “At least not without experiencing crushing environmental depression.”

Zelda inclined her head, no longer laughing. “Indeed. It makes one wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

“…Whether the monsters find it as unpleasant as we do,” she said, her eyes sweeping the far-off dark.

Link let that one sink in as they made the landing. Zelda touched the dais on which her old ally stood with reverence. When her hand slid from the porous stone, they continued up the staircase on her right. The chamber below would wait until later.

They ascended among tents clustered on the flagstones before the forge, lining the walls both natural and Zonai-made right up to the great arch.  They littered the circular courtyard on the other side of the building, too, the royal crest and symbols of the Sheikah, Zonai Survey Team, and Gerudo adorning many. The familiar sound of a fan whirred somewhere above them, out of sight.

It had been quite a stroke of luck, really, that Link had activated these facilities before Rauru’s arm vanished. The constructs had still recognized him as their “primary authorizer” and he’d been able to grant access to others.

He admitted, though, it was getting cumbersome; the moment he saw Ponnick, he knew he’d run out of time to think about Zelda’s monster-wonderings.  He flagged Link down (as if Link wasn’t looking straight at him) with arms wild above his head. “Thank the skies you’re here, we have new recruits!”

Link then spent the obligatory hour introducing them to all the constructs in the facility.

Zelda had her own work in store for her. Between decisions regarding distribution of newly acquired zonaite and reports from the excavation, inventory, innovation, and engineering teams, she easily had a full day of deliberation and arbitration ahead. Link joined her for much of it once he’d fulfilled his authorization duties—after all, he’d become something of an amateur engineer himself. It was nice to have something scientific to contribute when talking with Zelda.

“You can totally build a wing/hot-air-balloon hybrid!” he’d said.

 “Link, that sounds quite impractical-“

“No, no, you don’t put the balloon in the middle, you put it on the nose at an angle, see?  Then it drags the wing upward.”

“L- Link- what of the flame needed?“

“Oh, no, it’s fine, you only get burned a little bit.”

“What?!”

“And you still put the fans on the back, you know, to help out. Oh, and the steering stick.”

“Link, forgive me, but the flame shall not be directed straight up. It is inefficient and unsafe.”

“Yeah but the LIFT!”

He’d quite liked his flaming plane. So had Robbie.

Today, the engineering talk had more to do with shoring up mining tunnels, which while important, did not require Link’s particular flair for incendiary devices. All their talk of angles, sines, and cosines seemed a bit more precise than his higgledy-piggledy constructions to hold up Addison’s signs, so he eventually left them to it, jogging instead to the rim of the courtyard, climbing up, and inviting all the poes newly showing themselves to join him—then scouting for more from his higher vantage point. He’d grown used to the quizzical looks from everyone else but Zelda.

“What?” he’d asked as Ponnick watched him jog, zig-zagging, in a roughly circular area covered in pale grey and lavender fungi.

“What are you doing?”

“Collecting the poes,” Link said.

“Poes? Where?!” Ponnick spun, wildly searching for spirits which glowed blue, plain as day, in Link’s vision.

At least Zelda could see them, too.

On balance, between the poes, soldiers’ spirits, koroks, Hestu, and the dragons of the springs, he’d have presumed himself insane if no one else ever saw what he saw.  He almost had after the ghost of King Rhoam disappeared right in front of his face in the Temple of Time: an insane amnesiac with delusions of heroism.

Except they hadn’t been delusions, because he’d killed the crap out of Ganon.

Twice.

Or, of course, he imagined it. Twice.

Link shook his head. No point going down that route. If he imagined that, he imagined everything, and if that was the case he might as well relax and start attaching rockets to every exhausted korok’s backpack like that one by Outskirt Stable.

Poor little guy. At least he made it the eleventh time.

He huffed to himself. Sometimes, Zelda thought he was a little nuts. He supposed he could see why.

As a particularly large poe with a bright pink fringe zzipped its way into his body, Link caught a wink of blue between boulders at the stone circle in the distance to the north—a small zonaite deposit he’d cleared of monsters for what seemed to be the final time, the blood moons having ended.

It sparked his curiosity.

He sprinted the first hundred feet, then slowed to a reasonable pace. He didn’t want to go too far and worry Zelda, but if there were poes at that old monster nest, he didn’t want to leave them there.

Ten minutes later, he entered the mouth of the circle, three moldy, rickety old watch-posts within and another gap in the rocks across from him. Blue flickered beyond it: five poes huddled together. As he approached, flashes of his last encounter there played across his mind’s eye. The bokoblin on the platform before him had seen him first and tried to rain fire-fruit-arrows on him. Two silver moblins had slouched toward him, intent on splitting him open with their horns or the decayed royal claymores they’d somehow gotten. The other two bokoblins had fallen quickly to Tulin’s duplicate. Five monsters in all.

Link’s lip curled.

He hesitated on the brink of turning back, the thought of helping anything that may once have been a bokoblin sending a shockingly wicked taste of bile up his throat. He brought a fist to his mouth, pressing it deep to his skin, the imprint of his teeth stark against his lips.

No one memory stood out.

He’d never met a bokoblin that hadn’t aimed to kill on sight—never known one to show mercy, or even disinterest. Once they knew a person was near, they entered an unstoppable, murderous frenzy until they succeeded or someone put them down.

Link shut his eyes and took breath after deep breath.

He didn’t know anything for sure, and the bargainers never said.

Except they did say.

“Good… Evil… That’s the futile perspective of narrow-minded beings… There is no such distinction in wandering spirits.”

When he next looked, the flames flickered every bit as forlorn as they always did. He shook his head, his feet finally choosing forward for him.

When the poes joined the others in Link, he felt the usual sense of relief. Whoever or whatever they were, they seemed glad to be with him—not as happy as the ones he’d found in the deepest pit of the mine beneath Hateno, but if he was stuck for Goddess-knows how long at the absolute bottom of a pitch-black pit, he’d have been overjoyed to get out, too.

He took his time on the way back to the courtyard, half-watching a team excavate a buried section of the cracked enclosure and half-scouting for more glints of spirit-light, pensive, wrinkling his nose as he became aware of the sticky sheen on his skin. He pulled a handkerchief from his pouch and took it to his face. It came away slightly green with the powdery spores always floating in the too-still air of the depths.  Zelda collected them to study, but Link preferred not to be the collection vessel.

Zelda herself appeared over the edge of the wall as he swept the cloth beneath his left eye a second time. He watched her make her way down the inclined stone the natural grace she’d always had.

When he reached her, she was busy snapping images of the newly excavated section of stone.

“It is remarkable how they accomplished this precision on such a massive scale.” The Purah Pad clicked. “These structures were erected before my time with them—long before for most. They are scattered so far and wide and yet certain markings on them are precisely identical. I suppose they may have mass-produced stones as they did construct parts and delivered them afar.”

Link grew a soft, sideways smile as he listened. He could imagine her doing exactly this in the sunshine, her hair brushing the small of her back, himself silent as always, allowing her voice to wash over him until she inevitably remembered who she was talking to.

“The compendium feature is still something of a mystery,” she’d said, snapping a carefully-timed shot of a warm darner just as it paused, searching for prey.

“It recognizes certain species, but not others. Initially, Purah and I believed its recognition to be related to useful effects. Warm darners are of use in elixirs to resist cold temperatures, for example. Yet despite being unable to identify any species of tree, the Slate recognizes certain perfectly ordinary fruits, including apples.”

Link thought apples were too delicious to be ordinary.  He didn’t dare say so, but the phantom flavor of hot buttered apple flooded his mouth and his stomach betrayed him with a thoroughly embarrassing hunger-pang much-too-much like the sound of a hopeful retriever begging for an appley treat.

Zelda’s back stiffened. She glanced over her shoulder at his now-pink face, her eyes flicking to the blue pommel peeking out behind his ear. Link remained perfectly still, and that included not swallowing his imaginary-apple-induced-saliva.

Then-Zelda had returned to imaging wildlife in a rankling silence.

Now-Zelda heard him huff a laugh and turned with a smile sparkling despite the cold light of this place. She hooked the Purah Pad onto her belt. “May I ask what’s amused you so?”

Link shrugged a little. “Ways you haven’t changed.”

“Ah,” she said, threading her fingers through his. “And what of ways I have?”

His voice emerged low and soft. “I love those.” He squeezed her hand.

It made her smile at him in a way far too similar to how she had much earlier that morning, not long after waking up. He swallowed as she pulled him toward her—then she squinted at him and laughed a little through her nose, taking the handkerchief still in his other hand and beginning to wipe his forehead.

“I did that already,” he chuckled.

“You missed your hairline,” she said with the soft laugh he’d come to recognize as her equivalent of a giggle. “It’s fortunate this substance does not irritate your lungs as it does for some.”

“Especially Nappin.”

“Indeed, yes, especially Nappin. I do not believe depths research is his calling.”

“Nope.”

“You must have walked through a thick patch.”

“Ran through, more likely.”

“Oh? Where did you go?”

Link motioned toward the stone circle in the distance.

Her brow pinched. “Monsters?”

“Poes,” he said, wondering if he should tell her about the coincidence of the number. It might make her feel better, to have some hint these weren’t all souls marooned by the Calamity, but he wasn’t sure how she’d take the possibility they might be doing favors for monsters who’d been intent on murdering them in life.

She must have seen it in the motions of his mouth, nearly but not quite speaking. “Something else?” she asked.

He sighed soft through his nose. “Just something that made me think.”

The corner of her mouth quirked. Then her whole face opened up in mock-surprise. “Incredible!”

“Pfff,” he said with a poke to her ribs.

She squeaked. The three people working on the excavation behind Zelda went from studiously ignoring them to unabashed staring. Link gave them a small wave just as he registered Zelda’s eyes narrowing at him.

She began to rub the handkerchief all over the crown of his head with unnecessary vigor.

“Hey!”

The sounds coming from her as he pushed her hands away were much more like a girlish giggle than anything she usually produced. “It was in your hair, too,” she pointed out.

“There’s probably some in yours, Princess,” he warned.

Her eyebrows shot very close to the hairline her hands had risen to protect.

Link smirked. Her braid was much more difficult to fix than his ponytail. He made short work of his, shaking his now-mussed hair out and re-gathering it in the tie. Hyper-aware of the team still at rapt attention in the background, he finished up and offered his hand to Zelda. “Truce?”

She took it with a small smile. “Yes, please—but sincerely, I would like to know what gave you pause in the short time we were separated.”

His smile ebbed as he began to lead her over the shallower side of the half-buried stone walkway. It was no use, really. He’d only been good at hiding things from her when she refused to look at him, so long ago.

“There were five poes,” he said, “same as how many monsters I last cleared out.”

Their feet fell so quiet on the soft courtyard ground covered in pale, fuzzy flora he had no real names for, some soft and mossy, others more like wisps or powders. A few prickled. He liked the purple ones best for breaking up all that grey.

Their feet followed the same path without any hesitance or need for confirmation—toward the great central corridor. Zelda finally answered ten feet from its first stones.

“The statues say… good and evil… are meaningless for them.”

“…Yeah.”

“For a few moments, I was wondering whether only the spirits remaining clear in the shape of Hylian soldiers were people, but… no.  For they aren’t poes at all, are they?”

Link shook his head. “No. They… find their way on their own. Once they’re done.”

Zelda nodded. “They had a purpose—to help you,” Zelda said.

“To help someone, anyway. Whoever came around to fight back.”

A series of clanging sounds echoed down the stone steps into the corridor, along with quizzical "Brrrp!"s and a Hylian's grumbling. Link's right hand flexed. No more convenient ultra-glue. He kept walking.

“Why down here?” Zelda asked.

She’d spoken so quietly he had to think to process her words over the noise.

“You mean why in the depths?” Link asked.

“Yes. Why so far beneath the place they perished? There seems little hope of aiding someone here, doesn’t there?”

“I came along.”

“Yet they can’t have known you would. They wouldn’t even have known the depths were here to travel here intentionally.”

Link shook his head. He had absolutely no idea.

They descended in thoughtful silence to the base of Aratra’s main statue, then behind her into the yawning chamber tucked deceptively beneath the center of the great structure.

It struck Link, as it often did, as the offer of an embrace. As the chamber opened before them, the long bridge leading from the entrance directly to the four-eyed face of the greatest bargainer statue, the platform running abreast its shoulders combined with its massive arms and it appeared so ready to encircle whatever came before it. When he’d first stood there, he expected it, watched those hands out of the corner of his eye, waiting for movement.

It had never come.

Instead, a distant but surprisingly level-headed voice had issued from the alien face. It had helped him—no question about that.

The poes gladly rushed into its waiting arms—no doubt about that, either.

But this entity had also played a trick on him to get him down here. He would never trust it the way he trusted the Goddess.

The Goddess statues were another matter entirely. Now that he knew more than one thing could talk out of them, he was a lot more wary than he’d been before.

They came to a halt near the great statue’s face.

“You who stand before me,” it said in tones of single drops of water echoing in a deep, black lake, “offer poes to me. They are spirits that ought to return to the afterlife.”

As always, the poes simply left them. With hundreds or thousands of spirits somehow housed within him, Link always expected there to be something like a whirlwind, or flashes of light—but there wasn’t. It was swift and gentle as a sigh: barely a murmur of any motion or sound. It took merely a moment.

Then a wave of desperate grief seized the core of Link’s body and he cried out, clutching at an anguished heart, though neither the cry nor the heart were his own.

“Link!” Zelda gripped his biceps, her face stricken.

“Z-elda-“ he said, more to answer her than anything else, at a complete loss.

“Two do not wish to leave you,” said the bargainer.

Link’s breath caught.  Zelda’s eyes flew wide, and she looked him up and down as though trying to find them. “Can you- pull them from him?”

“I can do no more than guide,” the bargainer answered. “I show the way home.”

“They usually seem quite pleased to go home. So- why?” Zelda’s face seemed approaching a panic like none he’d seen in over a hundred years.

“I’m fine, Zel,” Link said, “really- NO, really, I’m fine, I’m just- I feel what they feel.”

“Yes, I do as well, but this-“

“This is them not wanting to go,” Link said, shaking. His eyes met first the lower, then the upper pair of the bargainer’s. “Can you talk to them?”

“After a fashion.”

“Can you figure out why-“

“I know why.”

Link and Zelda waited a few beats.

“We would appreciate it if you would inform us,” Zelda said, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

There was a depth of quiet, as though all sound plummeted into some unseen pit, unable to return, siphoned, whenever the bargainers spoke across fathoms to their brethren.  It muted Link’s accelerated breaths. Zelda’s grip tightened, her mind visibly whirring behind the eyes flicking between his features.

“…You have made a substantial offering,” the bargainer said at length.

Link and Zelda exchanged a glance.

“You have made many offerings,” it continued, “many more than any other being in countless ages.”

Link experienced the distinct sensation of someone…curling around him, like Zelda would, holding him tight, but inside his own chest.

“If you agree, I will honor these spirits’ requests as repayment for your offerings.”

“Agree?” Zelda asked. “What requests?”

“They would speak with you,” it clarified.

The curl tightened. It felt like far, far more than a desire to speak. A creeping dread rose in him—his own—of what spirits would choose to cling with such desperation to his body.

Someone terrified of death? Of the afterlife? Maybe someone with a last request—a regret? Two someones—at the same time, when it had never happened before?

Or did the bargainer mean… “W-wait,” Link said with a swallow. “Do they want to speak to someone in general? Or is it just me? Or Zelda?”

Link resisted an inexplicable urge to whimper.

“It is you who stand before me,” the bargainer said.

“Meaning Link,” Zelda said squinting at the statue.

It stared as though its answer had been obvious.

“Do they mean him harm?” Zelda’s tone had hardened considerably. “We have seen spirits lift weapons- perform magic.“

Link lurched with a sudden fear—could he have picked up Ganondorf’s soul?

“I offer you a boon,” the bargainer said, “not a curse.”

Zelda blinked, taken aback, while Link registered the depth of the anguish invading his heart.

It didn’t feel like Ganondorf. He’d have been hatred—envy—fury.

No, that wasn’t it.

This was regret. Something undone or unfinished.

Link closed his eyes and tried to… reach—within himself, where this spirit wound around him. So tight—clinging—stubborn. Something made him breathe an incredulous laugh, and he didn’t even know why; but the more he seemed to press into the spirit’s space the more familiar it seemed, an intense vertigo hurtling toward him from an invisible horizon slamming his awareness into long ago, when the world was over a hundred years younger.

Link’s body gasped.

Link’s mind looked down at a very spiteful young girl with a thick mop of mixed sand-and-straw-and-acorn-colored hair which he’d wrestled into a braid for her earlier that day, springy strands poking out at odd angles as she narrowed her eyes at him, her gangly arms vice-gripping his ribs, her hands fisted, and her feet planted wider than shoulder-width apart, as though to brace him immovably in-place.

“This isn’t going to work out for you, cheeter,” Link said.

“You’re not going,” she answered, her voice a mix of petulant and acrid.

“I… kind of am.”

“Nope.” She sniffed, a bit of her own hair having tickled its way to the edge of one nostril.

“I mean, if you won’t let go, I can just drag you all the way to the castle.”

“Good.”

“Good?!”

“Dad takes you everywhere. My turn.”

“You clinging to my midriff isn’t the same as Father taking you somewhere.”

Her lip curled and Link felt kind of bad, but what did she expect? “You’re eleven.”

“So?”

“So you’re not even out of school yet!”

“Castle Town has a school.”

“So you want to go to school in Castle Town while I’m in training all day and pretty much not see me anyway?”

“At least I’ll get to do something.”

Link laughed so hard he went silent, the girl’s chin bopping his ribs painfully with each spasm of his diaphragm.

“What are you laughing at?!”

“Chee… for Hylia’s sake, you’ll just be at a different school!”

“With you.”

“What about Mom?” Link said.

Chee went quiet for a moment, her eyes softening a little, though they still shone like tiger’s-eye. He could tell she was trying not to grimace.

“That is totally your sheepish face trying not to come out,” Link said.

 “Dad leaves her alone,” Chee said quietly. “A lot.”

Link’s smile left him. “No… he doesn’t. Because she has us.”

“You mean me.”

“Yeah, okay… so it’s been you more than me. But do you really want to leave her here while we both go?”

“She could come.”

Link shook his head. He was getting sidetracked. Mom wasn’t really what this was about, and neither was a different school, or Castle Town, or even his sister getting to do more exciting things. “Look, Chee… I know you’ll miss me.”

She grunted and pumped all the air from his lungs with her bony arms (damn she was strong).

“I’ll miss you too. A lot.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, hard, but not too hard. He was way too strong for his own good, or hers. “More than anyone,” he whispered.

“Link?”

“No way.”

“Yep.”

“You’re a total mommy’s boy.”

“Yeah, well, doesn’t mean my sister can’t be my favorite person.”

“Link, please- answer me!”

“He communes,” the bargainer said, the sound of distance itself as the image of Link’s little sister faded.

The feel of her arms around him remained.

“I agree!” Link blurted.

“What?!” Zelda said, her thumb swiping at a wetness on Link’s cheek.

As the embrace of his innermost self bled from Link, he tripped forward, his arms desperate, seeking to return it. His hands found Zelda’s waist, and his eyes found hers—whatever she saw in them made her hug him tight about his shoulders.

“Link?” she said.

He held her too, unsure how to begin, but any words died on his lips at the sight of blue flame coalescing behind her. He tapped Zelda’s back, taking her by one shoulder and turning her to look.

Two spirits came into slow being before them, veiled in a pale blue glow, their features weaving into existence as patches of light, seamless once in place. Flames licked their feet, one moment there, then gone. They were old women, but as Link watched, their edges shimmered, and they took the forms he knew they would—some hidden heart within him had already known, had felt their shades only in his most dreamless of sleeps, in the darkness with them.

One woman stood almost exactly his height, about forty years old, and looked very much like him. The other had become the girl who’d insisted he stay home with her over a century ago.

How could his waking mind have forgotten them so thoroughly? He really was an insane amnesiac with delusions of heroism. He’d have to be insane to forget people he loved so much.

“Mom. Chee,” he said, and as he did, their tears fell, too. They rushed to embrace him, both at once, and he could feel them, they were real, and his deepest core spoke a wordless vow to offer a gift worthy of the bargainer’s extraordinary blessing.

--

Zelda balanced privacy and caution, wandering the length of the bargainer’s platform, the communion of three always at the corner of her eye, sitting cross-legged, knee-to-knee and hand-in-hand.

She’d known of his mother and sister, but they’d never met. He’d spoken of them only in bare, short spaces, quiet moments when Calamity’s imminence dulled.

How their Hateno home had not brought their memories forth long before now, she didn’t know. She’d sensed, sometimes, as Link stared at a piece of pottery or brushed his fingertips over a length of wood-grain on the banister, some glimmer of their former reality floating near to the surface—but it never emerged.

It’s why she’d delved into the mystery of the Shrine of Resurrection—into the healing spring beneath it in the depths—as though the missing parts of him had drifted into its bed, lying nascent against its darkest earth, far below.

They’d have stopped there again after this, on an ordinary day. She’d have given him her most sincere of smiles as she removed his leather—his bracers, his belts, his boots—her eyes never leaving his. She could feel the way his chest would rise and fall, quickening against the heels of her hands. They’d have entered the water together.

Zelda reached the platform’s edge. Hundreds of feet below, a small cluster of poes huddled in the great chamber’s corner, near the bargainer’s ankle; Zelda wondered that they’d come so close to the guiding statue, yet not found their way to the afterlife.

“They do not wish to cross,” the bargainer said.

Zelda gasped, one hand pressing flat to her chest. It had heard her?

“I can hear only you who stand before me.”

Zelda craned her neck toward the statue’s head, half-expecting it to have turned toward her. It hadn’t. “Not the others above us, then?” she whispered.

“Only you who stand before me.”

Zelda sighed, the bargainer keeping its secrets as always. She centered Link in her vision, speaking quietly with his lost family, so engrossed he’d not spared the statue a glance as its voice sounded.

“I spoke to you alone,” the statue said.

“Oh?” Zelda’s curiosity piqued. “I didn’t realize you could.”

She waited for a response, the spark of excitement slowly fading in the silence.

She oughtn’t have expected anything else. These beings showed interest in nothing but the welfare of the spirits they shepherded. She peered over the railing once more, at the flames flickering far below.

“If I go to collect them, will they come?”

“For you, yes. Undoubtedly.”

“And would they then move on as the others have?”

“Almost certainly.”

She wondered why her carrying them a few hundred feet would change their minds.

“Listen with he who also stands before me. You will understand.”

Zelda’s brow tightened, taken aback and hesitant to simply eavesdrop. She shuffled her feet.

The bargainer remained silent.

She approached the three with great reservation, her hands clasped before her, unwilling to simply insert herself within their conversation. She stopped partway across the platform. Should Link wish to include her, he would—yet he was rapt. He appeared as though drinking in every detail of his mother’s face over and over again. Perhaps he feared a more ordinary forgetfulness would take her from him a second time.

Zelda’s lower lip rose in understanding. Some days, she, too, struggled to see her father’s face clearly. Her mother’s had long been wiped blank.

She gasped, her hand touching the Purah Pad.

Link looked up at the sound, giving her a small smile, and as he did, the spirits looked at her as well, as though only just noticing her presence.

The spirit of Link’s mother smiled wide. “Link! Is she with you?”

Link turned deep crimson, his face twisting in a smiling grimace Zelda had never seen on him.

“Oooh!” his sister said, her face full of mock-scandalization. “Your face, Link. Wow. Is she… with you?” she asked, her eyebrows inching upward.

Link’s rested his face in his hands as the spirit-women giggled at him. Zelda couldn’t help but quirk a smile, herself, though she felt strange. She could not ignore the hesitance in her heart.

Transient.

It would be transient.

Her eyes threatened tears as she watched her lover, watched him be with them as though they yet lived.

Their departure would sink him as his forgetfulness never could have.

It took Link a minute and a few resurgences of giggling to recover enough to peer over his hands at her.

Then he held one out in invitation, turning that smile on her- the one that was for her alone. She drew a steeling breath, her fingers worrying at the pad’s cool surface. “Are you certain?” Zelda asked. “I’ve no wish to intrude.” I’ve no wish to cut your time short.

“I’m completely sure,” Link said, beckoning her toward him.

Her shoe scuffed on the first step and she swallowed, extending her hand. When he took it, his mother’s spirit slid to make room for her. Zelda sat as they did, her knee to Link’s, unable to smile and unsure what to say—though she had no intention of asking questions about the mechanics of spirithood, despite the bargainer’s nebulous words.

Link seemed to sense her uncertainty. He threaded his fingers through hers and moved closer, drawing her hand warm into his lap, his shoulder to hers. Zelda couldn’t help but find his eyes, and though she knew his smile and the squeeze of her hand were nothing but sincerity, a truth to reassure her, the smile she gave held a depth of sadness for the future this would bring.

“That is so a yes,” his sister said, snapping the moment in two. Link’s eyes rolled and fluttered shut, and a small laugh left Zelda’s nose despite her visions of Link falling apart.

“The sky’s sake, Chee,” his mother chuckled. “You lived to be ninety-two. I’d expect you to have matured eventually.”

“Are you kidding? This is my chance to be a kid again. I’ll take it!” The girl smiled at Link, but an intense sadness lay in the core of her eyes, the precise contours of her lips. Zelda recognized its longing.

It was in his mother’s, too. “Link, my little love,” the older woman said, shifting a soft smile between him and Zelda, “why don’t you introduce us?”

Link huffed a laugh and gave Zelda a look so like one he’d given her just before the Calamity struck—on Mount Lanayru—something sad yet loving and utterly immovable all at once. She wondered wildly for a moment exactly how he’d introduce her—for she wasn’t his wife, not yet, but “fiancé” seemed an entirely inadequate word.

Fated. Soulmate. Destined. Those- those began to approach the magnitude of whatever connection had laid between them even from the beginning.

“Mom- Chee,” Link said, his eyes and smile still soft, still on her. “This is the love of my life.” His thumb stroked the edge of her hand. “Zelda.”

She and her smile warmed, his words an anchor to the present. Her free hand curled around his bicep and their foreheads somehow met, though she’d not intended to approach him.

His eyes on hers.

Those calm waters she always wished to dive deep within. They seemed to go on forever, further than Link himself could know, to a place warm, safe, and eternal.

Should she ever tell him so, he would give her his lopsided smile with that deep dimple of his. He would tell her the reverse—that she was his eternal goddess, and he worshiped her—that it wasn’t about him.

But it was about him. She knew it in her deepest self. They two were as one. When it came time for her to pass into the afterlife, she knew she would not go without him.

A sudden understanding drew an aching smile on her face for all the little lights in the darkness.

Though the silence between them bore no tension, its length emerged in her awareness. No irreverent remark issued from his sister; his mother had asked no questions of her. She turned with a flutter of dread, expecting, somehow, the spell to be broken—to see empty space where the spirits had been. Instead, she found their gazes on them, awed.

“What is it?” Link asked softly.

They seemed at a loss for speech. Their eyes traveled all around and above and below them, their hands locked together. His mother’s eyes fell on Zelda’s, and his sister’s on Link’s.

“It was you,” his sister said.

Link shook his head. “What was?”

“You… shine,” his mother said, her voice like a whisper in a cathedral. “Together. Like- the light of a thousand Suns.”

Link turned as though searching for that light himself. “Zelda does- she shines with her magic.”

 “No, Link. Both of you,” his sister said, shaking her head hard, her eyes shut for a moment. She opened them, squinting at Zelda. “I see you both ways right now. Before, I didn’t have eyes, not anymore. I do now, and I can see you sitting there, but I could see you before, too. You… you were the lights. You…” she gestured at them, her palm wide, “are the lights.” She swallowed. “Mom? Same for you?”

“Yes,” the older woman breathed. “Yes. I thought- Link, I’d thought the light had led us to you. I felt- so happy to finally be with you again. My little boy-“ tears slipped down her cheeks again, and she reached for Link, cupping his cheeks. “I thought- I still don’t understand- I thought I’d outlived you. I kept wishing, and wishing, and wishing in a sea of darkness to find you again.”

“We all thought you died at Fort Hateno,” Chee said quietly.

“But the light didn’t lead me to you,” said his mother with a tearful smile. “The light was you. And…” she smiled at Zelda, “you. And together…” she shook her head.

“Together you get a lot brighter,” said Chee. “Like, a lot. Way more than double.”

His mother laughed. “I don’t have the right words- to tell you- just how beautiful it is. I wish you could see it.”

Link’s sister raised her hand like a schoolchild, her eyes on Zelda, one eyebrow intensely arched.

“…Yeah, Chee?” Link asked cautiously.

“So… are you Princess Zelda?”

Zelda couldn’t help but laugh. “I am.”

Chee gawked and whacked Link’s arm.

“Ow-“

“You landed the Princess?!”

“It’s not-“

“And you didn’t even INTRODUCE her as the Princess?!!”

“Well, I didn’t want to- to-“

“To what, brag?”

“No, it’s just not what’s im-“

“It is so important-“

“Children,” their mother said.

They ceased so completely their hands froze mid-gesture.

The older woman offered her hand, palm up, to Zelda with a kind smile.

She took it, astonished to feel warm skin, no different from anyone else’s, a mere shimmer of blue at the outline setting her apart if she looked hard enough.

“My name is Junilla,” she said, placing her other hand over Zelda’s. “I am so sincerely pleased to meet you, Princess- and overjoyed that my son has found such love in his lifetime.”

Zelda returned the gesture, placing her other hand over the spirit’s. “I am grateful,” she said, “for this chance to meet you. That Link has been reunited with you after all this time…” she took a breath, “is a blessing.” Her gaze rose from Junilla to the eyes of the bargainer. The others’ gaze followed hers.

Chee traced the unfamiliar shapes of the statue’s eyes, a hand worrying in her lap. “How- how much time do we have?”

Junilla’s hand tightened for the space of a pulse around Zelda’s, searching the stone for an answer.

“The- bargainer didn’t say how long we could speak,” Link said softly, suddenly breathing strangely.

“The choice to move on is never mine,” the statue said.

Link blinked. “So- there’s no time limit?”

“I impose nothing. Yet my gift cannot extend beyond these walls.”

Link nodded, his face flat.

--

Ponnick and several Sheikah entered the space several times to check on them, so long they remained below.

They never appeared to notice the two strange women, though the Purah Pad had been able to take their pictures.

When she and Link finally left—at 5:17am according to the Purah Pad—the women faded without even a whisper of sound to two flickering blue flames, resting together beside the bargainer.

They would wait for Link’s father.

He and Zelda would begin their search in the depths beneath Akkala to find him—under the Citadel—though the bargainer warned that spirits may drift or become bound.

“End the final tide of gloom,” the bargainer said. “Only then may they all return home.”

Link seemed to understand.

They kept their appointments in Lookout Landing and Goron City for that morning and afternoon, having skipped their detour to the hidden spring of resurrection in favor of them. Link was unusually subdued as she’d expected, and her heart fell further and further as the day lengthened.

He’d barely smiled at Yunobo’s fist-bump.

He broke down in her arms, as she’d thought he would, at home in their bed, exhausted and shuddering with a grief which should have been foreign to him, as it should be to anyone—yet he had felt it before in lesser magnitude when the spirits of their friends, their allies, had become known to him, one by one and memory by memory, a sudden knowledge of what had been lost.

He’d even grieved over her in this way, for he’d no way to know she would emerge from the Calamity’s innards as a living being.

Zelda could not imagine it.

All she could do was hold him, kiss the crown of his head, stroke his hair, tell him it was alright.

“I am here, my love,” she said. “I am with you, and I shall stay.”

He nodded, unable, for the moment, to speak.

It was days later, the Sun a deep gold resting in a bed of lavender above the stand of trees west of their garden, when Link suddenly took her by the waist with his only-for-her smile and kissed her, gentle and questioning, then deeper as she rose to meet him, passionate, her arms wrapping about his neck, their bodies moving as a single unfettered wave. Her mouth parted from his breathless.

“L- Link,” she said.

He kissed her again, on her jaw—behind her ear.

“Are- you alright?” she breathed despite her body’s insistence that now was not the time to worry.

He breathed a very soft laugh in her ear and pulled back to look in her eyes. His hands left her hips to cup her face.

He spent a very long moment just like that. When he spoke, the sweet summer breeze danced with the sunflowers, his soft voice like its rustle through the birch leaves.

“I don’t want to remember what I’ve lost only to forget what I have.”

Her hand covered one of his, pressing it to her cheek.

“I love you so much,” he said, his smile growing, a joy nestled there despite the shadow always upon his features. A hint of mischief twitched his mouth. “So much we attract poes in the dark.”

A laugh burst from her. “Link- you are indeed the love of my life, but I’d rather thought it was our magic-“

But Link was shaking his head. “Magic, sure, for glowing when we’re alone, but… the light of a thousand Suns? That’s love. I know it.”

A memory burst to her mind’s eye, of a power as though the surface of the Sun itself, flowing from her as her knight clung to the thread of life behind her.

It had been love then. She knew that. Love of Link which had hurled her bodily before him, willing to die in his stead.

She pulled him close and tight—placed a long, gentle kiss on his cheek. He breathed a laugh and nuzzled her hair.

“You are- absolutely right, Link,” she said. “Absolutely right.”

They held each other, quiet, unhurried as the soft changes in the palette of the sky, restful as the setting sun, resting in the place sought by all the little lights far below—that place in Link’s eyes: a far deeper depth than any within this earth, for eternity had no limit.

She ought to have understood it sooner.

The lifetime of the Light Dragon had been a mere blink of an eye.

Link would love her far longer.

It wasn't transient.

Nor was his love for his sister, his mother, or his yet-unfound father. What resurrection had taken from him in life would have been found beyond the bargainer's crossing, just as she and Link would follow each other to the spirit realm, to whatever lay beyond.

Some well deep within herself whispered in the language of forgotten memories, a truth woven of silent echoes, veiled shades of her many selves passing through her as a thick-muffled feeling—and in that moment, safe and warm in Link’s arms, she felt they had done so before. Over and over again, passing in and out of death and life and realms and voids and time together, and always each other’s light.

She looked at Link, eyes and mouth wide open in a sort of shock, as though seeing him for the first time—as though just having remembered him.

“Zelda?!” He ducked, flickering from feature to feature of her face, his thumbs brushing tenderness on her cheeks and temples. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Oh- oh yes,” she said, her voice shuddering. Her next smile glowed, for him and only him, all else in reality falling from her present. “I love you, Link.”

He grew a smile to match hers and then some. “You sound surprised,” he said with a chuckle.

She took his face in her hands and kissed his mouth, softly, full of reverence, and it felt like a first time. Link’s palm came to rest flat on the table beside her, pressing hard, bracing himself against a force Zelda felt, too, and welcomed—a compulsion to rejoin, to reunite. A shocking elation flooded her that he was wholly him, that he carried no spectre of an ancient king, no matter how benevolent, by his side, and she surged forward against him, delving, caressing: worshiping.

Her kiss released by a hair’s breadth, the heat of their lips a promise of imminence. Link’s heart raced against her elbow where it met his chest. “Z- el,” he said, utterly breathless, even more than he’d made her.

“I’ve always loved you,” she said, her voice quiet’s paramour. “And I always will.”

He stood before her, an avatar of adoration, every aspect of his being focused on her, the softness in his eyes unlike any she’d seen outside those moments he watched her at pleasure’s height. He brushed his lips to hers—not a kiss: a caress.

“You understand,” he said.

She kissed him again, her hands carding through his hair, thrilled when his eyes fluttered shut. She pulled back, a pause. “I do, now.”

“Forever,” he said.

“Through death and life again,” she answered.

In bed that night, Link slept soundly, his arms wrapped around her and his head resting on her chest. She sat partway up against the pillows, stroking his hair and thinking in a way she hadn’t in her waking life: a thinking more like feeling—more like acceptance.

This life was a gift.

A time to feel with skin, with heart and blood.

A time to be separate.

Not because they wished to be—but because it made their reunions that much more joyful.

And when it came time to fade from the physical, there would be nothing to separate them. They would be as one.

Death was not the end.

Birth was not the beginning.

And love…had neither.

She held Link a little tighter, smiling at his sleeping grumble, and closed her eyes.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for keeping tabs on an ex friend?

So basically, years ago there was this huge split in my friend group. It was over some dumb bullshit, not really relevant. One of these friends (ill call them Kate) was particularly bitter.

A little while later, once we were adults, a friend (lets call them Ron) broke up with their toxic bf (lets call him Vince)

Flashforward a few months, and now Vince and Kate are dating and living together. They start to stalk us online and in real life, even so far as to take a picture of Ron at an event we all happened to be at. I should mention that Vince is well known for holding intense grudges and doing absolutely wild things like writing extremely inflammatory posts about them, contacting ppl theyre associated to claim they're bad people, trying to report fake fire-able offenses to people's work, etc etc

So, understandably, everyone is really scared in my friend group that Kate and Vince are planning something. Like some kind of plot to try and ruin our lives. It sounds dramatic, but we've witnessed the lengths that Vince will go to doctor screenshots and events before. It's landed in other people's detriment - loss of work, friends, partners, etc.

Here's where I could be TA.

Kate has a private acc that they let a lot of people into. It's not super super private, has like 70 followers, and it's really only locked so they can vet people and avoid bot followers. So I may have made a bit of a ghost account to follow it. My logic behind this is that I know they have a history of posting the shit they plan to do on their locked acc. My reasoning is just that I check in every so often to make sure they aren't still following us around in real life or planning to try and get us fired.

They're moving away next year and because they won't be in close proximity anymore, I intend to delete the acc then. But I understand that this might be stalkerish behavior so I just want to get the unbiased opinion here.

TL:DR; a couple of ex friends tend to stalk ppl so I followed their private accs to make sure they aren't stalking me

What are these acronyms?

[thevirgodoll]

Sometimes I think about how society genuinely rewards hyper-independent behavior. It’s more acceptable to be avoidant and detach than it is to go inward. Wanting connection during a tough time gets met with a lack of perspective. It breaks my heart to see so many people lose their support systems.

And, honestly, I’d say that hyper-independent response has risen due to the pandemic. We were all detached from each other and missed out on intimacy. As a response, there is a longing for connection but a gap in knowledge as to how frequent and how proximal that connection should be.

There’s also a loss of empathy because everyone’s for themselves and have had to be for so long. This is why people are afraid to share their struggles with their close friends in fear of “dumping”. I hate how no one knows the difference between dumping and venting due to these armchair psychologists on TikTok, Twitter, etc. And, yes, there’s a possibility that you can cross the line but avoidant behavior will only isolate you even more and rob people in your life of the opportunity to give you love.

Friends are supposed to be there, and while all of our friends may show up differently, this obsession with extreme avoidance (often disguised as self preservation) is why people have so much trouble keeping their friends in their 20s. Boundaries are always important to discuss because they are the foundation of so many relationships.

At the same time, the key is recognizing these needs while allowing friends to support you in a time of need. The key is taking the time to schedule ~friend dates~ and talks. The key is trusting yourself to trust others, and working on whatever is in the way of that. This is how you nurture closeness…at this age it takes dedication and courage because education won’t always be a commonality to do the work for us. Eventually, we will have to learn proper communication skills and that is only possible if everyone looks in the mirror to address emotional immaturity.

We have to show our friends we love them, we need them just as much as a romantic dynamic. It’s unwise to ignore that humans have always had some form of platonic connection… to convince yourself that that is not necessary is a first class flight to self sabotage.

What I’m trying to say is attachment and detachment must coexist in a balance. An extreme of one or the other is a trauma response. Avoidance truly is suppression disguised as safety in a room full of traps.