#there's slow dancing (MY BRAND) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

helloporcelain · 8 months

Text

Doux

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion/fem!Tav Rating: explicit (18+) Tags: oral sex (involving period blood), piv sex, blood drinking, mutual pining, slow burn, orgasm denial, mentions of Astarion's trauma (but not graphic), there's also like the TINIEST mention of rimming & breathplay but i promise it's so mild, oneshot Summary: Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. Read on AO3 if you prefer

Tav couldn't help but celebrate.

The last couple of days had been grueling. Gods, it had felt so good to finally get back to camp. A dip in the cool river, followed by a change into the lovely dress Alfira had gifted her, had Tav feeling like a brand new person for the night. She had stuffed herself so full on a feast of cheese pies and grilled pork belly that she nearly threw up, and then after, she dramatically retold the story of the goblin slaying to the group of wide-eyed children. It felt like a massive weight was lifted off her shoulders – she and her companions had been awarded a win, one they really needed.

Grateful tieflings swarmed Tav the entire night, showering her with wine-fueled hugs of gratitude. She waved off their praises, insisting that it had been a team effort and encouraged the others to accept their share of recognition as well, because there was no way she could’ve done it all by herself. Eventually, Tav found herself sandwiched between Shadowheart and Karlach on a log. The two women were drunk and engaged in unabashed flirtatious banter with each other. Tav, however, kept her wits about her. She took a swig from a tepid mug of ale, her eyes locked onto Astarion across the camp. He was visibly annoyed by the children surrounding him, all clamoring to catch a glimpse of the bow he used to slay goblins.

In the midst of all the chaos, he caught her staring at him through the dancing tieflings. Astarion tipped his head sideways, as if asking a question. Startled, she choked on her drink, inadvertently spilling some on Karlach.

“Oops,” Tav said, as Shadowheart leaned over her lap to wipe off the ale from Karlach’s pants before the sizzle of the burning liquid caused her to yelp and quickly withdraw her hand.

“We really need to fix that, don’t we?” Shadowheart muttered sarcastically, fanning her injured hand, attempting to cool it down.

“Maybe lay off the wine,” Tav suggested sarcastically. “I’m going to go make my rounds. The people need their gracious host.”

She set off to mingle with the others, and felt the stare radiating through her as she joined the nearby chatter. Lia and Cal, to be exact, were begging for Rolan to present some fireworks. Rolan conjured a rather underwhelming prestidigitation spell, prompting Tav to tuck her mug under her armpit and offer a polite clap after an awkward pause. Round and round, Tav meandered through the camp as she talked to everyone, hells, even Withers, avoiding Astarion as if her life depended on it. With each new person, they topped her mug off with fresh ale.

As the night wore on and the ale warmed her cheeks, Tav found herself growing increasingly uninhibited. By the time she reached Halsin, she couldn’t resist flirting with him. Who could blame her? Halsin’s gigantic muscles had called out to her, and he was nothing if not good natured. The mountain of an elf laughed off her inebriated advances gently – his head was elsewhere, not that she blamed him.

“There are many grateful people here who would want to spend time with you,” Halsin said, a glint in his eye. Tav wanted to follow the look, but chose not to, knowing where it trailed behind her. “I must not keep you all to myself. As enjoyable as that may be.”

She offered something of an agreement before she wandered off to the nearby river, seeking solace and a moment to contemplate on her thoughts, away from the songs and dancing.

The first time Astarion fed on her, Tav had accidentally fallen into a trance one night outside her tent. She had insisted the rest of her companions get some sleep while she cleaned up from the mess they made at supper. After washing the cauldron out in the river, she lugged it back to the fire and had meant to sit down for just a second of rest. Before she knew it, she had drifted off, only to awaken with Astarion hovering over her, teeth bared, wearing an expression she had never seen before. With a dagger pressed to his chest, the look was gone, replaced by a frantic attempt to explain why he had loomed over her so ominously. She couldn't fathom why he was scared; he knew her knife skills were almost as poor as Gale's.

When he confessed the truth, Tav's heart grew heavy – heavy for the way he asked for her trust, no, insisted that she could trust him. Every instinct in her screamed she would be foolish to, but she did.

But she was firm; he could feed on her this one time. After that, it was enemies only, or else. Companions weren’t food, they needed their strength just as he did, and he would not become accustomed to using her – or any of them, for that matter – to satisfy his needs.

Not that any of the others lined up to be his bloodwell... though the group tolerated Astarion, there’d been a sense of uneasiness among the others about the truth.

Tav braced herself for discomfort at best (and suffering, at worst), but she was completely thrown when all she felt was desire. The unexpected pleasure took her by surprise, though it made sense in hindsight. If it were nothing but pain, vampires wouldn't have gained their notorious reputation for seduction. It felt as though Astarion had plunged his fingers into the depths of her chest and held her heart in a vice-like grip. The more blood he drew from her, the more she wanted for Astarion to take everything he needed, even at the cost of her own life. In the briefest second, Tav felt herself fading away to the gentle chill of her lifesource dwindling, her neck so numb she couldn’t parse out where his fangs were. In the end, she barely pushed him off her, doubting his self control. Tav noticed the change in Astarion immediately – his face looked brighter, his eyes less dull. Before he left, he promised he wouldn’t forget the gift that she had given him.

Two weeks later, Tav surprised herself by offering her blood to him a second time.

The camp was quieter than usual. It had been a long day and it had taken its toll on them all. Auntie Ethel turned out to be much more than they had anticipated – offering no cure, only trouble. Shadowheart had gone to her tent for her evening prayers. Gale blew his candles out early, claiming eight hours of sleep was necessary for his mind, body, and complexion. The rest sat by the fire, settling for a bit of relaxation before they retired for the night. Lae’zel, Wyll and Karlach were engaged in a very competitive game of cards while Astarion lounged nearby, engrossed in a book he had stolen from the hag’s teahouse.

Tav had been writing furiously in her journal next to him, when she reached down to her satchel, rummaging through to find an apple for dessert. She couldn’t help but peek at him through the corner of her eye. Astarion had been unusually silent since their return to camp. She had a feeling he was tense from their run in with the monster hunter earlier that day. During the exchange, she noticed a second of panic run across his face as Gandrel revealed who he was searching to capture. The monster hunter never did end up accomplishing his job – courtesy of Astarion and his dagger.

“If you have something to say, Tav, darling,” he said, his eyes fixed on his book. “You should just say it. It’s ill-mannered to stare.”

Tav turned the apple over in her lap, contemplating if it was smart to broach the subject, then began nonchalantly, “I don’t suppose you want to address what happened earlier.”

“You want to hear about Cazador,” Astarion said with a tired disdain. “My old master. Before the mind flayers took me from him. Before this strange, twisted freedom.” He slammed the book shut with one hand, and Tav listened intently as he painted a picture of Cazador. A cruel, paranoid master who tortured Astarion for two centuries. A monster obsessed with power, a monster of which it was very clear that Astarion would go to great lengths to never return to.

It was so much worse than Astarion had let on.

“Why do you think he wants you alive?” she asked.

Astarion pursed his lips. “Maybe he wants to make an example of me. To show what happens to runaways.” He cast his eyes aside before giving her a solemn look. “Or, maybe, he thinks death is too good for me.”

Tav had always known that Astarion wore a mask, but she had never realized just how often it was in place. It was a remarkably well crafted one, but every mask was bound to slip off at some point. From the very first day they crossed paths, she had found something about him to be perplexing, though she couldn't put her finger on it. She had thought of him as arrogant, a little malicious, and selfish. Yet, in that moment, as his gaze drifted far away into the embers of the fire, she saw something else—a hint of fear.

“I’m sorry, Astarion,” she said with sincerity. There wasn’t much else for her to say, and she doubted he wanted empty platitudes.

Astarion nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, but – this isn’t about sympathy. It’s about knowing what we might be up against. The mind flayers aren’t the only monsters out there, hunting us. All I’m asking is that you keep your eyes open, and watch out for anything lurking in the shadows.”

Her hand inched closer to his fingers, an inhumane chill radiating from them. Tav thought about putting her hand over his in comfort, but thought it too intimate of a gesture for them. “As long as I’m around, I’ll watch your back,” she promised. “You will never go back to him. I won’t let it happen.”

Astarion’s posture relaxed as he pulled his hand away from the warmth of hers, and gave her a smile – the one that never reached his eyes. “What more could I ask for? Now, is that all?”

His fingers tapped a restless beat on his book, as though they might start flipping the pages on their own. Tav studied his face. He had deep mauve bags under his eyes, and his gaze had darkened to the color of oxblood. She wondered how many animals he must have voraciously consumed to still remain so far from the vibrant state he had been in after she had shared her blood with him. Tav weighed the decision to offer him her blood again. She pictured Astarion feeding on rats as if daintily sipping tea from a tiny cup and it was somewhat amusing, but mostly it just made her pity him.

“I was thinking…” she paused, looking down to the apple in her lap. She brought it up to her face and peered at it, checking it for worms.

“Oh no. That’s never a good sign.”

Rolling her eyes, she continued, "...that you looked more weary than usual. Perhaps you might fancy a bite?" His fingers slowed their tapping as his eyes fixated on her mouth. Tav crunched into the apple and cocked her head at him.

"Well," Astarion replied, a hint of pleasant surprise in his tone. "I suppose if you're offering a treat, then who am I to turn you down?"

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Tav said, expression stern as she emphasized her words. “We won’t make a habit of this. But… we do need you strong for when we reach the goblin camp.”

Astarion’s smile changed into the nefarious smirk that she was familiar with. “If you say so,” he purred, leaning closer to whisper in her ear. “Come to my tent after the others have fallen asleep.”

Two hours later, she cursed herself for picking the furthest possible area from him to lay down her tent. Tav quietly crept across the camp to Astarion, pausing every couple of steps just to listen for snores. She just didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea; as the unofficial leader of the group, feeding Astarion was a purely strategic move.

Sneaking past Karlach was nerve-wracking – she had an open tent, explaining that she ran too hot in an enclosed space. Luckily, the barbarian slept still like a boulder. It was Scratch, who dozed at her feet, that made Tav pause. She brought her finger to her lips and gestured for the dog to stay quiet, his sleepy eyes following her until she reached Astarion's tent. She crouched and leaned against the closed fabric.

Not knowing what to say, Tav whispered, “Dinner’s here.”

“Cute. Come in, darling.”

Tav poked into the tent and found him reclining on his bedroll, propped up by an excessive number of pillows, more than anyone else had. He had stolen them in Waukeen’s Rest, grumbling about missing the comfort of a proper bed like a civilized person. It was her first time seeing the inside of his tent, and she couldn't resist taking it all in. The inside was dimly lit by a single candle atop a stack of looted books, and next to him was a tray hosting an array of colorful rings and necklaces he collected from both unsuspecting innocents and dead bodies. Even out in the wilderness, Astarion was opulent. He had changed into his fine nightclothes and looked at her with a raised eyebrow – she was still wearing her muddy, fight-stained cloak.

“Ah, right.” She looked down at herself. “I washed up, promise. Just didn’t want to traipse around at this hour in my nightshirt.” She shrugged the coat off onto the ground, revealing a plain night outfit. “I don’t plan on being in here long.”

"Well, make yourself comfortable nonetheless," Astarion beckoned, sitting up and gesturing towards the snug space they now shared. “Just be very quiet and our little midnight rendezvous will stay a secret.” He shuffled on his pillows, inviting her closer.

“I should’ve hoarded some pillows like you,” Tav remarked. “You’re resting like a little princess.”

Astarion chuckled. "Oh, my dear, you'll be sleeping quite soundly after I'm finished here. Come, sit on my lap." She hesitated, making a reluctant face.

"Now, don't be difficult," he continued with a playful grin. "It'll be far more comfortable for you this way. I wouldn't want to accidentally suffocate you again, as I nearly did last time." Tav inched towards him, careful to not touch anywhere but the bedroll. She knelt down and followed his request, straddling him while placing a hand on his shoulder for support. A sudden shiver ran down her spine as she felt just how icy he was, catching her off guard.

"Sorry," Tav broke the silence, "You’re so cold. I grew up with the chill, but you’re different."

“I have bad circulation,” Astarion replied dryly.

Tav shifted her body on him, hoping he didn’t realize how mortified she was. "Are you comfortable?"

He responded with an earnest chuckle and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. "You're rather adorable, aren't you?" He gently pushed her face to the side, positioning her neck at the perfect angle for him. "I knew you liked this more than you let on."

“Don’t speak nonsense,” she spluttered, her head snapping back to look at him. “I am doing you a favor.”

Astarion adjusted her face to the side again, his hand now more firmly gripping her chin. “Don’t be coy,” he murmured, low and seductive. “Your body has already given you away.”

He leaned into her neck, taking in her smell, lips hovering over her bare skin. “I could feel it, you know, as I was getting lost in your neck. Your little shakes of excitement.” Tav’s back stiffened and she felt the urge to leap and run out the tent, but his other arm tightened its grasp around her hip. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

Her body betrayed her when she gasped as his mouth pressed against her skin, goosebumps prickling her arms and the back of her neck.

“You don’t have to say a thing. I already know how you feel. I feel it too.”

And then he sunk his fangs into the pulse of Tav’s neck, her fingers digging into his arm. Her stinging skin parted under his sharp teeth with frightening ease. Tav never thought of herself as delicate, but she felt as vulnerable as a little rabbit torn apart by a hound.

She jerked suddenly when Astarion bit down harder, willing her frantically beating heart to pump more blood faster into his mouth. He made a small noise, something resembling relief, as each droplet surged past his lips. Sucking away and lapping at the wound at the base of her neck, as if he were merely cleaning up a small mess he made, caused an electric sensation to shoot through her spine and then down to her groin. His hands dug a tighter grip into the sides of her body as he sucked and sucked and sucked. Black dots slowly speckled her vision as if distant stars were blinking into existence. She let out a choked whimper, her body quivering beyond her control. Blissed out crimson eyes met hers as he pulled away briefly, his lips glistening with her life's essence. His gaze burned into her, the hunger swirling in his eyes.

“That’s a strange definition of quiet.”

Before she could reply, Astarion placed a firm palm over her mouth. With his lips away from her neck, she felt her blood flow down her collarbones, dripping into the hollow of her chest. He tongued at the trail at the top of her shoulders, lapping up the burgundy rivulets. She shuddered as he went lower to her ruffled nightshirt, and he gently pulled down at it just enough to lazily clean up the remaining droplets at the top of her breasts.

Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to control her breathing, and that was when Tav noticed the hardness pressed underneath her. “Just a little more, darling,” Astarion panted.

His tongue scorched on her skin as he licked up the trail, fangs grazing her skin on his way back to the puncture marks. His hand fell from Tav’s mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head as another gush of warm blood hit his tongue, coating every crevice of his mouth.

“Astarion.”

His name tumbled out from her in a moan, as she was painfully aware in equal parts both of the erection against her and the wetness soaking through her undergarment. He didn’t respond, but he did stop suckling at her neck. “You can stop now.”

Then with a degree of reluctance, he removed his lips from her, mouth and chin so completely covered in her blood that it looked morbidly lewd. Tav looked up at him with wide eyes, heart pounding.

“We could get some privacy,” Astarion murmured after a few seconds passed. His fingers traced down her back, sending a tickle through her backbone. She stiffened, keeping her eyes fixed on his, a reply trapped in her throat. “To enjoy ourselves more. I know somewhere quiet, not far from here.” He shifted his lap and pressed himself against her, to show her what he meant, if he wasn’t clear enough.

Tav’s resolve wavered for a moment, but she quickly composed herself and moved to push herself off him, though his arms behind her back kept her in place. “That– that's enough, actually,” she responded, her ragged breath catching up to an even pace. She wasn’t going to respond to his suggestion. Tav knew he was toying with her, that he thought her naive.

“You’re looking better already, for a dead man,” Tav said coolly. He huffed in annoyance and leaned back, granting her space to stand up from his lap. “Your eyes,” she observed. “They glow when you feed on me. A person’s blood does wonders for you."

Astarion lifted his hand up to his mouth, swiping off the wet, shining blood. He coated his fingers with what remained and languidly sucked, keeping a fixed gaze on her that made her want to run for the hills.

“That is the understatement of the century, my dear.”

Tav tried to hide the way her fingers trembled as she attempted to button up her cloak, haphazardly connecting the wrong ones. He watched her intently as she covered up his bite with the garment. She opened the flap halfway and, before she left, turned to face Astarion, her voice firm. “Don’t expect this again.”

Astarion offered a wry smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Astarion didn't fancy himself a connoisseur of puzzles and riddles. He loathed prolonged attempts at figuring things out. Patience was a virtue he seldom possessed, especially if figuring out something – or someone – took too long. He supposed he'd grown accustomed to resolving things rather quickly, a skill honed during centuries of servitude to his demanding master, Cazador.

Well… former master. But Astarion didn't want to regard Cazador in past terms, not just yet. He didn’t feel he had the luxury. Not while the wicked vampire lord was actively searching for him. Astarion was skilled at deception, but he refused to lie to himself; fear gnawed at him relentlessly and he found himself barely able to meditate in peace most of the time. He was plagued by nightmares of Cazador finding him and dragging him back into his clutches. So, he conceived of backup plan upon backup plan. He didn’t entirely rule out Raphael – the devil potentially had the power to free him from Cazador, but it would undoubtedly come with strings attached. Would the worm wriggling behind his eye be key to his freedom? Perhaps, if he didn’t turn into a mindflayer first.

Ironically, all of those possibilities just meant merely shifting him from one master’s control to another.

Astarion sighed, keeping a watchful eye on Mol. She thought she was being quite sneaky, attempting to pickpocket him. He flicked the child in the forehead as punishment, and sent her scampering away with a handful of rings he had deliberately allowed her to take.

Why had he been granted a second, well, technically third chance at life, only to be confronted with one grim option after another? What had he done in his previous life to deserve this? He had been so young when he turned, Astarion couldn't quite recall the details anymore. He remembered working for the government—and probably was not the most benevolent magistrate back then—but surely, he couldn't have been any worse than any other charlatan. It’s not like he kicked children or orchestrated an illicit gnome trafficking ring, right?

His chain of thoughts broke at the sight of Tav’s bright eyes locked on him from across the camp. She averted her gaze when he returned the look. After that, all he could see was the curtain of her hair veiling her face as she maneuvered around the camp, chatting with everybody else.

Tav seemed perfectly normal in their day to day, but Astarion knew that she was avoiding him. It had been that way since the last time he had fed on her. And she was right to avoid him; it was a foolish thing she had done, trusting Astarion like that. She just couldn’t help herself, could she? Anyone who batted an eyelash at her and cried a sob story got a helping hand from her, it didn’t matter who. She didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t how the world worked – some people weren’t destined to be helped, no matter how often they prayed to the gods.

Tav was good and it sickened him.

Without her, Astarion thought, he would’ve been content to let the tieflings meet their fate, either slaughtered on the road or at the hands of the druids – it didn’t make a difference to him. In fact, he doubted the others really cared to resolve the whole Druids vs Tieflings dispute in the midst of their tadpole predicament. But Tav rallied them just the right amount that none of them could ever say no to her.

The others genuinely valued her opinion, and often looked to her for guidance, whether they realized it or not. Being on Tav’s good side was the intelligent thing to do, Astarion had quickly gathered. She had vouched for him when the others recoiled at his true nature – most would have stabbed a stake through his heart for what he stupidly attempted to do that night. He needed her on his side. Astarion wasn’t sure what would end up happening after reaching Moonrise Towers, and he was ashamed to admit he didn’t want to go at it alone. He didn’t know how to be alone. The entire concept of solitude unsettled him.

The men and women he was accustomed to manipulating for Cazador crumbled before him with little effort. Seduction had been his modus operandi for over two centuries. Honeyed words and enticing caresses were second nature to Astarion, always serving as a sinister means to a grim end – delivering innocent victims into the clutches of Cazador for torture, death, or worse.

This was precisely what made Tav simultaneously so magnetic and so frustrating. She hadn't succumbed to his charms as expected. Astarion had even briefly entertained the possibility that maybe she just wasn’t interested in men, but that idea was dismissed when he overheard a late-night conversation between her and Lae’zel, who had made quite an aggressive advance – one she promptly rebuffed. So, what would it take to make her more receptive to his advances?

“Sulking will ruin your pretty face, Astarion.” Shadowheart’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I thought you, of all people, would know how to have a little fun tonight.”

He scoffed at her, dramatically eyeing her figure up and down. “If that were possible, then you would be the ugliest one here, my dear.”

Shadowheart stared at him for a moment and then broke out into an uncharacteristic giggle. “We have a long road ahead – be happy that we are all still in one piece, and celebrate for just one night. I know I am,” she said, waving a bottle of wine towards him.

“Is that Marsember Blush?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, recognizing the fine vintage wine. “Where did you unearth that? I know that didn’t come from the tiefling’s sorry supplies.”

“You’re not the only one with sticky fingers,” Shadowheart replied, a sly smile on her lips. “And no, I’m not offering any to you. I already have someone to share it with.” With that, she made her way back to the fire near Karlach, who was engrossed in showing the tiefling children her burning Hellion heart.

He scanned the area for Tav and he found her staring at Halsin with an adoring look. Astarion couldn’t help but feel envious that he wasn’t the recipient of the smile, so gentle that it betrayed the notorious reputation that followed dark elves. He frowned, thinking of Shadowheart's words – she was right. He would have a little fun tonight, and he would get Tav to adore him so thoroughly that she wouldn't ever entertain the thought of betraying him.

Astarion impatiently tapped his foot, waiting for Tav to approach him, but she continued on, disappearing around a corner and heading toward a waterfall beyond the camp. Deciding to follow, he snagged a bottle of wine from a passed-out bard and made his way to her. Astarion found her sitting against a boulder, her head tilted back as she gazed at the stars above.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Astarion said. “Done basking in the limelight, Tav? Got tired of having high praises sung to you?”

She fiddled with the collar of the lovely dress that she wore for the occasion. “I needed a moment to myself. I don’t get them often lately.” Tav looked up at him, her slate gray skin glowing in the moonlight. Despite the mismatched eyes (thanks to her trusting Volo a little too much), she was beautiful, he noted, and he did have a fondness for beautiful things. Bedding her wouldn't be torture; it could have been worse.

“I’m glad I was able to help them, to show that we’re not all Lolth’s servants. It’s usually a little funny, but sometimes being looked at like a monster is tiring,” Tav confessed.

He blinked, taken aback by Tav’s unexpectedly sincere admission, wondering if he had picked a bad moment to approach her. However, she patted the ground next to her, inviting him to sit, and then she chuckled. "Sorry. Did I ruin the mood?"

Astarion settled down against the rock, bumping his shoulder against hers. Tav watched him intently as he worked on removing the corkscrew from the wine. When he tilted the bottle in her direction as an offer, she declined with a shake of her head, prompting Astarion to take a sip himself. He grimaced from the acrid taste.

“Well, I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I’d be the one people would toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” he paused, taking another mouthful. “I hate it. It’s awful.”

“It’s not that bad. Think of all the nasty little goblins you got to kill.”

“True…” Astarion smiled impishly, thinking fondly on the many different ways to murder. Regular arrows dipped in poison or set ablaze with fiery magic, the thrust of a dagger into vulnerable flesh. The memories were invigorating.

“That was fun," he mused. "Still, I would've liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine. All I want is a little excitement tonight, is that so much to ask? The good kind – not the 'we might turn into hideous mind flayers at any moment' excitement." He sighed dramatically and raised the bottle for another sip.

Suddenly, she swiped the bottle from him, and took a long swig. When she lowered the bottle, he watched as her face juggled through a few emotions, ultimately landing on disgust. “See what I mean? Awful.”

“Absolutely dreadful," she remarked before bursting into laughter.

This close, her scent was intense, sending a thrill through his body. She had a distinct aroma, one that he could uniquely parse out from everyone else’s. Tav smelled of amber and spiced honey and pink pepper, even through the grime and chaos of their adventures.

“Well, you’ve heard the saying? Beggars can’t be choosers,” she slurred slightly, playfully hiding the bottle behind her back.

“Look at you… my treat with her cheeks all flushed,” he tutted. Astarion peered into her eyes with practiced adoration. “I’m amazed you managed to keep your mind clear enough to fight. I’ve been thinking about our last night together ceaselessly, you know.”

Astarion wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the last time she visited his tent.

He recalled vividly how she had melted under his teeth, the way her body went limp like a puppet cut from their strings. He had felt profoundly powerful, and she had tasted exquisite, nothing like the rats he had been forced to sustain himself on for centuries. An excitement he had never felt before coursed through his bones at the first droplet. Astarion told himself afterwards it was only because she was his first. He had hoped to have her then, to get the chase done with, as he could smell her arousal clear as day. She had obviously wanted more. And yet, she ran from him. Playing hard to get, he surmised.

“You could just ask for more blood,” Tav responded bitterly. “I knew the goblins weren’t for your refined palate.” The bottle was pushed back into his lap. “You don’t have to woo me with your—” She made a wild gesture with her hands. “—vampiric charms.”

He had hoped a wine-addled Tav would be easier to seduce.

“Darling, you wound me.” Astarion put a hand to his heart dramatically. “I saw you earlier, with Halsin. Well, everybody did. Subtlety is clearly not your forte. The way you looked at him had me positively green with envy. Well, I guess I can’t fault your taste, he is a fine specimen.”

Tav’s ears flushed with embarrassment and she looked away, fixating intently at the fish nearby. They swam down the stream and it reminded Astarion of her, eager to get away from him.

“That was nothing. Just laughter between friends,” she downplayed.

“Is it so hard to believe that hearing that brings me relief?”

Another truth. She would be considerably easier to have if she wasn’t attached to someone else.

"Is it so hard to believe…" He extended his hand to caress her cheek, his touch gentle and tender. “That I want you? That there’s not a single soul tonight, here or otherwise, who I’d rather be with.” When she met his gaze again, Astarion thought he might have caught his little fish by the hook after all.

“Such bewitching lies,” Tav marveled. “I almost believe them. Oh, you’re good.”

“You don’t have to believe what I say, darling. You just need to believe how I feel .”

He inched towards her, allowing the wine bottle to roll away from his lap and into the river. Astarion pressed a feather light kiss to her jaw, then her cheek. His fingers held her chin, guiding her to him. When their lips finally met, a sigh escaped her, and Astarion couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as her mouth willingly parted to welcome him. Despite the foul wine, she tasted sweet. And he found that he didn’t mind it, not at all.

Tav grew more enthusiastic, deepening the kiss. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue in, and clamped his teeth onto her bottom lip, drawing the flesh into his mouth. She moaned, muffled against him. He had drawn blood. He broke the kiss to lap the blood from her lips, and he felt his cock twitch. A natural reaction for any vampire, he told himself. Blood was simply too exciting.

Tav drew away from him, breathless, her lip bruised. “Are you…hungry, Astarion?” she asked.

Astarion considered her question. He could tell her yes. He could answer that he was always hungry, that he could drink and drink and there'd still be something missing, gnawing away in his chest. It was an insatiable yearning, an emptiness that no amount of blood would ever fill—a bleak hunger that defined his existence, a constant reminder of the curse that haunted him.

Or he could choose to play pretend instead. That would be easier to swallow.

He put on a mischievous smile. “In what way?”

"Don’t be cheeky," she said, a blush gracing her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I had a feeling you might be. It’s been some time... and you always seem so much stronger and happier when you've had your fill."

"And your point is?" Astarion asked, though he already had a sense where this was going. He just wanted to hear her say it.

“That I can help you. That you might as well continue to use me.” She winced at her phrasing. “I don’t have to be a vampire to understand that animals aren’t the same. I suppose if we come to an agreement about it, the others will have to mind their business. Just tell me when you need it. That is – if you want to, anyway.”

His eyes darkened at the proposition. “How delightfully pragmatic of you,” he purred in response.

Tav had given him a refreshing game of cat and mouse, but she succumbed to his beauty, just like everyone else before her. Astarion wished he could say he was surprised, but it’d be a lie. This was how it always worked. You want something, you need to give something. He would shut his brain off, bed her and give her a night of earth shattering pleasure; in return he was not only basically guaranteed protection from Cazador, but was also given a reliable source of blood. Two birds, one stone.

There was nothing else he needed to hear, so Astarion swiftly pulled her into his lap, a surprised squeak escaping her lips. “Hey–”

He pressed a finger to her lips and kissed behind her ear, then her neck. Tav let out a sigh of defeat and leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Astarion’s curled fingers traced at the healing puncture marks with admiration, thumbs pressing half-moons into her skin. He dragged the tip of a fang over her skin, slicing a neat line. Small beads of blood began to well up along the thin cut, and he closed his mouth over it and sank in. His third time, and yet it was just as exciting as the first – Astarion was well aware that anyone would be appetizing in contrast to his dismal vegetarian diet, but still wondered if others would be better, compared to her.

If that was possible. He wasn’t sure at that moment.

Astarion lost himself in an instant as he buried his senses in her neck, a haze of sensation enveloping him like an intoxicating fog. He had understood then Cazador's obsession—how could one not want to ensnare a person, to chain them in perpetual captivity, to render them an unwilling pet, when they tasted like this?

“Not too much,” Tav breathed heavily, her voice trembling. “I might –” She shuddered against him, and he groaned in response, but his hunger drove him forward. Astarion was starving, didn’t she understand? After two hundred years of shit, pure shit, he deserved something better. He was never going to return to the days of deprivation; he would do anything to ensure that pathetic version of himself was gone for good.

Tav’s fingers grasped around his curls, trying to pull him away from the shadow of her neck, but in her weakened state, it was no use. If anything, it spurred Astarion on. Euphoria clouded his judgement, eyes glazed over with sanguine lust as his fangs disappeared deeper into her tender flesh, blood bursting around him. He tugged at Tav’s hips, pressing her down against him, eliciting a whimper from her. His cock had swelled with arousal and Astarion tried to recall the last time he had gotten so hard of his own volition. He couldn’t.

You are still a slave, an unwelcome voice from the depths of his consciousness sneered. A slave to your innate desire. Why deny your true nature?

It took every ounce of willpower in his body to not drain her completely, to disregard the sinister suggestions. Astarion found the strength to pull away, his nose nuzzling against Tav’s jaw as he regained his composure.

"There's a clearing in the forest," he spoke with a steady voice, his fingers gently stroking her hair as she struggled to catch her breath. “I have been waiting to have you. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.”

Tav snorted. “I don’t believe you.”

“Don��t you?” He looked at her with steeled eyes, masking the irritation that simmered in him. He kept the thorniness out of his tone. “I think you want to be known. To be tasted.”

“And what do you want?”

Astarion’s voice hushed in a sensual murmur, the kind he found most weak willed people were prey to. “What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me.”

“You act like you know everything,” Tav replied, finally looking at him. Her expression was inscrutable, but the smell of desire radiating off her was unmistakable.

“A pretty man and his prettier words.” She cupped his face, as if she were to lean in and kiss him. But she didn’t. “I’m tired. I hope I was able to help you.”

Astarion watched dumbfounded as she pushed up from his cradle and his arms fell limp to his side. She rejected him again, he thought incredulously. He didn’t look away until she had turned and disappeared back into camp. Then he wiped the remaining blood off his face with his fingers, fully intending to savor what was left. But then something stole his attention—a motionless fish floating in the stream. Without thinking, he plunged his hands into the water to catch it. Astarion had it for a second, until it wriggled its way out and plopped back into the water, swimming away in a swirl of crimson.

They had been venturing through the labyrinth of the Underdark for countless days. It was a quiet familiarity that Tav was thankful for, despite the fact that she had left for the world above many years ago. After everything that she’d gone through recently, she welcomed something that still made sense to her. She understood it – tricky paths to avoid, what poisonous plants you shouldn’t go near, the right grounds to make camp on. Due to the nature of the journey she was on with her companions, however, she grew to anticipate unwelcome surprises.

Still, it hadn’t made it any easier to accept that her cycle had started – Tav had completely forgotten all about amidst the chaos of their tadpole predicament. Drow females only bled every three months and their cycles were extremely heavy and painful. It hit her one day as they were on the trail towards Grymforge, crossing paths with Filro the Forgotten and his hook horrors. The man hadn’t even let her utter a greeting before he attempted to murder them.

“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” Gale had complained, jumping out of the way.

Tav was in the middle of casting a fire spell when she felt a heavy gush in her underwear. She stuttered, registering the feeling, and attempted the spell again. This time, her aim was off, narrowly missing the wizard and instead scorching the hair on the top of his head.

"My friend, have you lost your mind?" Gale shouted at her. "We discussed the value of my own life at length! To kill me is counterproductive!"

Her hand went to her abdomen instinctively as the cramps lurched through her. “My bad,” she stammered. She took a few steps back, watching Karlach charge ahead with a hammer to whack the vulture-like monstrosity just a hair's breadth away from the wizard’s face.

"To be sure, I am also averse to being bludgeoned!" he yelled at Karlach. A dripping, acid-coated arrow flew overhead from behind him and pierced the Filro’s right eyeball. Gale threw his hands up in the air with exasperation and quickly teleported himself away to higher, safer ground, muttering something about the stars not being in his favor.

Lae’zel probed at Filro’s lifeless body with her foot. “The elf is dead,” she confirmed, sounding disappointed.

Astarion stepped up beside Tav, tucking his arrows away. “Did one of those wretched creatures manage to swipe at you?” His tone displayed concern, but his face betrayed a hint of intrigue.

Shadowheart whipped her head around at his question. “Are you hurt?” she asked, scanning Tav’s body for noticeable wounds. “I’ll tend to you when we’ve set up camp for the night.”

“No!” Tav blustered, causing Shadowheart to raise her eyebrows in confusion. She quickly clarified: “I’m fine . Astarion is mistaken. I think you might do well to take a look at Gale, though. I may have caused a bald spot.”

In the hours that followed, Tav maintained her distance from Astarion – as he had made it abundantly clear that he could smell her – while they all continued their search for a spot to set up camp. Eventually, they stumbled on an area with access to freshwater, a true blessing. By this point, Tav was simply relieved to have her long cloak, otherwise the others would’ve known for sure that she was bleeding through her trousers like a youngling. She diligently set up her tent, choosing a spot far away from Astarion and close to the lake.

Astarion had not asked to feed on her since they left for the Underdark, and Tav had no intention of offering, especially considering the situation unfolding between her thighs.

Their interactions had remained normal as can be, largely because Tav had bigger matters to occupy her mind than pondering her feelings for him, as if she were a little girl with a crush. Time was a valuable commodity lately and she wouldn’t use her precious free moments dwelling on a man who almost certainly didn’t give her a second thought, unless it was to take something from her. Tav scolded herself every time she found herself looking at him too long or when she thought she saw something softer underneath the shield of malevolence he wore. It was all just a game to him, she told herself, like it was to most vampires.

After everyone had gone to bed, Tav finally snuck out to wash her clothes at the lake and go for a dip in the water. She wasn’t a prude – she had bathed many times with the women, but sometimes she just desperately needed a moment to herself. Even for something as silly as scrubbing the stains of her cycle out from her pants. She finished cleaning up and made her way back to her tent, dismayed that her fresh cloth was already getting ruined. Tav nearly jumped out her skin when she walked into her bunk and saw Astarion lying nonchalantly on her bedroll.

“Are you mad?” she hissed at him. “You’re lucky I’m not human, or I would’ve had half a mind to stab you in the darkness.”

“We both know you wouldn’t have been quick enough to,” Astarion drawled, sitting up. “You sorcerers leave much to be desired when it comes to your hand-eye coordination.”

They looked at each other for a beat, both listening for any stirring sounds from the others.

“Why are you here?” Tav demanded.

Astarion replied with a sly grin. “I happen to recall a certain somebody making the generous offer that if I ever got hungry, I could come to them.”

Tav’s fingers combed through her damp hair as she reflected back on an offer she did indeed make.

“I did say that, yes,” she admitted. “But we can’t tonight. Not until I–”

She halted, a painful cramp pulsing through her.

“…Until I’m done with my bleeding. I’ve lost too much already, I’ll be too weak for you to feed on and Gods know if you end up draining me, you’ll have to wake a very cranky Shadowheart up.”

Tav opened her tent and held her arm out, signaling for him to get out. “We can revisit this in a few days. I’ll let you know when.”

“Revisit? What, like we’re discussing tactical advances?” Astarion bristled with frustration as he stood up.

"My dear, I don't believe you grasp the... gravity of the situation. Your scent–“ He accused, his tone growing more intense. "–has been tormenting me for hours. It has taken every ounce of restraint in my being to resist the urge to drag you away from the others and drink until I’ve drowned in your blood. I am utterly and maddeningly ravenous.”

Her hand faltered from the tent flap, closing them in the obscurity of her tent again.

“It won’t have to hurt like usual.” His pupils dilated wildly as he inched closer. Astarion looked feral. “No biting required. I’d hate to waste precious resources.”

Tav’s face paled when she realized what he was suggesting. She didn’t think she was comfortable with the idea, and yet a warmth started blooming through her.

“And it might provide a distraction from the pain in your belly,” he hummed, latching her tent shut. “I’d say this benefits the both of us.”

“Who’s the pragmatic one now?” Tav answered, her toes tingling. It was a very bad idea, she told herself, way too intimate for what she originally offered.

But when Astarion kneeled down, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns up her thighs before he pressed a gentle kiss against her abdomen, and whispered, "Please, darling," she made up her mind.

It was the sensible thing to do. In fact, she reasoned with herself, if she gave Astarion perfectly acceptable, readily available blood now, she wouldn't have to put herself through any more bites for a while. His intense gaze met hers as he looked up, his eyes filled with a potent mix of hunger and desire. His nails gently scraped against the back of her knees, willing her to answer him.

“Be quick about it,” she finally relented.

Astarion wasted no time. He turned her around and pushed her onto her bedroll, tugging at the waistband of her pants, shimmying them over her knees. He fingered at the sides of her underwear, leaning down to kiss the top of her navel. Tav’s insides fluttered from the sensation of him peppering her from top to bottom. His nose pressed against the dampness of the fabric and she nearly blacked out of embarrassment from the deep inhale he took.

“You smell intoxicating,” Astarion groaned. “Like the very essence of temptation.” He nearly ripped her bottoms off, throwing them to the ground thoughtlessly along with her soiled rag. His cold breath tickled against her. "It's like I'm a moth drawn to a burning flame. I didn't know it was possible for you to smell even more enticing," he said, genuine bewilderment coloring his tone.

“No need to provide commentary…” Tav mumbled, averting her gaze.

Astarion pushed her legs up over his shoulders, spreading her thighs apart to reveal her slick mound. She started to drip with arousal, a stark contrast to the inky blood that painted her folds.

“Like honeyed fire, so rich and delicious it ensnared me. I felt it – tasted it – in my throat before I came anywhere near you.”

He dipped the tips of his index and middle fingers to spread her apart, dragging his tongue in one icey, long lick. The chill, a shock to her core, made her twitch as he licked her agonizingly slow from clit to tailbone. He lapped around her inner thighs, nipping at the flesh, forcing a shiver up her spine. Astarion let out a noise when she involuntarily jerked her body against his face, thighs clenching around his head. He swirled his tongue all around, his nose grazing her nub.

“Oh,” Tav moaned. Her eyes widened in alarm at the unapproved noise, as if it was an admission of weakness, but it only seemed to encourage him to tongue her faster. Biting down on her knuckle was the only way for Tav to suppress the noise that threatened to spill from her mouth as he ate her like a savage animal having its final meal. The sounds of him lapping up and down at her cunt was obscenely erotic, and she felt herself dripping another gush of blood and arousal into his mouth. He slid his tongue as far as he could inside her slit, attempting to clean her inner walls from the nonstop trickle of blood. She felt his thumb move to her clit to stroke it in slow circles and another whine fell from her mouth.

Why didn’t he just get his fill and leave? What was the point of toying with her? Tav needed Astarion to stop, she thought foggily.

He slurped up as much as he could of her blood, then shifted his attention on her swollen clit. Her legs shook against him, threatening to drop, but he kept her up like she weighed nothing. Tav finally mustered up the courage to look down at Astarion, and he must’ve sensed it, as his blown out eyes met hers. She gasped at the sight, her slickness painting his face so beautifully her cunt practically purred in response.

“Please.”

Her desire and uncertainty tangled in that one word. She wasn’t sure what she was pleading for. For him to go? To continue?

Astarion responded with a muffled, guttural groan. Her heels dug into his shoulder blades, urging him on, while his lips locked around her clit with a hunger that left her gasping. He suckled her so desperately that his teeth brushed against her, causing her legs to unconsciously spread further, surrendering to the feeling. Tav didn’t know how long they stayed like that; with Astarion dragging his tongue through her slick folds, alternating between frenzied licks and focused suctions on her clit. Before she knew it, an intense orgasm washed over her, prompting a bite on her own fingers to stop her from keening. She yelped when she broke skin and her fingers shot to his curls as her sex throbbed. But Astarion didn’t stop – he had gone back to tasting her in lazy, drawn out strokes.

“It’s sinful,” he muttered against her flushed skin. “It's divine.”

Tav pulled at his hair, hoping he would come off from her, hoping he would leave then. “You’ve not had your fill?” she croaked.

“I would lay here drinking from you all night until I fell asleep, if I had my way. ”

She watched him lick the inner corners of her thighs, fangs grazing against her flesh, threatening to bite down. Astarion moved up, trailing kisses under her belly button, then maneuvered her legs around his hips. His hands slid up her sides, scrunching Tav’s top up to show just a hint of her breasts, nipples hardened against the sheer fabric. He pulled away, baring a sharp smile, hair disheveled, teeth smeared with her blood, then pressed his clothed cock against her. “You can stop your little charade now.”

Before Tav could reply, he caught her lips in a deep kiss, rutting against her in his strained pants. The comedown from her orgasm had caught her with dull inhibitions as she couldn’t help but return the kiss, tasting her fluids on her tongue, coppery and vaguely salty. Tav couldn’t say she shared his sentiment regarding her blood, but she didn’t pull away, brain spiked with his tongue in her mouth.

“Let me love you,” Astarion whispered tenderly.

Tav suddenly jolted, breaking out of her spell. She pushed at his chest, her body straightening like a lance. She seethed with frustration. “Get off.”

He stiffened, pulling away to meet her glare. “Did I do something wrong, my sweet?”

“Enough with the fucking pet names,” she practically spat. “You don’t owe me. You don’t have to pretend to want me. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted to help you, so don’t lie to me and recite sonnets and play pretend lover. ”

He peeled himself from her, and for once, Astarion didn't respond with a quip or a sly remark.

“I… see. I didn't mean to upset you.”

Her expression softened, though she couldn't help but feel that if Astarion had wanted to pursue it, he would make a great actor. But Tav didn’t want to put herself through a show, no matter how much she had wanted to watch it.

Tav sighed, her throat feeling parched as she spoke. "It's alright," she murmured, avoiding his gaze while she reached for her pants. “You know, sometimes, people just want to help you. Because they care about you, and they don’t expect anything back.”

“Everybody wants something.” Astarion remarked.

“You’re right,” Tav acknowledged quietly, nestling herself in her bedroll and turning over. “I want to get some sleep. Good night, Astarion.”

Halsin's warning about the Shadow Cursed Lands had been clear: it would be a wasteland where even the animals would be too ghoulish for Astarion to feed on.

So for the rest of their journey towards Gymforge and beyond, Astarion gorged himself on as many creatures as he could. Bats, cave goats, owls, giant lizards – everything was fair game. He even contemplated the bulette at one point, but it smelled awful. He drank from anything and everything that moved, all in an effort to stave off the need to ask Tav for her blood. He didn't want to risk upsetting her again. Astarion was still a wanted man, and as long as she tolerated him, he was safe from Cazador.

Though he was satiated on animal blood, it was like eating plain porridge multiple times a day—nourishment, yes, but completely devoid of pleasure. But that was fine; Astarion didn’t want to grow used to Tav, he was disturbed by the way his body reacted everytime he fed on her.

After the last feeding, he left for his tent with an aching cock. He had tried to will it away, but Astarion had felt too drunk on delirious bloodlust. Back in his bed, he tugged at himself feverishly, in need of the release that was denied to him. Her smell, taste, body – everything, everything about Tav made him throb with desire. It was only logical, a primal urge, nothing more than that. He had, after all, succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh in the past, no matter how unwilling.

He understood all too well that the body could respond even when the mind wasn't fully present.

And yet, Astarion remained restless at night. When they all retired to their beds, his mind inevitably turned to think of her. He couldn’t shake the memory of how she ran hot against his bone cold body, hugging him like a furnace. His longing for her went beyond the hunger for her blood, and that realization left him uneasy, causing him to distance himself even more from her. However, he stole glances at her from time to time. Sometimes it happened when they gathered around the campfire for supper, sharing plans and stories. Astarion was particularly drawn to her smile, so sweet that her eyes wrinkled at the corners. He couldn't ignore the knot that twisted in his stomach when he saw her smile for anyone else.

"What will everyone do when this is all over?" Tav asked on one of the rare evenings when everyone remained awake.

“Whatever Lady Shar calls for me to do,” Shadowheart answered with determination.

Lae’zel scoffed dismissively. “Chk. It’s a waste of time to ponder.”

“Well, I miss my Tara terribly,” Gale confessed sadly. “First thing I do, I would like to see her immediately.”

Karlach leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “Aw man… at least you have someone to return to!”

Wyll flashed a grin at her. "You could always join me, Karlach. We could be the Blades of the Frontiers together, dispensing justice across the land of Faerûn." He dramatically extended his arms to illustrate the vision. Karlach smiled in response. "I'll hold you to that, soldier."

"I'm afraid the grove needs a fresh start without me," Halsin admitted. "I have a feeling I'll be required elsewhere, though I'm not entirely certain where."

Tav flicked her eyes to Astarion and then looked away while she spoke. “I should hope that no matter where we end up, that we all see each other every once in a while.” She rubbed at her arms and then laughed. “Gods, I know I sound so sentimental. But I’ve grown to truly like you crazy fuckers. And it’s going to be really hard to relate to people after this.”

“You can say that again,” Wyll agreed.

Astarion hummed, raising his wine goblet with a flourish. "Don’t fret, my dear friends. I’ll host the most extravagant of parties each season in my grand, opulent palace, and you’ll all be my honored guests. I'll personally hunt you down if you fail to attend or neglect the dress code."

“Hear hear!” Karlach cheered. They clinked their glasses together and Astarion’s breath caught when he saw the corners of Tav’s lips curling up. She was smiling at him. And his cold, dead, unbeating heart felt like it had swelled up so large he thought it might burst out of his chest.

Fuck, Astarion thought.

The Last Light Inn was a welcome respite for their weary bodies. Each of them had their own rooms with real beds, and they had all ran to claim their rooms.

However, as usual, trouble had a knack for finding them. Barely an hour into their stay, they were attacked, though they did manage to defend the inn and its people. Tav sat down hours later on a barstool in the tavern, tossing a coin to a tiefling child who was doubling as the barkeep. The little one handed her a mug, only filled halfway, and she chuckled to herself.

"Guess I won't be drowning my sorrows tonight.”

She took out her journal and went over her notes. There was so much to keep in mind, so much to go over. Tav scribbled away for an hour or two, and as the common area gradually emptied with everyone retiring to their rooms, she remained absorbed in her journal until a familiar voice broke the silence. “You’re up late.” Tav looked up, finding Astarion standing at the edge of the dimly lit hallway. It had been a while since they had been in the same vicinity as each other alone, and she couldn’t help but feel nervous at the sight of him. He made strides to move towards her, stopping only to stoop down and give His Majesty a little scratch behind its ears.

"Says you," she replied. "Though... well, vampires are nocturnal, aren't they?"

"Well actually, I’ve grown to quite enjoy watching the sunrise." Astarion said as he grabbed a cup from behind the counter. “Can’t wait to get out of this wretched place. I’m afraid the real reason I’m still up is a bit more mundane—I'm feeling a bit on edge."

He dipped the mug into a barrel of wine and raised an eyebrow at her disapproving look. "What? Free ale is the least we deserve for saving this sorry little inn from destruction."

Tav couldn't argue with that. She scooted over on her stool to make room for Astarion, and he joined her without a word. Astarion drank and she wrote in her book and they didn’t say anything to each other; it was a comfortable silence, one they both needed. After a while, Tav couldn't stifle a yawn, her eyes bleary from exhaustion.

"If you yawn any more, I'm going to have to toss you into your room," Astarion remarked dryly, his fingers curled around his fourth glass of wine. "You should get some rest."

She looked at him and noticed his cheeks were gaunt. There was no luster to his appearance, and he appeared more tired than she felt on the inside, likely due to a lack of nourishment. Tav had been waiting for him to ask to feed ever since they stepped foot into these cursed lands, but he never sought her out. There were no animals out in these lands, and most of the people they killed were tainted. Unless one of the others felt like offering, he was short on fuel. Astarion was probably starving, and that’s why he was restless.

Maybe she had been too harsh with him. Tav had been the one to offer blood in the first place, and then she had to go and make things awkward with her outburst. A pang of guilt washed over her.

“You too,” Tav replied. “You honestly look a little awful.” He tensed at the comment and she hurried to add: “You’re hungry. When was the last time you ate?”

With a subtle lick of his lips, Astarion brushed off her concern. “I'm perfectly fine. I'll feast on some True Souls once we reach Moonrise, and you'll see, I'll be right as rain.”

"You're obviously not fine, Astarion," Tav insisted. "I'm not a stranger. I know you."

His eyes searched hers like he was looking for something, a certain melancholy to them that she couldn’t parse out. Then the look vanished, replaced by an empty expression.

“I don’t think you do.”

She almost believed a few times he cared for her, in his own way. But it was clear now that her original instinct had been correct: it really had been a game for him, and now Astarion was so bored of her, he’d rather starve. Tav knew that if she were smart, she would feel relieved that he no longer wanted to use her, that he had backed off. But all she felt was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Astarion still grieved for his past life, but any memories of family, lovers, or friends remained lost to him. At times, he preferred it that way. Ignorance, after all, had its virtues. Caring for others meant extending a piece of yourself to them, one you often couldn’t get back, and that was a risk he didn’t want to take. Not when he so desperately needed to care for himself. What was so bad about being selfish, he wondered. Astarion couldn't afford to put himself second, not after everything he had been through.

He had come into this world alone, suffered alone, and he would depart this earthly realm alone.

The second night at the inn, Halsin had gone to find Thaniel, leaving the rest of them to defend his portal while they awaited his return. They hadn't expected the overwhelming forces drawn to destroy it. Wave after wave of undead assailants descended upon them, and they found themselves severely outnumbered.

Tav, determined to protect the portal, was casting a wall of stone when a wraith suddenly teleported and slashed at her, breaking her concentration. Her cry pierced the chaotic battle, and Astarion whipped around at the sound. She crumpled to the ground, clutching her stomach in agony.

"No, no, Tav! Get up, damn you!" Astarion shouted. Without hesitation, he lunged forward with his daggers and tore into the wraith until it dissipated into a shadow of smoke.

"The portal—" Tav choked out, blood spluttering from her throat. He knelt down and pulled her up against him.

“Fuck the portal,” Astarion grit his teeth. “Shadowheart!”

Shadowheart, engrossed in protecting Karlach and Lae'zel from cursed Harpers trying to break through, couldn't hear him. He yelled for Shadowheart again, but her attention remained focused on the women. Tav had made a promise to Halsin to keep the portal open, and the others were determined to honor that promise. Astarion cursed them all.

As he looked down at Tav, he saw her eyes dimming, her hand outstretched towards the portal.

She mouthed, "Halsin."

The druid had come back with the child.

Astarion would’ve turned back time and seen Halsin dead and the Shadow-Cursed lands forever damned if it meant that he would never again have to feel the fear that struck his heart when Tav went slack in his arms.

“She’ll be alright,” Shadowheart assured, the back of her palm against Tav’s forehead, feeling for her temperature. “She just needs some rest.”

Astarion had been pacing at the end of Tav's bed, unable to leave her side since their return to the inn. "How long?”

“Can’t say. Maybe a few hours.” Shadowheart put the rest of her scrolls and potions away into her bag. “She’s tougher than she looks, Astarion. Don’t worry too much.”

“I’m not worried,” Astarion huffed, fixing his face to a smooth nonchalance. “But… I’ll stay here with her. Just in case. You should get to bed. You know, vampire and all, we're creatures of the night and whatnot.”

Shadowheart gave him a knowing look before she left. “Let me know if she still feels poorly.”

Astarion quietly pulled a chair closer to Tav's bedside, taking care not to stir her. As he sat there, he wondered what he would say when she woke up. He hadn't planned beyond his initial rush into her room. Hours passed, marked by the gentle rise and fall of her breathing and he never got up from his seat. The exhaustion of the day slowly overcame him and though he tried to fight it, Astarion drifted off into a trance.

Tav woke up after some time, groggy and disoriented. After she checked her body and found nothing out of place, she blinked a few times, surprised to find Astarion sitting nearby.

“No,” Astarion mumbled, his fingers gripping the armrest of his chair. “No. I'll never come back.”

In his nightmares, Cazador taunted him — to his master, he was akin to a mere child who had simply gotten carried away with the infantile joys of freedom. His relentless pursuit haunted him through the forest, and no matter how far into the void Astarion ran, he could still hear him. Oh, how foolish of him to dream of a life that was his own — he would never escape. No matter how far he fled, Cazador would inevitably find him...

"Please, no, Master —" he cried out.

Tav reached her hand out to gently cover one of his. "Astarion," she said, her voice soft and soothing, despite her sore throat.

His eyes fluttered open, the rims around them inflamed, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Cazador," he sputtered, still caught in the grip of his night terrors.

"You're safe. He's not here," she reassured him, trying to withdraw her hand, but he held it firmly. "You were having a bad dream."

Astarion nodded. “Yes.” His eyes closed as took a deep inhale, calming himself from the remnants of his nightmare. “I didn’t intend to wake you.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I woke up on my own.” Tav replied, her expression equally laced with concern and suspicion. “Um. Is something wrong? What are you doing here?”

Astarion was quick with his answer. He didn’t want to tell her that, no, actually, he had gone sick with worry and had practically barked at everyone to clear the way as he rushed into the inn with her injured body. “Everything is fine. We just wanted to make sure you were alright. Everyone else is asleep right now.”

“I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings,” Tav frowned apologetically. “I didn’t mean to worry you all. But Halsin came back with Thaniel, didn’t he?”

He scowled, recalling how his forehead vein nearly burst when Halsin confirmed that Thaniel was of no use until they located his missing half. "I could've strangled Halsin for taking as long as he did. All for some comatose child."

Her eyes bore into him. “I would’ve gone through the pain a thousand more times to help Halsin cure this land. You can’t blame him for anything.”

Tav was light and goodness and hope and everything Astarion was not and he wanted to throttle her and tell her that this miserable, revolting world didn’t deserve her.

“I can, and I will. But thankfully, you’re okay. No need for anyone’s head to roll.”

“Ugh. You are so dramatic,” she laughed, her hand splaying under him. His finger rubbed a circle on the back of her palm. Then she paused, and they stared at each other, and Astarion almost shrank from the intensity of her gaze. “I appreciate you watching over me. I’m good, really. I can take it from here. You can go now.”

“If that’s what you want,” he replied.

”I…” She hesitated, her eyes shifting slowly between his, searching for something in them. "What do you want?"

Tav had asked Astarion this question once before, and he had delivered his answer, every word rehearsed and refined countless times with various people.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he confessed. His eyebrows furrowed as he pushed himself to continue. "I… want to free myself from my constant thoughts of you.”

An unfamiliar tightness gripped his throat. Astarion had always thought of her softness as a horrible weakness, but now, with Tav before him, he understood that to be soft was a terribly difficult thing to do.

“I want…” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “... to kiss you.”

Tav echoed his previous response.

"Well, if that's what you want."

He was careful, the way he rose to caress her cheek, and agonizingly slow as her lips parted and his cold thumb brushed against them. Astarion closed the gap and pressed a kiss on her, so gentle he thought he only imagined doing it. He tilted her head up, the kiss deepening with a swift graduation of intensity that made Tav cling to him as if he were the only solid thing in her dizzying world.

This was different, Astarion marveled — this felt like undeniable need.

“I can’t summon up any clever words,” Astarion breathed against her lips. “Just that I want you.”

“Then shut up for once and have me.” She twined her arms around his neck and his tongue glided past her lips to taste her, eliciting a sound from her that redirected all the blood in Astarion’s body in a sweet rush. Every movement of her lips sent a jolt through his body, fanning the blaze that was shared back and forth between them.

How maddening was it, that one second Astarion was afraid to falter, and the next she reduced him to desperation.

He devoured her with tongue and teeth, pushing her back into the mattress, only stopping when it felt like they would die from lack of oxygen. Astarion broke away from her embrace, peeled his shirt off and hurled it to the ground, then tugged at her pants; she clumsily arched herself up to help him strip her clothes off. Next was her top, then her underwear; his eyes swept over her, committing every detail and every curve to memory.

“You, my little dove, truly are a vision.”

Tav laughed with embarrassment, but her laughter dissolved into a moan as Astarion's lips met hers. She kissed him like she was untangling him, and he kissed her like he wanted to own her from the inside out. Then she gasped, the sound shooting straight to his cock. “I’ve wanted you. Everytime. But I was scared.”

He groaned and released her from his mouth, then captured her lips in his again. Astarion had never wanted so hopelessly to see someone come undone under him.

“I know darling. I’m always right,” he chuckled against her lips, the arrogance hiding the relief he felt. She tsked at him and his fingers gently wrapped over her throat, as the other hand thumbed at her lips. “I’m jealous of your neck,” he mused. “It gets to hold your lovely head up, when it could be my hands instead.”

It was sickening, Astarion thought, how unbelievably, excruciatingly hard he was, and he had barely even touched her. Tav watched him curiously, her eyes raking over his body with lust. “I want to taste you,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Let me.”

“Not tonight,” he said simply, wanting nothing more than to see her pretty lips wrap around his cock and to see her struggle for air. But he’d be lying if the simple act of denying her didn’t turn him on. Astarion prodded at her lips with his fingers, knocking at her teeth, slipping two into her mouth. “You can work for that.”

She opened her mouth without further complaint. He pressed down on her tongue and she sucked as he slowly twisted his fingers around. Astarion lowered a trail of kisses down her face, peppering her jaw, neck, collarbones, the dip between her breasts. Then, he took his spit slicked fingers out with a plop, saliva trailing out from her lips, before moving down to spread open her wet folds. Tav was dripping with arousal, eyes fluttering in anticipation of pleasure, and Astarion thought he’d like to keep her like this forever. He pinched at her clit then rubbed firm and slow; her hips twitched against him, silently asking for him to go faster, harder, anything, to make her cum.

But Astarion wasn’t going to let her, he had never intended to let her cum – at least not yet, it was too soon, not when he wanted to unravel her more.

“Get on your knees for me, darling.”

Tav had no choice but to roll over and prop herself up on her elbows. She looked back at him, her eyes glassy with frustration. He could barely hold himself together to whisper sweet nothings into her back, something that had been so vile to do before and so easy to do now. Astarion ached to have her: anywhere, in every position, in every possible way, to mark her and make it so that everyone would know that Tav was his to have.

He tried to shake away the obsessive thought but it burned through him so deeply that it nearly pushed Astarion to rage. His kisses dragged lower and lower until his hands squeezed at the undersides of her ass. Astarion spread her thighs apart and opened her up like ripe fruit with his thumbs, watching her drool drip down her folds. He lapped his tongue up from her glistening folds to her rim and Tav’s knees buckled under the sensation.

Astarion wasn’t just eating her out, he was tonguefucking her; he delved deeper, groaning against her as she pushed back into his face and her musk clouded his mind. The taste of her constant, dripping wetness was intoxicating, second only to her life-giving blood. It threatened to drown Astarion, like a violent wave crashing at the shore of his senses.

He snaked in and out of her puckered hole, back to her cunt, everything growing slick and sloppy and sensitive, wet sounds mixing with moans spilling from both of them. The contrast of the cold of his tongue and the hotness of her cunt was exquisite, and he thought Tav deserved the gift of his fingers again. His index and middle fingers slid through to part the lips of her sticky cunt, then disappeared, quickly thrusting in and out of her.

“I need–” She made a strangled sound before she buried her face into her pillow, not wanting to make any more noise should the rooms next door hear. Then, she nearly sobbed at the sudden loss of his lips against her, though his fingers were still deep at her base. He reached forward to tug at her hair abruptly, bringing her head up from the bed.

“You need what?” Astarion feigned ignorance, not slowing down the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of her. Tav reached down with her hand to press against her clit, grinding her palm flat against her pubic bone. She humped against her hand and back into his fingers, again and again until he released her hair and snatched her hand and held it against her back as he buried a third finger into her cunt.

“Fuck, Astarion.”

The way Tav cried out his name made Astarion want to drag this out, to deny her the way she had done to him for so many weeks. Until she was a sobbing, pleading, pathetic mess. He pressed a wet kiss against her cunt and barely held back a wicked smile when she shook as his fingers curled, pulling and pushing in her.

“Sorry pet, I can’t hear you.”

“Fucking...“ Tav grit her teeth, her temper rising when she realized he was playing with her. “All this time you've been accosting me and now you want to tease?"

"Little known fact about me, I'm actually hard of hearing in one ear," he lied, pushing a fourth finger into her squelching cunt. Tav pushed her face into the pillow and groaned in frustration, before picking her head back up, choking out the words.

"Astarion, I need you to fuck me."

“Oh,” he replied, like the answer hadn’t been so obvious. “All you had to do was use your words.”

He withdrew his fingers from her. Tav strained her head to see him tugging his pants down, cock springing out, beautiful and veiny, precum leaking and turned on to the point of agony. Astarion gave himself one firm stroke from root to tip and back. She bumped against him, but he pushed her back down and dragged the tip through her cunt.

“So wet.” He slid the head between her slick folds, rubbing up to her clit, and back down. Again and again, each time dipping closer to where she needed him most in a torturously unhurried pace. “You’re always so wet for me, aren’t you, my sweet?”

She moaned an agreement into the bed and ground herself against him, hard enough that Astarion felt relief all around his painfully erect cock. It was truly difficult to stop himself from fucking her deep into the mattress, but the novelty of how much he enjoyed seeing her squirm under him was too new, too enthralling.

“Looks like you enjoy the pet names after all.”

“Astarion,” Tav cried, rutting desperately on his cock. She looked like she would either break down in tears or hit him. He thought he would enjoy either option.

Astarion flipped her over on her back and summoned the best of his self control to kick off his pants. Then he kissed her deeply and pushed in, slowly, stretching her out; mesmerized by the needy look on her face and the way her lips parted in a gasp. He wanted to savor this, to paint a picture in his mind to look back on in case it never happened again, but it only lasted a few seconds before Tav wrapped her legs around his waist, willing more of him into her.

“Tav,” Astarion stuttered, grabbing hold of her hips roughly. “Cheeky little pup — so desperate.”

He slowly dragged out of her until only the tip of his cock was left, holding her legs apart so he could admire the view of her taking the entirety of his length as he pushed back in leisurely.

“Astarion, fuck me, please, I can’t breathe until you do.”

Would he ever tire of his name being used like a prayer? Astarion growled in response, pulling and burying himself at the hilt of her cunt. Then he fucked her faster - the pace brutal and unrelenting - and her walls clenched so tight around him that it hurt, a smooth and velvety pain along his cock. When Tav’s eyes rolled back he freed a hand to grab her throat, forcing her to look at him.

“I would tear myself open limb from limb if you could only see the mess you’ve made of me,” he panted.

Tav choked around his fingers, unable to reply, eyes wide in disbelief; Astarion released her throat to grip the back of her thighs and pin her knees to her chest with bruising strength. He lost himself, he didn’t stop moving, didn’t let up. Fucking her felt both sacred and like sacrilege, like being eviscerated by divine rapture, like something he simply didn’t deserve. He would have chained himself down at her altar and would've ripped through his own ribcage with his bare hands to offer his lungs as sacrifice if that's what she demanded.

“Yes, it’s so good, Astarion—” Tav babbled incoherently under him, her breasts jiggling with each thrust. “You’re so good. So fucking good.”

Astarion lurched forward with a groan and buried his face into her juncture between her neck and shoulder, inhaling sharply as his nose nudged at her fading wound. It was wholly unnatural to resist biting her, but he did. He wasn’t good, he had probably never been good in any lifetime. But he wanted to be – would try to be – if that’s what she wanted. Astarion fucked her to the ragged rhythm of his name, hard and deep and devastating, hissing everytime her walls flexed and gripped around him.

“Bite me,” Tav begged, her arms sliding around him, one slipping into his hair and the other clawing at the scarred skin of his back. “You don’t have to ask. Never.”

Astarion wavered, but only for a second. His teeth dragged over her skin like the point of a knife and she leaned into it, the pounding of her heart echoing in Astarion’s ears. Tav let out a needy pant of encouragement when he sank in, nothing careful or gentle about his bite. Hot pulsing blood rushed into his mouth; it poured into every vein in his body, exploding everywhere at once.

Tav thrashed under him, threading her fingers through his curls and holding him in place. He drank and sucked until the skin underneath him spurted so much blood that it spilled out past the corners of his mouth, drenching their chests as they rocked against each other. He dragged a finger through the rain of blood and when it was coated he smeared it on her swollen clit, working frenzied, clumsy circles on it. His arm grew tense with the speed and intensity of it but he didn’t stop. Tav’s sopping wet cunt sucked him in messily in the silence and a dark satisfaction curled through Astarion’s gut, knowing that it was impossible to not hear them throughout the inn.

“You’ll be my undoing,” he told her, less of a statement and more of a promise. Astarion kissed her through the film of blood that coated the inside of his mouth, wet and metallic and sweet. He groaned when she licked the taste of her off his lips and he fucked into her like an animal, spurred on by the cries she tried and failed to stifle. When Tav came, she clamped down so blindingly tight on Astarion’s cock that an orgasm ripped from his body forcefully, shooting through him and spilling into her as deeply as her cunt would allow.

"You'll stay here?" Tav's words were a barely audible request, masked as a question. The persistent voice that had carved out an unwelcome home in his brain urged him to get up and leave. But Tav curled around him like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he couldn’t find the strength to listen.

Maybe she would ruin him. Maybe they’d consume each other. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and pretend tonight never happened. Or maybe some things just burned brighter in the wake of destruction. Astarion was drawn to the fire now, even if it meant risking his wings.

Astarion pressed a gentle kiss to her damp forehead and drew her closer to his chest. Tav hummed a satisfied sigh, the heat from her body radiating and wrapping him like the thickest blanket in the dead of winter. In that fleeting moment, he wondered if there was a way to bottle her warmth and tuck it away for his loneliest hours.

He chose to settle for a simple truth.

“Yes.”

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chvnnie · 6 months

Note

Can you please write about dilf seungmin? I just can’t sleep without it.

it’s been a while since i posted — so why not start with my literally brand?

…I also made it spicy. Oops.

Seungmin looks good in a suit.

This isn’t like, brand new information. Simply a statement; he looks good in a suit.

Your husband looks good in a suit.

SMUT — MINORS DNI

What makes him look even better, in your opinion, is the way he puts the baby carrier on. Fingers flexing, veins popping in his hands as he adjusts the straps. Fixes the buckles. Make sure everything is secure before he puts your son in there. There’s just something about the way his fingers glide down the strap, pulling it tightly—

“You’re staring.” He interrupts your thoughts, not even looking up from what he’s doing. It slipped your mind that he’s standing in front of the mirror, and you’re right in his line of sight.

You clear your throat, distracting yourself with the sleeve on your dress. “Sorry.” You mumble.

“Hm.” Checking that everything is on him correctly, Seungmin turns around. “Are you?”

Why is he talking to you like this? Why is his voice so low? Was it a good idea to wear a long sleeved dress? Okay, it’s snowing outside, but the way your husband’s words are affecting make you feel like you’re on fire.

Red and pink-ish flames dance across your body, swirling like a tornado of fire. Engulfing you and forcing you to given into the sensation.

“Maybe.” The strand you were toying with becomes irrelevant, head tilting up to meet your husband’s gaze. He’s taken a few steps closer to you, eyes dark and turned downward. Another match strikes. “Would it be so wrong if I was?”

Tongue in cheek, he huffs a small laugh. Faster than lightening, a hand grips your chin. Tilting it up. Forcing your gaze to stay in place. “When you look at me like that,” his thumb slides up, finding the center of your bottom lip. Slowly, he begins to stroke it, smearing the red lipstick you just applied, “you know I can’t help myself.”

The birthday dinner is in less than an hour. If you don’t leave now, you run the risk of being late — but the baby is still asleep, snoring over the monitor in the next room over.

Sounds like a perfect excuse.

Your mouth forms around the digit, eyes locked with his as you slowly brush your thumbs across it. Not stopping until the mouth meets the knuckle, only to pull out just as slow.

“Don’t, then.”

Playing with fire is never wise. But sometimes, the burn is too delightful.

Seungmin’s other hand grips the nape of your neck, forcing you from your seat on the bed to your knees. They brush against his loafers, the only thing stopping your skin from bruising.

The thumb that was in your mouth moves across your cheek, painting your skin with the lipstick you so carefully applied. “All I’ve wanted was to make a mess of you tonight.” He says in a low whisper, slapping your cheek softly. Enough to make the blaze burn brighter. “You make losing myself too easy.”

His belt buckle jingles, blending with your gentle laugh as you smile up at him. Though he acts like he’s playing with you, in reality he’s given you exactly what you wanted. Feeding into your will without really even knowing.

Who knew all it took was a stare?

Seungmin pushed his pants down just enough to free his cock. It bounces out, hard and heavy like it was seconds from tearing a hole in his slacks. He grasps the base of it, slowly working his hand up and down. The thumb that is lipstick stained brushes over the tip. Making a mess of himself.

Your tongue rolls out, waiting for patiently for your husband to finish teasing you. To give you both what you know you can’t go another second without.

His smile is breathtaking. “Good girl.” He coos, finally sliding his cock in your mouth. The deeper it goes, the louder he groans. The fire moving to his body, and he’s in no rush to put it out.

Savoring the feeling of your throat, Seungmin is slow to pull out. Not wanting to even thrust — just to sit there, let his cock hit the back of your throat and listen to you choke on it. Everything about it is perfect. The warmth, the closeness.

You. Your watery, wide eyes. Face stained with lipstick, mascara close to follow.

“I love you.” He mumbles softly, the thrust starting slow and deep. He doesn’t go far before he diving back in, craving more and more. “I fucking love you.”

Bodies aflame, molding into one. There’s a tenderness that only Seungmin possesses, an ability to make even moments like this feel like heaven.

Your tongue swirls around the base of his cock. It twitches in your mouth, the feeling making his knees buckle. Fuck, everything about this is perfect. His fingers thread in your hair, holding your head still as he rocks his hips a lip faster. Rougher.

Spit starts to leak from your mouth. Down it rolls, clinging briefly to your chin before it drops onto the ground. His shoes. Your lap. Sloppy, messy.

Perfect.

“You take my cock so good.” He groans, head rolling back as he picks up the speed. Not one usually for words in the moment, you soak up the compliment. Bouncing a bit on your knees as you tighten your throat until he’s moaning your name. Spilling from his mouth like a prayer. “Fuck, that’s it. Fuck—“

He cums hard and fast. There isn’t even a second to warn you before it’s spilling in your mouth. Seungmin stares at you as he empties out, watching you swallow around his cock. You look so beautiful when you’re such a mess for him.

Carefully, he pulls himself out, stuffing the still hard member in his boxers. He falls to his knees in front of you, not even bothering to buckle his pants before he cups your face. Peppering it with kisses, whispering praise and thanks. Apologies for ruining your makeup—

Your hands wrap around his wrists, holding him close as you smile at him. “I love you, too.” You say softly, pressing your lips against his. “I—“

The monitor on the bedside table lights up, the sound of cries filling the room. You both huff a laugh, lost in each other’s gaze for just one more second. Just a little bit longer of just the two of you.

“I’ve got him.” You say, only to be held still by your husband.

“No, I’ll get him.” He brushes his lips against your cheeks once before he stands. “Go fix your makeup, unless you want to go to dinner like that.”

“I think it’s a look, no?” You tease, pulling yourself onto your feet.

“God, don’t start unless you want to be tied to the bed for the rest of the night.”

It’s not an empty threat. You desperately want to see it through. Smiling, you send him away, going into the en-suite to reapply to your lipstick. Clean the mess that Seungmin made.

Your husband looks good in a suit. It’s a fact. But when you walk out into the living room, getting the perfect view of him bouncing the baby against his chest. Singing and tickling the little boy’s feet until he’s a fit of giggles, you realize that as good as he looks in a suit — he looks better as a dad.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids hard thoughts #chvnnie dad!skz #dad!skz #dad!seungmin

734 notes · View notes

kookslastbutton · 8 months

Text

Reflections ༓ kth (m) | "Stay with me until the end of the day"

✑ Summary: As a new hire at one of the most prestigious jewelry brands in the world; Adrien & Rosamel in Paris, you've been trying to build your professional portfolio for months. So when global brand ambassador Kim Taehyung comes in for a photoshoot but his personal photographer is unavailable, the company offers the gig to you. Oh of course you take it in a heartbeat—it's a given.

pairing: brand ambassador!Taehyung x new photographer!reader

genre/AU: fluff, angst, smut, photography au, modeling au, s2l, two part series (duology?)

word count: 11.3k

warnings: exposes "dark side" of fashion world, oc gets insulted by fashion assistants (b-word dropped once but our oc bites back), flirty yet annoying videographer!kook, angry!seokjin, sunshine!stylist!hobi, charming!makeup artist!jimin, cool manager!joonie, Taehyung is an elegant flirt and not like the others, jazz bar date🥺, Taehyung calls her darling a lot, tehyung gets jealous, talk about long distance relationship, sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!Taehyung, sub!reader, explicit sex (use of condom), big dick!tae (it takes a bit to get it all the way in 😬), praise kink, lingerie, small jewelry kink? (He f's oc with their ruby necklace on), doggy, size kink, multiple org*sms, squ*rting, oral (f. Receiving), half a hand*b, f*ngering, overstimulation, little bit of breastplay, cussing, d*rtytalk, foreplay, a little expressiveness, mention of aftercare, Taehyung just adores hers, hot car make out, mention of morning s*x

now playing: Slow Dancing by thv

a/n: first omg i never reached 11k in my life. Secondly, shoutout to anyone who has seen Devil Wears Prada...a personal favorite of mine. Also Layover is omg the best thing ever! So i decided to focus on slow dancing for this fic. Pls enjoy ❤

part one | part two

How many twenty-something-year-olds can say they work at one of the biggest, most luxurious jewelry & fragrance brands in the world? And on top of that, are located in the fashion capital; Paris, France? A rare handful, and it's because of those reasons that they're given the lowest positions possible; you being one of them.

Sure, climbing the corporate ladder is possible with years of relentless dedication, raw talent, and of course, let's not forget connections with the higher-ups. But competition grows fiercer with each passing year as more eager young people gun for advancements in hopes of survival.

After all, who can afford to be stuck on the bottom rung forever?

You didn't want to believe the undertone theme in the critically acclaimed movie The Devil Wears Prada was true, that underneath the glitz and glam of haute couture are ruthless, cutthroat fashion moguls. But from the moment you stepped through the doors of Adrien & Rosamel in your coffee brown slacks and beige button down shirt, it couldn't be refuted–

No one was your friend and no one wanted to be.

Newbies must establish their professional value to the brand as early as possible to prevent being cut at any given moment. On the other hand, experienced professionals who have already earned their merit through decades of labor refuse to give up the stake to their claim and must be careful not to have the carpet swept from under their feet to a junior half their age.

It's a vicious race and despite its bitter nature, you're at the very heart of it.

As a fashion photographer, your ultimate goal is to have weeks' worth of sessions with models from all over the world; all adorned with timeless pieces from genuine gold watches to the richest of gemstones.

These are the types of photographers who are the best and brightest in the industry. They have at least ten years of experience and are booked until the very last second with modeling photoshoots.

The odd prodigy exist too; individuals who are born with an insane wealth of insight and skill which allow them to move up in rank faster.

You wish you were good enough to be considered a prodigy but no such luck. Adrien & Rosamel have insanely high standards on who is allowed to handle the jewelry, let alone be around the models who are so-called showcasing them.

So here you are day what—241? And still stuck taking photos of the same jewelry pieces day in and day out. Sure the theme of the photos gets changed slightly but it's been eight months of this generic work and truth be told, you're getting sick of it.

"__!" Seokjin, your coworker and one of A&R's jewelry polishers calls your name anxiously. He rushes to your side where you're taking close-up photos of a limited-edition steel watch. "Be gentle with this, will you? This is selling for 7,000 euros which means $8,000, 10 million south korean won, and 6,000 pounds. I also just finished polishing it so don't be getting your grubby fingerprints all over it!"

You roll your eyes and continue to move the watch around on the display table until you get a perfect angle. "Relax princess, I'm barely touching it and I have gloves on."

Seokjin's fluffy eyebrows furrow together, face scrunching at the nickname you chose for him. "That's—that's completely uncalled for! Do you know how long I spent buffering the face of the watch alone?! One hour __!"

You hate yourself from bursting out in laughter but this isn't the first time you've gotten lectured by Seokjin. Its like the tiniest detail would set him off. Seokjin's been with the brand a little longer than you; a year now, but he still has that constant need to micromanage everyone he can.

"Look," he continues his scold. "If anything happens to these priceless watches it's my head on the chopping block. I can't afford to lose my job __!"

"Yes, I understand Seokjin. Nothing will happen to these alright?" You move around the man to get more pictures of the watch lying elegantly on its side. "Don't you have about fifty other watches to shine or do you like nitpicking my every movement instead?"

Seokjin scoffs at you, sticks his hands on his hip and walks away with a disapproving shake of his head. "I have my eye on you junior," he warns.

You ignore his subtle jab and continue taking photos. "Creep," you mutter under your breath.

Ten minutes pass and you're about ready to move on to the editing process for your photos. You take a quick peek at them through your camera, clicking through the gallery with the right arrow button.

"Not bad newbie," you hear a voice come from over your shoulder that causes you to jump in surprise.

"What the fuck Jeon," you throw your best side-eye at the young man who happens to be your only acquaintance in the whole company. His role was similar to yours, but instead of photographing jewelry he films them; he's a videographer. "I'm beginning to think you like sneaking up on me on purpose."

The young man laughs with a child-like energy. "What can I say? Seeing you flustered does something to me. But actually, I was just passing by. Haven't talked to you in a while."

Come to think of it he has a point. You haven't seen Jeon Jungkook in about two weeks straight. The two of you aren't friends so you don't check up on each other constantly but you'd like to think you have good rapport.

"What have you been up to anyway? I've seen you rushing around the place like you have millions of appointments to make," you ask.

"I've become a busy man babe," he replies with a cheeky grin. "The higher-ups have noticed my talent and I'm playing with the big boys now."

"You talk about the higher-ups like they're Big Brother or something. Come on, tell me again but in laymen terms."

He sighs at the need to repeat himself. "Okay, listen. I'm working with the models now and more specifically I have a 2 o'clock gig with Kim Taehyung tomorrow. You know, our global ambassador? I'm shooting the film portion of the campaign we're running for him. Isn't that insane?!" His eyes glow up at the mere mention of Kim Taehyung who you are well aware of.

Everything about your famed global ambassador is a fashion photographer's dream; tall, lean, and tantalizingly handsome.

"Of course, I know who Kim Taehyung is. His face is plastered all over the walls of Adrien & Rosamel. Even saw his face on one of our company mugs. Anyone who's anyone will sell their left kidney to breathe in the same room with him but how the heck did you land a shoot with him this early? You've been here for less time than me!"

You're not shouting, you promise. Just extremely envious at the continuous luck Jungkook is having.

"Well," he starts drawling his words. "I might have gotten close with Park Ji-hun over the last month or so. His daughter in particular." You raise your eyebrows in awe.

Park Ji-hun has been Kim Taehyung's personal photographer for nearly ten years. And next to the model himself, he's another highly talked about individual at Adrien & Rosamel.

"Please tell me you didn't use his daughter for your own professional gain," you interject. Jungkook waves his hands around disapprovingly at your suspicion.

"I didn't, we went out on a blind date. I didn't know who her father was until half-way through the date."

"Mhm, something tells me that that's not completely true."

"Okay, so maybe her name sounded a little familiar but I swear, I didn't know they were the same person. But long story short, we started going out and I managed to win her father's approval. And now he's letting me shoot with him!" Jungkook's enthusiasm dies when he sees you doing your best to give a tight-lipped smile. "Babe, listen. I know you and I had a thing a few months back but....you're not still pining over me are you?"

You shove him in the shoulder at the ridiculous question. "We never had a thing. Stop it. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around your recent success."

Jungkook shrugs. "I guess its fate. And we definitely had a thing," he gives a wink. "Well anyway, I need to get to another appointment in ten. Jimin's gonna completely flip if I'm late."

Your mouth gapes open. "You're working with Park Jimin too? He's one of our best makeup artists, what the hell?"

"There are many colors that suit you __. Green's not one of them." Jungkook spins himself around and walks away from you. "Catch you later!"

"Goddamnit," you curse to yourself. "Is he Mr. Perfect or something?"

"__, we're gonna need the space in about five minutes." Another photographer calls from behind you, reminding you that you need to make yourself scarce.

The next morning is absolute madness with the news of Kim Taehyung's arrival in Paris.

As one of the most iconic brand ambassadors and haute couture models, he has quite an impressive fan following from countries all over the world including France. From the moment he steps out of his plane until the minute he enters Adrien & Rosamel, the man is constantly surrounded by masses of people all standing around with their phone cameras.

The company doesn't exactly give him a break from the high intensity of the crowd either. All the assistants working today are tasked with both meeting his requests and socializing with him while the rest of the team hauls around studio equipment for his photoshoot.

"Did you see the way he looked at me Ha-rin?" You overhear one of the assistants boast to the other while passing in the hallway. "I've had such a crush on him for years and I finally have the chance to meet him. I swear, I'll do anything he asks me to do."

"Oh my god, how dense can you be? Sure he smiled at you but let's not forget who it was he asked to get water from," the second woman spats back, raising the unopened bottle of water in her left hand. "It was me. I'm the one he wanted."

You snort at how snarky the two of them are to each other. As if Kim Taehyung would give so much of a blink their way let alone "want" either of them. You've never met the man but you've seen his face enough to know he could have anyone he desired. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be anyone from the company.

"Excuse me," Ha-rin stops in her tracks and speaks in your direction. "Is there something you find funny?"

"I'm sorry?" You freeze in place, unsure of what the woman's referring to.

"Don't play coy junior. You snorted at us, kinda nosy to be listening in on a private conversation."

Fuck sake, you are getting so tried of everyone calling you junior. You weren't given the name __ for it to be ignored at will.

"My apologies if it seemed that way. I assure you I was thinking of other matters." Your Majesty, you wanted to add but didn't.

Ha-rin body scans you as you speak and it immediately makes you feel self-conscious. The way she purses her lips can't be anything but venom that's about to spit out at you. "It better be that way. And by the way, those pants don't do anything for you. Maybe wear a dress next time," she slithers.

"Oh you mean like the dress you're wearing?" you reply. "No thanks. I'm not looking to impress anyone here. I have to get back to work now so you'll both excuse me," you bid them adieu and continue walking down to your office.

"What a bitch," you overhear one of them say and you clench your fists with tears brimming underneath your eyes.

Don't you dare cry __. Not here.

So some of your eye makeup got smudged from your incident with thing 1 and thing 2. You hate how much such a shallow jab got to you but, you're only human.

Coming into such a luxe company you expected this type of behavior. Yet your dreams are so much bigger than them. You'll push through like always.

"Hey," a knock pounds on your door. "Need to talk to you. Busy?" Its you manager Namjoon.

"No." You give him your full attention. "What's going on?"

Namjoon closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. "We have a situation," he starts.

"Okay...what happened Joon?"

"Our shoot with Kim Taehyung is in less than an hour and Park Ji-hun is nowhere to be found in the building. We called him up and looks like he had another shoot scheduled during the same slot. Must have been an overlook on our part, his part, I don't care whose fault it is. But we need someone to fill in right now or we're not going to have any material for our campaign." It comes out all at once and the feeling of whiplash washes over you.

"On top of that," he continues, "I don't want to waste monsieur's time. He just flew 14 hours from Seoul. So, can you do it or no?"

Oh my god...you repeat at least twice in your head before forming a response.

"I'd be very grateful for this opportunity but shouldn't this go to the next best photographer available? I only shoot jewelry on its own. I've never done—"

"You are our next best option __. All our photographers are booked with other models for the next three months. You've been here long enough to know how packed schedules get. Please, I've seen your work. It's good. And if you want an in for your career, I'd grab your camera and meet Kim in the studio in two minutes."

"Well I—"

"Yes or no __? Because I can always give the opportunity to another jewelry photographer. I'd rather not because they're techniques not as good as yours but I'll do it if I have to."

Your mind scrambles for a concise answer. You've been working towards something like this for months, doing your best to perfect your craft in hopes the higher-ups might recognize you as they did Jungkook. Yet until now it's been null; no one has made you such an important offer.

"I'll grab my equipment and meet you all in the studio," you decide. Your manager nods in approval and moves to exit your office.

"That's what I was hoping to hear. You'll be working closely with Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok. I'm sure you're familiar with them, no?"

"Yes sir," you reply. "Quite familiar."

"Jung Hoseok," the man with likely the brightest and most genuine smile you've ever seen shakes your hand. "I'm Kim Taehyung's stylist for this shoot. We're going for laid-back, yet elegant and refined for the studio shoot. Tomorrow we'll go with a completely free theme when we shoot at the beach. I have some specific fashion pieces picked out that I think he'll make pop for this campaign."

"That sounds great Hoseok. I wasn't aware we were going to a location tomorrow though." You don't mean to sound naive but you really were just thrown into this only minutes ago.

He lets go of your hand after the quick shake. "Yes, we have a two-day shoot planned. I know this is all news to you as of five minutes ago. And I'll do my best to help I'm any way I can. Park Ji-hun believes that the jewelry pieces and cologne picked out for Taehyung will be best suited in two places. One, in the studio to highlight the jewelry and two, at the beach to create an atmosphere for the cologne."

"Makes sense, thank you for filling me in."

"Like I said, I'm going to do as much as I can to help. Jimin get over here and introduce yourself to __." He calls to the pink hair boy who's busy sorting through his makeup palettes.

"Park Jimin," he walks over to you and also shakes your hand. "Makeup artist. Jungkook's told me about you."

"Oh god," you slip out and everyone chuckles. "Do I need to go hide somewhere now?" Who knows what Jungkook's said about you. Looks like he really is trying to get cozy with as many people as he can here.

"No no," Jimin waves of your slight embarrassment. "He just said you're an acquaintance that's all." You want to believe him but the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth has you second-guessing.

It's not like Jungkook has a lot of beef with you or "secrets" to spill. He just had a big mouth, flirted with everyone in sight his first three months at the company and you happened to be his first target.

But no biggie. He's dating Park Ji-hun's daughter now, right?

"Love," it's Jimin's voice again. "Don't take this as any offense but I think you need a touch-up. Half your makeup's wiped from your face. Let me fix it for you okay?"

Well if you weren't embarrassed before you are now. Jimin's a professional make-up artist, surely his eyes are fine-tuned to the human face and pick up on make-up inconsistencies.

"Sure," you give in. "That'd be great."

Jimin walks over to his pile of make-up supplies and grabs a classic black eyeliner. "Close your lids," he tells you softly. He gently draws a wing over the lid that needs the most help and then, reaches for an eyeshadow that matches the other eye. "Okay, almost there. Just a few more brushes of this and you'll be good to go."

Though your eyes are closed you can easily distinguish the sound of a third voice.

"So you said yes huh?" Jungkook nears you and Jimin with a cheesy grin. "Now who's moving up in the world?"

"This is our first time working together Jeon," you reply. "Let's keep things professional shall we?"

"Oh please, you should be thanking me instead of giving me pointers on how our professional relationship should be." Jungkook snaps back and you stiffen at his words.

"Thank you? For what?"

"Namjoon didn't mention who exactly dropped your name as a potential candidate to clear up this little mess of ours? When Ji-hun told us he accidentally double-booked I immediately suggested you. I'm hurt you didn't know." He puts his hands over his heart as if pretending to be in pain.

"Wow, well you're right. I suppose I owe you my thanks." And here you thought people only looked out for themselves. Still, it's not like you and Jungkook are gunning for the same position. Him helping you doesn't exactly put him at a disadvantage.

You do feel more pressured to do well for this shoot though. Not only is it your first model shoot, and with all people, it happens to be with Kim Taehyung but it'll backfire on Jungkook if the photos you capture turn up bad. You don't want to imagine what that'll do to both of your professional credibility.

"Alright you're good as new love," Jimin pipes up. You open your eyes and mouth a thank you but you find the words turn into gibberish as the man of the hour finally rounds the corner of the studio.

"Monsieur," Hoseok is the first to greet Kim Taehyung as he enters the space. "Good to see you again."

"How are you Hobi?" Such an endearing nickname comes from a deep, honey voice. It charms your ears. Kim Taehyung stands straight with one hand in the pocket of his loose black slacks while the other rests near the edge of his matching black blazer. It's oversized with a basic, yet clean white t-shirt. Elegant yet, relaxed.

"Doing well, thank you. But I'm afraid you'll need to change out of these clothes soon. We have a perfect ensemble picked out that'll combine well with your style and the pieces you'll be showing off." Hoseok guides him towards the dressing rooms but as he does, your eyes catch Taehyung's.

"Monsieur," Jimin and Jungkook rush to his side at once when they see him looking over. "This is __." They gesture at you with a hand. "She'll be filling in for Park Ji-hun during the entirety of the shoot."

Taehyung's chocolate eyes study your features, your posture, and most of all your lack of movement as he waits for you to say something.

You bow realizing all you've been doing is staring at his flawless face. You've seen him on social media, posters, promo banners, everything, and anything but seeing him in person is not at all the same. "Monsieur," you greet. "It's a pleasure to meet you and to be working with you for the next two days. As the others have said, my name is __."

The man takes long, purposeful strides toward you. "I promise, the pleasure is all mine," he says with a hand moving to shake yours. His long, beautiful fingers wrap around your hand and pull you into a firm grip. "Thank you for stepping in for Ji-hun. And from now on, there's no need to be formal. You can call me Taehyung."

He then flashes you a smile that makes you begin to understand why the two assistants from earlier were so adamant on getting his attention; he's breathtakingly gorgeous. You feel yourself on the brink of a cold sweat at any moment.

"I insist everyone call me by my first name," he says. "I'm an easy man."

"But Mons–" you start but he quirks a brow at you in expectation to fulfill his request. "I understand."

"Do you model as well?" Taehyung asks casually after retracting his hand. "Sorry, I can't help but notice that you have a lovely bone structure. I like to paint in my spare time and sometimes I enjoy having live models as a reference."

The question takes you by surprise. Not many people bother to compliment your physical features expect maybe a few of your closest friends. "I don't model. I prefer being the one behind the creation, like how I'll be behind the camera with you."

He chuckles at your reply. "If you ever change your mind, I'd be happy to paint a portrait of you."

"Well thank you. I'm afraid I don't do nudes though." You really ought to shut your mouth sometimes. Of course, artists don't solely paint nude portraits. What are you saying?

The man in front of you ponders your choice of words for a few seconds too long then leans in towards your ear. Not so far that it's invasive but enough that you're the only one able to hear. "Again, if you ever change your mind....I'd be honored to paint you."

"Monsieur this is not appropriate to be saying."

"I'm not the one saying inappropriate things. I merely said I wanted to paint you as any artist would. You're the one that mentioned getting undressed."

Taehyung straightens himself back up and turns his whole body around. "Hobi," he shifts his attention to his stylist. "Show me what I need to wear today."

You're left standing with a baffled facial expression.

Kim Taehyung is the most elegant flirt and tease you've ever met.

After fifteen minutes Taehyung comes back to the studio in a shaggy grey button-down cardigan and plaid grey slacks. A gold chain necklace with a panther and tassle-like pendant hangs around his neck and on his left hand is a matching gold watch with a gold ring resting on his pointer finger.

They're all part of A&R's newest Panther collection and look nothing short of magnificent on him.

"We'll start with a few standing shots focusing on the ring and necklace separately," you say.

Taehyung nods in understanding and walks over to the studio setup that has a grey-ish purple green screen. Large studio lights hover on either side of the set to which Taehyung poses himself between.

He stands straight forward, eyes directly in line with the camera lens and jaw relaxed into a natural facial expression. It's a simple first pose to start off with but for a reason unexplainable Taehyung gives it new meaning.

It's takes you aback when you look at him through the lens of your camera. The closer you moves towards him to capture a clear shot, the more you're spooked by his intense eyes.

What makes it worse is when he decides to bring his pointer finger, the one with the ring, up to his mouth. His teeth latch gently around the gold band as it settles between his lips. You take several shots, adjusting the exposure on your camera as needed.

"Stunning," you hum in approval. Taehyung then slips the ring off his finger and again places it between his teeth. He tilts his head to the side to add to the flirtatious undertone of the pose.

"How was that?" He asks you after a few rapid flashes of the camera. "Thought I'd try something a little different this time."

"Came out perfect," you answer. "Flirty yet classically romantic. It molds well with our Panther campaign and brand. Suits you well too."

Taehyung's pleased by your words. "I'm glad you see it that way. I've always had a love for timeless themes. It's one of the reasons why I became an ambassador for Adrien & Rosamel. No other brand brings back the romantic past better."

"I agree with you completely. I fell in love with Adrien & Rosamel at a young age, around 13 I'd say. I always imagined myself to be largely integrated with the brand when I became an adult. Photography happened to help me get my foot in the door."

"Don't forget about me __," Jungkook interrupts from a couple feet away. "I got you this gig didn't I?"

Taehyung frowns at Jungkook's comment. "What does he mean?" He asks you. "Ji-hun specifically chose you to fill in for him didn't he?"

"Not exactly," you says with a flushed face. "Jungkook works closely with him and he was the one who recommended me to step in today. So I do owe him my life I suppose."

"You don't at all," Taehyung replied in a firmer tone than before. "He may have done you a favor but it's your talent that got you here. If your work wasn't good, do you think he'd take the risk of suggesting you?"

You stay silent as he continues.

"I've been in the industry for ten years, and no one lays their head on the line for you unless it benefits them in some way. Don't let him rob you of your achievements. And between you and me, I think he has an odd fixation on you." Taehyung lowers his voice. "Forgive me for being forward but he's not a jealous ex is he?"

You want to chuckle at the notion. "He's not, not at all." Taehyung laughs with you.

"So he's just a pain in the ass then," he says and you snort. "Had my share of them but not to worry. The best thing to do is to shake it off and in time, he'll realize everything you've gotten is by your own efforts and that you don't need his so called favors."

"Thank you Taehyung," you say, still a bit uneven as calling models like Taehyung was not what you were trained to do at Adrien & Rosamel. "We should probably move on with the shoot now."

"Sure, there's another pose I have in mind that I think will make the necklace stand out."

Taehyung steps away from you and turns around so his face is in front of the green screen. The cardigan he's wearing is cut to expose a large section of his back which allows pieces of the necklace to dangle against his smooth, bronze skin.

"What do you think? Does this fit the theme or does it look weird?" He rests one hand behind his head while the other raises above his head.

"Very artistic, hold the pose for me. Also, it's highly unlikely that you could ever look weird Taehyung." You focus the camera on the gold pendant. "You're a living and breathing aesthetic on your own."

"You know those are the same exact words I thought of when I mentioned wanting to paint you earlier. Seems like we see similarly don't we?"

"I guess we do, wow I never thought of myself as capable of having my own aesthetic. I feel like a carbon copy of everyone else some days." Once again you're stunned by his forwardness but you take it at face value. Perhaps he's naturally flirtatious even if he isn't meaning to be.

Taehyung looks over his shoulder at you and shakes his head in protest. "There's only one you __. You're not a carbon copy, so believe me when I say you're an aesthetic of your own as well. Which I would still like to get on canvas by the way."

"You're relentless about turning me into some kind of muse. I'm afraid I don't think I have the time, and neither do you now that I think of it. You fly back to Seoul after our shoot is over don't you?"

"I'm here for a couple of months actually," he surprises you with his reply. "Thought if I'm in Paris I might as well take some time to enjoy myself."

"That's fair. Now turn around again, I need to get a few more shots of the necklace."

"Your wish is my command." Taehyung faces away from you with a smile. He's decided he likes you. Maybe its a gift that Park Ji-hun couldn't do his photo session today.

"Do you want to know my favorite position?" Taehyung lays on his side with one hand supporting his head while the other clutches his elbow. The angle let's light from the softbox hit the gold watch perfectly, allowing it to be the star of the show; which is no easy task to achieve when it's Kim Taehyung who's modeling.

"No talking please," you respond, bending down on a knee in front for him. Your eye peeks through the camera lens to capture a good shot.

At your request, Taehyung does his best to remain silent but he can't help but notice your grip on the camera has gotten shakier. "Are you alright?" he asks with the tiniest smirk on his face. "Do you need a break? We've been going nonstop for nearly two hours now."

"Everything's fine Mon—"

"Taehyung," he interjects softly and slowly sits up from his position on the chaise lounge. "And here I thought we were starting to become comfortable with each other. Yet watching you struggle to hold that camera in place makes me feel bad. Let's pause for a few okay?"

You flush as he nears you, a tad embarrassed at the situation. You're a professional photographer which means you should be fully capable of moving forward with today's session without any breaks.

But you're palms are sweaty and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight from taking hours of close-up shots of the most handsome man on earth.

What's more, is that he keeps tossing out more flirty one-liners and finding ways to compliment you. And let's not forget your earlier exchange about the whole painting ordeal–wanting to put you on canvas and all.

No one warned you Kim Taehyung was going to be like this.

"What can I do to make you comfortable again, __?" He crouches directly in front of you with wisps of his honeyed locks dangling over his eyes. As he waits for your answer, the camera shutter clicks, getting a not-so-elegant close-up of his crotch.

Fuck. You didn't mean to take that.

"Too bad Hobi didn't give me a designer belt to wear. That would have made a great photo," Taehyung teases as he watches your fingers scrabble to delete the photo from your camera roll. "Imagine the kind of awards you'd win."

Oh god. You want to slap yourself awake now.

"Sorry," you rush to say anything at this point. "I think a break might be good after all."

"How about some fresh air? Last I knew it's a beautiful day out." Taehyung stands up and offers you a hand.

"You're offering to go out together?" You hesitate to put your hand in his at first but ultimately give in.

"Why not? It's up to you but I'd like to get some air in my lungs. Gets a little stuffy in here doesn't it?" Once he pulls you up he pulls his hand back. "Let's take a fifteen-minute break everyone," he calls to the rest of the team who nod and scatter in opposite directions.

"Fantastic." You hear Jimin talk to himself. "I've been needing to go to the bathroom for an hour already!" He scurries out of the studio as quick as his legs will carry him.

You and Taehyung find a quiet spot on the terrace above the company's enclosed garden. It's a recent edition the executives thought might give employees a small escape from the chaos of the day. And so far, it's been much appreciated. Being an unconventional hour to take a break, you're the only ones currently using the space.

"Can I ask you a question?" You cross your arms on the metal railing of the terrace and look at Taehyung beside you. He's standing calmly by the railing too with his hands in his pocket.

"Ask me anything," he replies.

"I haven't been in the fashion world nearly as long as you have but I know enough that people aren't as open as you are. You're much friendlier than most and I was wondering if you've always been that way. Even with Hoseok you call him Hobi, an endearing name."

He looks out into the distance at the perfectly trimmed bushes and trees, all square-shaped. "I became a model when I was 17. I hadn't even graduated high school yet when an agency recruited me. I thought it was a great opportunity until I saw the hunger for fame in my peer's eyes. Due to my appearance, I was given more chances to be on the cover of serious magazines like Vogue and Louis Vuitton but models who were there longer than me didn't. They were given shoots too but they were on a lower scale. Long story short they would scheme to get me in some kind of trouble so I'd get fired so they could take my place."

"I'm sorry that happened to you. I didn't want to believe that the industry was as vicious as I was told prior to entering it myself, but it is. So many of my coworkers can't wait to see someone fail so they can be promoted."

"It's a shame that it's like this __." Taehyung looks at you now, a serious expression on. "It doesn't have to be this aggressive cycle of stepping on the next guy to get to your ideal position. That's why I've decided to go against the current and make as many friends as I can. People I genuinely like tend to be my closest connections." His eyes soften at this as he scans your face.

"That's a nice sentiment but doesn't that open you up to being taken advantage of?" You think back to the two assistants from earlier this morning in the hallway. Seemingly friends on the surface but actually yanking on each other's hair below.

He shrugs and pushes a couple of loose strands of his hair behind his ear. "Sure it might but, I couldn't sleep peacefully knowing I earned my achievements by cheating everyone else out of theirs. Life's too difficult to not have a good night's sleep do you think?"

"True," you agree. "I wish more people had this sort of mindset."

"Well, luckily we can lead by example. I assume you run against the current too?"

"I try but I still have a lot of ambition so I can't say I've made any friends so far. Other than maybe Jungkook."

"Ambition is good, distinguishes the serious people from the non-serious. Friends aren't easy to make in our world __ and pardon me but that Jungkook guy isn't your friend. At most he probably has a crush on you."

"Jungkook has a crush on anyone with two legs and boobs," you chuckle and Taehyung does the same. "But he has a girlfriend now I think."

"Well, that's a relief." His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I don't have to worry about him being a threat anymore."

You snicker at his comment. "What threat?"

Taehyung breaks into a shy grin and looks towards the ground. "Forget it, I'm just kidding around. We should head back inside. I think our time's about up." He moves to walk back inside the building but you stop him.

"Wait, no." You step closer to him. "I didn't get that joke."

He flickers his eyes up and down your body, taking in your curiosity. "You need me to spell it out for you __?" He pauses and takes a breath. "You're beautiful and I find myself extremely attracted to you. I'd–god forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable– I'd like to take you out while I'm still in Paris."

"Taehyung, that's....not a joke. Are you asking me on a date?"

"Yes, I'm asking you on a date. If you don't want to it's okay. Just say the word."

You smooth your hands down the side of your pants nervously. "Okay, what time and where?"

Taehyung's as shocked as you are by your response. "What are you doing tonight at 7 p.m?" he replies.

"Nothing, what are you doing?"

"Taking you out on a date I think. How's your dancing?"

"Oh I...I don't know. Depends on the type of dance. Why?" You know why. Of course, someone like Taehyung will want to take a slightly unconventional path for a first date.

"I want to take you to Le Duc des Lombards, you know that private jazz bar in town. So, if you can sway and don't mind being close to me we'll be in business."

"Alright." Don't overthink it, you think to yourself. It's just dancing. No biggie. "7 it is. I'll meet you there I guess."

"I can pick you up, actually, I'd really like to pick you up if I can. I know I'm such an old soul aren't I?"

"No problem," you can't contain your beaming smile. "We can exchange numbers and I'll text you my address."

"My phone's back in the studio. Let's do that before the end of the shoot."

"Shut the front door __!" Your best friend Elaine screams over the phone. "You're definitely wearing the sexy red dress I bought you for your birthday if you going to a jazz bar with, oh my god I can't even say his name. I'm so excited for you babe!"

"It's one date, Elaine. It'll probably not go anywhere either. I'm going into this as a fun night out with a very handsome man and that's all." You browse through your closet for something to wear. You've already showered and touched up your make-up. "Damn it, I have about twenty minutes before he gets here."

"I'm telling you __, wear the red one. Even if this will be a one-night thing it doesn't mean you can't look drop-dead gorgeous. Also, one more thing. What are you wearing for underwear?"

"Elaine!"

"What? If it were me I'd be looking as hot as I can tonight. Gives you a boost of confidence."

"Maybe," you say and pull out a black dress. "I'll think about it."

"Well think fast, because you're down to fifteen minutes now."

"Uh, shit." You toss the dress when you see there's a small tear in the strap. "Please tell me how I'm in the fashion industry and can't find anything to wear without holes in it."

"This is the last time I'm saying this __. Put on the red dress. It's more of a maroon so it'll make you blend with the mood of jazz but you'll pop out as well. And you'll look elegant with the silk sleeves and it's above the knee so you'll stay cool when you dance."

You card back the hangers until you get the dress Elaine is talking about. It's never been worn and it really is beautiful. "The neckline's kinda deep though," you say.

"You're boobs aren't gonna fall out if that's what you're worried about. I've seen the dress and it'll be great on your body. Plus, worst-case scenario you get laid by the hottest man in the damn universe."

"I'm not having sex with him you know..." you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. "This is a–"

"Fun night out. Yes babe, whatever you want to think." Elaine snickers over the phone.

"Fine, you win but I have to change now okay?" You set the phone down and start untying your robe. Are you wearing a transparent black lace set underneath? Yeah, but it's not like anyone's going to know about it.

"Don't forget to call me later! Or tomorrow depending on how tonight goes," she snickers again.

"Goodbye Elaine," you shake your head and end the call.

"You know what might look great with this dress is that ruby necklace I bought ages ago," you say to yourself. The necklace you're referring to is dainty yet never a let down no matter what you pair it with.

Satisfied, you head to your jewlery case in search for it.

"I see you found the place okay." You say once you hop into the passenger seat of Taehyung's Porsche. Man does well for himself.

"I did, and you look like a million dollars darling. Aphrodite herself couldn't even compare. I'm going to have the worst time trying not to stare at you tonight." Taehyung stands on the other side of your door and waits for your feet to be tucked in the vehicle before letting the door shut.

He insisted he come around and open it for you when he saw a glimpse of your figure walking towards his car.

"Darling?" you repeat inquisitively when he jumps in the drivers seat.

"Do you not like it? It's kinda old I know." Taehyung starts the car and puts the car in gear. He turns the wheel single-handedly and pulls out of your driveway.

There's something about seeing a man do this that always lights a fire inside you. Especially when said man is currently in a white, freshly pressed dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and dark grey dress pants.

"I like it," you say. "Darling. It fits the night well, since we're going go the jazz club. I like this look on you by the way."

Taehyung smiles at you briefly before focusing back on the road. The hand that rests on his knee shakes a little and his grip tightens on the wheel. "Hearing you compliment me makes me a little shy, sorry. But by the way, I like that ruby necklace you have on."

You smile and play with the chain. Always a hit.

The club is moderately crowded when you step foot in the building. The atmosphere is warm and inviting with the creme tones, bright white ceiling lights, and soft purple strobe lighting that shines from the stage. You and Taehyung are lucky to find a free table to claim on the end of the second row of seating.

"Have you been to Le Duc des Lombards before?" He asks, letting you take the inner seat.

"I came once but it was a long time ago when I was in college," you answer.

"Really?" Taehyung takes the seat next to you. "Where did you study?"

"Spéos photography school. A lot of wanna-be professional photographers attend there. I'm fortunate to be able to go."

"I'm glad you got to study there. I assume that's how you got a job with Adrien & Rosamel right?"

"It was definitely the main reason but," you sigh. "I did have some gracious references who help me get in, including Jungkook who went to the same school. As a videographer we were project partners a few times so he was a good person of contact. Along with a few professors of course."

Taehyung snatches the bar menu placed at your table, more aggressively than expected. "No offense but I'm really starting to not like that guy," he grits, jaw clenching. "From now on you can put me down for any further references. The photos you took look wonderful and you know I have some solid connections with some very important individuals."

"Taehyung..." You're amused by the peek of jealousy. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself? The photos need to be approved by our campaign managers first before any merit is given. Plus, you're not my boyfriend."

"Could be your boyfriend," he quips back and you whip your head in his direction.

"Hm?"

"Hm what? You heard me."

"I thought you said you were shy tonight," you accuse and lean over his shoulder to scan over the drink menu with him. When you do you get a strong whiff of his cologne. God, you love the smell of cologne. Would it be too far for you to grab him by the shirt collar and throw your face into his chest?

Yes __, too far. Don't do that. You waive off the thought.

"What do you want from the bar?" Taehyung asks and you give him your response. He heads for the bar in the back of the room as soon as you tell him, not even giving you any time to grab your wallet.

"Tae–" you jump up from you seat. "You don't have to pay for me. I can get my own."

"As my date, I'd be my honor to buy a drink for you __. But you can keep calling me Tae, it sounds nice coming from your lips." He turns around and continues to the bar.

Nearly two hours of live jazz music later and a few drinks later, you find yourself in a pair of long, sturdy arms. One of Taehyung's hands curls around your waist while the other laces in your fingers.

"You sway well," he drawls, pulling you closer to his body. I'd make you squirm more than you already are if it weren't for a bit of liquor in your system. "In fact, you're a natural. Makes me wonder what other areas you have a natural talent for."

"Okay monsieur," you playfully joke and continue to let him dance you in small circles. "We're getting a little close to the hot zone now."

"Are we? Must be because you're so unbearably hot. Did I tell you to look like Aphrodite in this dress?" Taehyung slips his hand from your waist. "Can I spin you?"

You nod and distance your body from his to prepare to spin into him. "If my memory serves right, you told me Aphrodite couldn't compare to me. Not that I look like her," you respond to his prior question.

"Ah that's right," he hums. "That's even better."

Taehyung's slender arms wrap around your waist when you get to the end of your twirls. Your back presses tight against his chest as he brings his lips near your ear. "You remember when I asked you if you wanted to know my favorite position? Well, this is one of them, darling."

Your breaths get shorter as you take in his charm and you're forced to look into the crowd of people in front of you. Most are busy dancing with their own partners but a few stragglers smile in your direction.

"You make a lovely couple," one older woman says to you both. "You'll make beautiful children."

"Oh we're not–"

"Yes, we will. Thank you, madame," Taehyung cuts in and you pull yourself from his hold to face him.

"Tae, what the hell are you saying?" His face sculpted from the gods themselves stares down at you in a devilish smirk.

"Is it too hot now?" He teases as he refers to your comment minutes ago about it getting too close to the hot zone.

"You're drunk aren't you?" You gently accuse with your arms crossing over your chest.

"I'm not." He snakes his arms back around you smoothly. "I have to drive you home tonight. What kind of man would I be if I got drunk?"

You let him pull you into himself again and this time when he does you feel the outline of an erection forming in his trousers.

Fuck, you curse to yourself, he's not small that's for damn sure.

"How are you feeling __? Getting tired or you wanna stay longer?"

You smirk. "I should be asking you that seeing you have a situation down there."

"Shit—" he quickly retracts his hands on your waist and backs away from you. "I'm sorry, I know we've been flirting around but I don't want to you to think that's all I'm here for."

"Its okay Taehyung, it's just a biological response," you try to soothe. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah but it's because of you," he stresses. "I want you to know that I'm into you romantically and not just horny with lust."

Your heart clenches and your feet move to approach him on their own. You cup his cheeks with your hands and stare deep into his coffee-black eyes. "Taehyung, I've had my share of male suitors who have all been horny with lust and nothing else. I never thought for a second you were one of them okay? Plus, you're not the only one worked up tonight." You bite your cheek, unsure what'll come from admitting to the following.

"I like you too Taehyung," you finish.

"You do?" He asks with stars in his eyes, same blinding smile as usual.

You nod in affirmation.

"Is this the part where I get to kiss you?" His lids relax as he waits for your response.

"I suppose you can. Are you a good kisser?"

Taehyung snorts lightly and surprises you with a quick peck to your lips. But when he tilts his head back to look you in the eye again, you pull his face back to yours and press your lips fully on his.

Taehyung finds your waist with his fingers again the longer and deeper the kiss gets. He moves his soft lips on yours firmly then sucks on your bottom lip until his tongue is granted access into your mouth.

"Tae," you moan his name quietly. "People are starting to stare."

"And?"

You reluctantly break the kiss. "We should probably finish this in the car."

"I'd much rather have you finish in my bed though," he says before thinking it through. "Shit—sorry I did it again."

Taehyung's lips move against yours roughly as he makes out with you in the back seat. You decided I'd be easier to kiss without the center console getting in the way.

"You know I don't like putting out on the first date but...how long until you have to return to Seoul?" You tug his blonde hair as his hands wander up and down your torso.

"Two months," he replies, slightly pained. "That's actually something we should talk about if this is going where I think it is."

"Do you not do long distance relationships?"

"I don't know." He brings his lips to the side of your neck, sucking on the delicate skin. "I've never done it before. Have you?"

You shake you head. "No but I heard it's not easy."

Taehyung moves away from your neck to take your hands in his and presses a kiss to them. "I guess we have a few choices then. One, we stop here and sum it up to a nice evening out where I got to steal a kiss the most beautiful woman. I might cry myself to sleep later," he jokes but you wouldn't out it completely past him.

"Two, we make the best of it while I'm here. I'll take you out every night possible until I have to leave. We call it a temporary relationship of sorts. Or my personal favorite, we date with intent and I'll visit you every chance I get. I'll even relocate if necessary."

"God Taehyung, I don't even know. How can you decide so soon?"

"The moving part was too much, I know. I just meant that I want to be serious. Or at least give it a shot. But if that's something that doesn't work for you then we should probably stop here."

"I want to go out again though. I don't want to stop."

"So what?"

"Call me crazy but let's be serious. You're an adult, I'm an adult. Let's fucking do this." You go to kiss him again but he doesn't let you.

"Wait, __. You sure you want to go through with this?"

"I know there's a lot of grey areas to consider but I'd hate to miss out on something amazing because of a potential threat. We go out and if it works out well, then maybe...one of us can relocate. And if it doesn't then we gave it our best."

"Alright," he slowly leans his face towards you again. "If you're on board then I am too. Since we're doing it this way....do you want me to take you home?"

You shake your head in rejection. "Take me to your bed Taehyung."

"Just when I thought you couldn't get more beautiful you always make a fool out of me."

Taehyung traces down the curves of your body with cool hands as you stand in front of him in nothing but your black lingerie on. He's asked that your ruby necklace stay on too which did throw you off guard a tad.

His shirt is off himself, revealing his lean, tanned torso. His pants are off as well, showing off his his muscular thighs. No wonder he's one of the most wanted models in the world.

He's absolutely breathtaking.

"Is this designer?" He asks and you nod. "Of course, only the finest lace should be allowed to touch your body." Slender fingers dance across the cups of your bra, feeling the fabric carefully. He's not gropping at all.

"You're a flatterer aren't you?" You look him in the eye and your heart skips a beat. He's staring back at you with a similar intensity as the shoot earlier. Just like a panther, you think —alluring, dangerous, and incapable of escaping.

"Not flattering darling. Admiring," he responds lowly. "Can I remove it?" He leans forward to reach behind your back and graze across the hooks of the bra. His lips press a kiss to the space just below your ear as he does.

"Y-yes, please do," your voice hitches.

Taehyung unfastens the material from your body and you shake it off your arms and let it fall on the floor.

"Fuck," he swears and nibbles the edge of your ear while he palms your bare breasts. He thumbs at your nipples a little until their pebbling to his satisfaction. "Are you sure I can't make you my muse for my next painting?"

You chuckle and let him mouth at one of your breasts. "Maybe in time—oh god that feels good," you moan his tongue licks across you nipple.

"In time? Seems we've made some progress. You gave me a flat out no this morning." Taehyung lowers himself on his knee and presses a kiss to your bare waist. Its gentle and featherlike. He then fiddles with the edge of your lace panties as he did with your bra.

"That's because we were strangers, coworkers. However you want to call it."

"Mm, you have a point. May I?" He asks for permission and you nod with a small whine. His fingers brushing around your hips, nearing your ass only hightens your arousal.

Once he drags the thin material down your legs you step out of them and kick them to the side. Taehyung groans deeply when your center is exposed to him.

"Gods I want to lick this pussy so much. Will you let me eat you out tonight?"

"Fuck Tae," you card through his blonde hair. "Yes."

"Lets get you on my bed," he grunts, getting up from his kneeled position. He leads you to the edge of his bed where you crawl on top of his rich comforter, ass in full view as he follows behind you.

Once you're settled on your back Taehyung pushes your legs up and spreads your thighs wide open. He then crouches between them and kisses you inner thighs.

"You're very wet down here," he mumbles. "Do you want fingers first?"

"Three please," you request, already clawing at the sheets.

"Three?" Taehyung lifts his head to look at you. "You're certain you want to start with three?"

You chuckle. "I have the feeling that I'm going to need to take at least three fingers and your tongue before I can take your cock wholely. Correct me if I'm wrong."

He smirks and brings a slender finger up your slit. "No, you couldn't be more right." He pushes the finger all the way in, sinking between your velvety walls.

"Ohh," you moan.

Taehyung adds another, pumping and curling both fingers before adding the third. "So wet baby, do you hear yourself?"

The squelching sound of his fingers working in your pussy causes your core to clench and a streak of pearly white liquid to run down your thigh. Taehyung grows feral at the sight and starts pumping into you at a faster pace.

"Goddamn you're a sensitive one. When's the last time you were fingered?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. Probably two years ago?"

"Well allow me to reacquaint you with such pleasure."

Taehyung continues to work in your pussy with his fingers, hitting your g-spot with every push and curl. Strings of profanities leave your mouth as he does this and when he licks his tongue over your folds you scream in pleasure.

"Fuck Tae, don't stop! So good, oh my god," you moan and sink your fingers in his hair.

He doesn't stop at all, he doesn't slow down either. His fingers eventually pull out of you after a dozen more pumps to make room for his tongue to dip in your pussy. He teases your clit too which is all you needed to send you over the edge.

"I'm coming Tae," you say as your come on his tongue. He groans at the act and cleans up as much left over spillage as he can before moving away from your center.

"I love the way you taste," he licks the corner of his lips and makes his way up your body until he's hovering over your face. Taehyung presses a hard kiss to your lips after with traces of your come still on his tongue.

"Don't you agree?" He asks when he gives you a breath.

"I think I'd prefer the taste of something else instead," you respond with eyes flickering to his crotch.

He smirks and brings a hand up to graze the ruby necklace that's still around your neck. "You want my cock in your mouth baby? Wanna suck on it nice and firm between those pretty lips?"

"I do. Want to make you feel good too and taste your come."

"Mm," he groans. "Don't temp me darling. I'd really much rather come in your tight pussy."

"In a condom," you remind him.

"Yes of course, but still, in your pussy," he replies. "But who am I to deny you of what you want. Pick one, in your mouth or in your cunt?"

Your pussy clenches at his casualness. "Do I have to pick just one?"

"Fucking hell," he seethes. "You're a little greedy for our first time together aren't you?"

"ijuswansucuok."

"What?"

"I just want to suck your cock," you repeat. "But if I had to choose I want you to fuck me."

Taehyung gets off the bed hearing your words and sticks his thumbs in his briefs. "I'll tell you what," he pushes his underwear down to let his cock bounce free. It's huge, vein tracing up the underside, and leaking with pre-cum at the tip.

"I'll let you suck me off any other time because as you can see, I'm inches away from blowing my load already. But to make up for it, I'll let you have your pick of any position you want."

Your eyes train on his throbbing length as he crawls back to you on the bed. You know you should control yourself but you can't help but reach out and touch it.

"Oh fuuck," he clenches his teeth as your hand tightens around him. Your thumb traces his slit, rubbing circles on it. "God your fingers feel heavenly on me. But I need you to stop and tell me what position you want to be in, please."

"Doggy and can you make me squirt?"

"Yes fuck," he moans as you keep teasing his slit. "Face the headboard and get on your hands and knees."

You do as as he says and thank god you did because he was seconds away from thrusting up in your hand. Taehyung grabs a condom from the drawer by his nightstand and rips it open with his teeth. He then rolls it down his think length until he completely covered.

"Ready?" He asks you.

"Put it in me Tae. Need you inside me, please."

"I'm going to ease in alright? I'm pretty fucking big and I don't want to hurt you." At that he clamps his hands around your waist and starts nudging his cock into your entrance.

"Oh fuck—" you screw your eyes shut at the stretch. So good but he's right, he's too big. You don't know how he's going to fit himself all the way in you.

"Keep breathing darling and relax your muscles. We're taking this really slow until I can bottom out."

You do as he says as he continues to sink his length into you. "Taehyung, Taehyung fuck it feel so good but god you're a beast."

"I know and you're doing so good for me," he coos. "We're about halfway there. You're pussy feels amazing around me. Still wet with your come."

You grip the mattress and let out moan after moan. "You're only half-way in me? God I feel like I'm being split in half."

Taehyung pulls himself out of you then thrusts back in, gently but firm enough to jolt your whole body forward. He repeats the motion with each thrust going deeper than the last.

"Shit!" He groans as he beats himself into you. "So close baby. I'm almost all the way in."

"Taehyungtaehyungtaehyung," is the only word coming from you. All you feel is pleasure as he thrusts himself into you. It's been so long since you felt this good, and who the hell would have guessed it'd be Kim Taehyung to remind you of such feelings.

"There we go," he grunts as he finally, finally bottoms out. "There we fucking go baby, how are you feeling?" He asks as he picks up his pace.

"Fuck me—harder Tae," your moans are incoherent as your whole body to Taehyung.

The next ten minutes are nothing but skin slapping against skin as his cock beats inside of you, desperately working you up to another orgasm.

"Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck," Taehyung pulls himself all the way back then snaps his hips back in, making you dizzy with arousal. "Look at you taking my big cock all at once. Just so eager to please huh? Like the way I fill you up?"

"Yes, yes I do," you pant, sweat dripping from your forehead. If you looked over your shoulder you'd see Taehyung doing the same. "I'm getting close Tae!"

"Go ahead and play with your clit for me then," he growls. "You must be so sore down there."

You quickly reach a hand down to your clit, circling it while Taehyung thrusts himself into you wholeheartedly. "Oh god, I'm almost there. I feel it Tae," you moan as the cord inside you gets tighter, threatening to break any second.

"Go on, coat my cock with your slick darling. Show me how good I'm making you feel as I rearrange your guts. You feel it deep in your stomach can't you? Fuck, I'm close myself!"

You grind your hips on his cock a few times and with that you reach your high, releasing all over Taehyung. But despite your second orgasm, his cock keeps thrusting into you.

"Can you give me one more? Need to make you squirt."

"Uh I don't know Tae, I'm not sure if I can c-come again."

"Yes you can and you will." He fucks into as hard as he can at that, no other words come from him other than deep groans. You on the other hand can't stop screaming.

"Too much Taehyung, I can't, please, need you to come. Fuck!" Despite your protest you are indeed close to a other orgasm; the third one of the night. You pussy uncontrollably clenches around Taehyung as his cock starts twitching inside you.

"Just a little more darling, getting so close. Gonna make you feel so good," he promises as his thrusts get sloppier.

"You already made me feel good Tae, want you to come too."

"I am," he replies, finally releasing. "Oh shit!"

"What? What is it?"

"You're squirting baby. Making a mess all over me and my thousand dollar sheets."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry-fuck. I'll replace them!"

"Like hell you will," he pulls out of you, ties his condom off and tosses in the trash next to his bed. He then flips you on your back and captures your lips roughly. "These sheets are mine and they'll stay mine just like you will from now on. As long as I can help it at least. Sound good?"

"Okay Taehyung," you nod. "Yours."

"Good, now how does a bath sound?"

"Fantastic," you exhale and close your eyes.

"Taehyung, Taehyung wake up." You shake the man by the shoulders next to you with both hands. "Get up get up get up!"

"What's the emergency?" He rubs his tired eyes as you move to leap up from the bed. You have the sheets wrapped tight around your body.

"We have a shoot at the beach with the team in half an hour! Hurry up and put your clothes on, you have to drive me back to my house so I can change into proper clothing."

"Why don't you wear one of my shirts or something?" He yanks your wrist towards him until you're forced to loosen your grip on his sheets and are forced atop his chest.

"Seriously? Why don't we just tell them we slept together at that point? You're crazy Kim Taehyung."

"You're making it sound like we had a one night stand," he pouts for the first time and you chuckle at how cute he looks.

"Of course it's not that Tae, it's just we still work together. We can't have them knowing we have a thing this early."

"Can we at least tell Jungkook?"

"No!" You playfully slap his shoulder. "Stop being so obsessed with him. He's got a girlfriend. Now get up, we really need to go."

"Alright, but give me a kiss first." He puckers up his lips and you concede by pressing your lips to his. "Are you a morning sex person?" He asks.

"No, we need to leave." You hop out of the bed and race to his bathroom.

"Goddamn it," he curses by himself. "Day one of being your girlfriend and she's already leaving you high and dry."

Taehyung throws the covers off his naked body and walks to the bathroom to join you in the shower—nothing but a big, happy grin on his face.

a/n: oh my gosh guys, this took me a long time. But I hope you enjoyed and lmk what you think 💞 lmk if you want to be tagged for part 2 ☺

Masterlist

Taglist:

@faiyh @brieeoche @lovemeforeternity @daughterof-aphrodit @daughterof-aphrodit @jjkluver7 @mystaerytete @sparklingocean @main-bangtansmauyeondan @ahgasegotarmy116

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagine #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts au #bts imagines #fic:reflections #kookslastbutton

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mechaknight-98 · 27 days

Text

First Time (NSFW) Ft Yerin

Authors note: Got inspired by @coldfanbou recent ask to make this so enjoy.

You and Yerin had been friends for ages when the topic of virginity was brought up. It was during a stay-in “date” at her place the two of you were enjoying pizza and fighting games together. you got Yerin into them after showing her Undernight. it was your friendship anniversary and your gift for her was a brand new fightstick. she broke her first cheap one during a clumsy button-mashing session which pushed you to finally have her go through the training and mission modes. Turns out Yerin was a natural.

She was in the process of stomping you into a paste with her “new main” Yuzuriha. You wanted to be fair and not bust out your main: Carmine or Londreika. So you landed on the mechanically complex Chaos a character you have wanted to try for a long time. They continued at a relentless pace. Leading you to go 0-21 with the character.

“Wow you suck at this game,” Yerin chuckled. You shrugged and she looked at you annoyed

“Wait are you going easy on me,” she questioned. You shrugged. Yerin jumps onto you.

“Excuse Me Mister but I believe I asked you to take this seriously,” she teases. You smile as you lock eyes with her.

“Well excuse me for wanting to let my best friend have fun before I smash her,”

“Please you wouldn’t know what to do with all of this,” Yerin says moving her arms around her body. Deciding to play her game you reply

“Yep, my virgin ass could never handle a slut like you,” you tease back

“Im not slut. I'm…wait you're a virgin,” Yerin says as she registers what you said. You nod and Yerin’s features soften.

“I can't believe it. All this time and I thought you were Mr. Poon slayer,” Yerin says goofily. You squint at her talk unsure of how to respond.

“Um no it's just never came up. Who knows maybe I'm waiting for my best friend to be my first,” you bluff.

The atmosphere in the room shifts dramatically and Yerin’s eyes narrow. She smiles at you hungrily.

“Are you sure,” she asks. Her voice is husky almost maliciously so. You nod hesitantly not understanding what you just agreed to. Yerin gets up grabs your arm forcibly and leads you to the bedroom. She smiles as she begins to make a show of stripping.

“I hope you're ready baby,” Yerin says. At that point, you realize you may have made a mistake. You see the switch in her flip and gone is your hyper-energetic best friend and in her place a vixen looking for whom she may devour. You watch in stunned awe as her sexy aura begins to pulse around as she continues her show.

Her top is the first thing to come off as you watch her desperately trying to entice you.

“You know baby it's been a while since I have slaked my thirst and I was hoping that I could get some action tonight,” Yerin said her silky voice creating a honey trap for her prey (you. You smile as your erection grows. Yerin watches with perverse glee as she imagines all of the things she would do to you.

You mirror her taking your pants off as she takes her top off and in this weird dance you two share it ends with both of you naked. Yerin smiles as she pushes you onto the bed. A hungry smile twists her lips maliciously. You feel her pussy drip, drip, over your crotch. You groan as She slowly grinds over the tip. Her folds entice you and fill your mind with nothing but her. You accidentally thrust into her and she she pushes you back down.

“Careful baby.” Yerin whimpers as her arousal rises due to your eagerness. She continues her slow grind as one last attempt to have you back out. After whipping you up into a feral frenzy she smiles. She gets up and moves to the edge of the bed where she wiggles her cute butt enticing you. You get up and race to place yourself behind her. You line yourself up with her entrance. You slowly push in and it's overwhelming how wet she is. You groan as you try to steady your breathing. Her body shivers at being filled. At last, the mantis has you trapped. Her legs wrap around your waist tightly as you bottom out. You watch as another switch flips and Yerin says to you,

“I'm not letting you go until you can't get it up, baby. Now, fuck me,” her encouragement is all you need to start a fervent pace. Her cunt gushes as you thrust. Yerin smiles knowingly as your eagerness gets the better of you, but that's part of the fun for her. You thrust into her with an erratic rhythm only focused on relieving an itch she has now ingrained in you. You pound her pussy relentlessly. Yerin smiles as she watches you lose yourself inside her.

“Take it. Come on give it to me.” she encourages, and so you go harder. You go harder. Yerin loves how eager to please you were as you rut into her. She smiles as she feels you begin to twitch.

“Gonna cum baby? Does it give me your first load? Let my pussy claim you,” Yerin moans as you thrust harder. She arches her back and tightens her pussy around you while giving you her best blissful smile to coax a heavy load from you.” she smiles when you violently explode into her avaricious pussy. Yerin cooes as you come down from your high. You feel lightheaded. Yerin smiles knowing she's got you. As you fall back she steadied you to the bed where she gets on top.

“Okay baby my turn,” she moans as she begins to ride you. Disoriented you watch her body bounce and sway in a lusted stupor.

“Do you like my body baby,” she asks. You nod weakly desperate to pass out but the friction and painful pleasure from your union keep you awake. She continues to ride and grind into you as chases her high.

“Come on baby give me another load, she moans as she continues to grind into you. You watch helplessly as she cums all over your cock. Yerin smiles watching your pained expression as her pussy milks another load out of you

“Don't worry baby it gets better after the fourth, and eighth rounds,” Yerin says as she continues to devour your essence. She continues her ride and she begins to kiss and caress your body.

“You know I was wondering when you'd get the courage to take me,” Yerin says with a smile. You are merely holding on trying not to drown in the ocean that she has brought you two. She brings a nipple to your mouth and commands you to suck

“Something to take your mind off things,” Yerin says as you happily begin to suck on her right breast. She tastes sweet with a hint of salt and it drives you wild to mount a seemingly herculean effort as you fuck her back. You quickly realize your mistake as she garners another explosion from you. The fatigue and pain begin to set in.

The next day you have a pounding headache but a satisfied Yerin next to you. She stirs as you do. She smiles at you

“I hope you're ready because we're going to end all of our date nights now this way. You know since we're together now,” Yerin teases.

You groan but smile as you kiss her forehead.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #yerin #gfriend #gfriend smut #gfriend yerin #yerin smut

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saintslewis · 8 months

Text

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!oc

— trope: fake/arranged marriage

— summary: the Browns and the Hamiltons have been neighbours for many years, Nadia and their oldest son, Lewis, not being as close as the families had hoped they would be. Years later, everyone drifts apart into different neighbourhoods, some others becoming one of the best drivers to ever grace the sport of Formula One however being a man of his stature, fame came along with it and so did the scandals.

can a fake marriage to a complete stranger help keep his image alive? let’s find out!

✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ———————— let’s meet the lovely couple!

👩🏽‍🏫 —— nadia brown!

“the coolest teacher ever”

⸰ֺ⭑ - a south african native who moved to stevenage with her mom when she was 8 and gosh, her character development is one for the books. from being the shy one for all of her school years, university changed everything and made her the social butterfly that you will all grow to love soon. fav colour is pink. fav artist is beyoncé. she teaches history and knows jack shit about f1 except that the cool guy that her parents support used to be their neighbour. absolutely loves the moon and is a part time stylist. will fight for you even she met you a second ago.

🏎️ —— lewis hamilton!

“the goat.”

⸰ֺ⭑ - a literal superstar. the stevenage driver who i would describe as the coolest person ever and many would agree. an adrenaline junky with a heart of gold and filled with positivity (and sass but you didn’t hear it from me). thee fashionista and he knows he’s fine, he just does. father to roscoe. fav colour is purple. loves discussing space and its beauty. did i mention he’s the coolest guy ever? super supportive of everyone around him and he’s knighted. ladies and gents, mr mercedes!

✧༚ ˎˊ˗ info abt renaissance!

˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, a bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, a talk of ad21, south african slang, slight hints of smut (18+ MDNI), not much of a slow burn lol, lots and lots of brand names, slight themes of sugar daddy! lewis at some point lol (think of it as him spoiling her!)

˖ ࣪⭑ - inspo: this idea just spawned into my head as well as a few of my wip’s mushed together to make this masterpiece. i absolutely love beyonce so using RENAISSANCE for a project so special to me just make wanna do a couple cartwheels. i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did making this!

˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: omg hi everybody 🤭. first oc on tumblr woohoo! not a lot of the song lyrics will relate to the plot of the chapter but more so the beat of the song or the vibe? hope that makes sense lol. i hope you guys like the humour i’m gonna add in here. there isn’t a schedule for this yet but hopefully i’ll be more organised in the future. let’s get this party started!

˖ ࣪⭑ - taglist: @thisismeracing @goldsainz @folkloresthings @flowerchild-96 @userlando (i read your blogs as if it’s my morning paper so i hope you like this 😭) @non-stop-imagines @royallyprincesslilly . let me know if you wanna be tagged in this or future fics!

˖ ࣪⭑ - dividers by @cafekitsune 🫶🏽

˖ ࣪⭑ - pictures from pinterest and twitter

˖ ࣪⭑ - nadia faceclaim: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 !

1. I’M THAT GIRL

- the first meeting.

2. COZY

- imagine having dinner with your family then they announce that you’re getting married? you better get cozy for this one!

3. ALIEN SUPERSTAR

- first “date”. gotta show the world the newest married couple!

4. CUFF IT

- didn’t Lewis say he was a professional dancer? well now he is 🕺🏽

5. ENERGY

- first day in the paddock, let’s gaurrr

6. BREAK MY SOUL

- ooohhhhh, the school’s calling for a meeting with Nadia 😟

7. CHURCH GIRL

- party time activated ‼️

8. PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA

- a rainy afternoon in the kitchen with the both of them dancing? literally screaming!

9. VIRGO’S GROOVE

- catching feelings there?

10. MOVE

- a visit to Nadia’s work place isn’t so bad, right? …right?

11. HEATED

- time to let the world know who exactly Nadia is and why to not mess with her or her husband. period.

12. THIQUE

- party time pt 2?

13. ALL UP IN YOUR MIND

- paris fashion week? uh yes!

14. AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM

- quick lil trip to new york or la or san francisco? who knows? 🤭

15. PURE/HONEY

- three words. eight letters.

16. SUMMER RENAISSANCE

- the Hamiltons hit the Hamptons!

status: ongoing

saintslewis 🫶🏽

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #formula one x reader #x black reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x oc #fake marriage au #☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Note

eddie/wedding/tequila 🍻

Drunk Eddie is my favorite Eddie to write hehehe 💚

Warnings: alcohol consumption, Eddie is absolutely plastered, allusion to smut

WC: 989

Join my 2k followers celebration!

The band plays the final note of The Police’s “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” and begins the opening chords of “Truly Madly Deeply.”

“Okay, let’s slow things down for all the lovebirds out there,” the lead singer croons into the mic. “Grab your sweetheart and bring ‘em onto the dance floor.”

You make your way over to your table and extend your hand. “May I have this dance?” you ask sweetly, frowning when the metalhead shakes his head. A lock of his curly brown hair comes loose from the bun at the nape of his neck. “Why not?”

“I’d love to,” Eddie slurs, taking another sip of his drink, “but ‘m married to the love of my life. I only wan’ dance with her.”

Stifling a giggle, you sit in the chair next to him and rub his back. “I know that. Because I’m your wife, Eddie.” You motion to the diamond on your ring finger and the silver band on his. “We’ve been married for two years.”

“No fuckin’ way!” he exclaims. “That’s awesome. ‘Cause you’re, like, s’fucking beautiful.” He gasps. “Holy shit, my wife is beautiful!”

The scent of tequila wafts from his breath, and you crinkle your nose. “Eds, how many shots did you and Robin do?”

Eddie whines and throws his head back. “Don’t make me do math at a party!” He rests his head on your shoulder and grabs your hand, placing it atop his scalp. “Can you give me scratches?”

You oblige, kissing just above his ear. “C’mon, puppy dog,” you tease. “Let’s get you back to the hotel room.” Starting to help him up, you spot Steve making his rounds, bow tie undone and face flushed from dancing. You send up a silent prayer that Eddie won’t attract his attention, but it must get intercepted.

“Harrington!” your husband calls out. Multiple guests turn to face you; it is a Harrington wedding, afterall. “Get over here, big boy!” He stumbles towards the groom and claps a ringed hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, buddy,” Steve says with a chuckle. “Y’havin’ a good time?”

“The best.” Eddie is fully leaning on his friend now, and you mouth Sorry in Steve’s direction. “Dude, my wife is so hot.”

You bury your head in your hands; your cheeks are burning with embarrassment. “Let’s go, Eddie,” you insist, grateful that Steve appears unfazed by the comment.

“Stevie, you ever been in love?” Eddie asks, suddenly serious. His eyes are glassy and half-lidded; it’s only a matter of time before he falls asleep.

Steve looks around at the hotel ballroom, eyebrows raised. “Uh, yeah. I just got married, like, three hours ago. You were a groomsman.”

“Shit, yeah!” Eddie sounds as though he’s receiving brand-new information. “Congrats, man. Anyway,” he presses on, ignoring you tugging on his sleeve, “I jus’ want you to know that I, Eddie Munson, am also in love. With this girl right here.” He flails his free arm around until he finds your waist and pulls you into him.

“Well, I’m, uh, happy to hear that,” Steve manages, and you shoot him another apologetic glance before dragging Eddie to the elevator and into the hotel room. You can’t turn the key fast enough.

Eddie flops onto the bed, still fully dressed in his tuxedo and shoes. You take a moment to appreciate the silence before he pipes up:

“We gotta beat Steve.”

Despite your better judgment, you respond with an incredulous, “what?”

“We gotta beat Steve,” Eddie repeats. “We got married, but now he’s married, too. So we’re not winning anymore.” He pouts for a millisecond before sitting up suddenly, steadying himself on the sheets. “We should have a baby!”

You burst out laughing. “Babe, I love you. But I am not bringing new life into this world just so you can win some imaginary competition against Steve.”

“Fine,” Eddie slumps down, defeated.

You figure that will be the end of the discussion, but you should know better at this point. You’re rifling through your suitcase for a pair of pajamas when you hear the mini fridge door open.

“What are you doing now?” you hiss.

“‘M wooing you so you’ll have my baby,” he hiccups, pulling out a small bottle of Patrón and unscrewing the cap. “I call this one the ‘wraparound.’” Eddie proceeds to drag the bottle around his head, spilling tequila everywhere. “Oopsie daisy!” He cackles like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

You pluck the half-empty bottle from his grasp and set it on the nightstand. “Eddie, get out of those clothes and Go. To. Bed.” you say through gritted teeth.

Eddie snorts. “If you wanna see me naked, you gotta take me out to dinner first.” But he obliges, sleeping as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you snuggle in next to him. He rarely drinks beyond an occasional post-work beer, so you’re glad he let loose tonight. You just wish you didn’t have to babysit him.

Eddie stirs, wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist. “My sexy lil’ wife,” he mumbles. “Prettiest girl ‘ve ever seen.” He nestles into the crook of your neck. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Eds,” you tell him, brushing the stray hair from his face and kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Big day tomorrow. Gotta make a baby so we can beat Harrington.”

“Yeah, okay,” you reply tersely, rolling your eyes.

But the next morning, after a cup of black coffee and two Advil, Eddie’s ushering you back into bed.

“I was serious about that baby, sweetheart,” he muses. “And not because of a contest with Steve.”

You smile, bringing your lips to his soft, plush ones. “Really?”

“Really,” he affirms, climbing on top of you and peppering your face with kisses. “But if there was a contest, we would totally be the superior couple.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

#bug's 2k celebration #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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anantaru · 1 year

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

with all the trauma scaramouche had suffered from in the past, you made it your duty to show him that it was okay to love and crave intimacy.

୨୧ WORD COUNT: 4.1k

୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw, fem! reader, oral sex (male! receiving), unprotected sex, scaramouche & reader are in a relationship, first time being intimate, slight biting/marking, nipple play, cute scaramouche, loads of love, scara deserves it all.

for one, you were no stranger to handing out affection, love, to the person you had certainly fallen for.

he, on the other hand, had not been on best of terms with himself. Indeed, in midst the impenetrable darkness he had suffered from in the past, a faint glimmer of light had broken through him, said light being you and your person alone.

scaramouche had not fallen for you immediately, it wasn't as if he didn't feel any form of connection with you, or a somewhat higher power, he so referred to it, that has brought the two of you together with it not mattering where either of you were. Surely, the storm in him still roamed, with the fear of yet another loss feeding into his darkened thoughts of sorrow and hatred, that weren't only directed to the world, but to himself.

was him existing, enough? did he really deserve to be here and live a normal life after all, with someone he cared for? swallowing back the knot that threatened to tie in his throat, he reevaluated the thoughts he found he was surrounded with. No matter the outcome, in the end no one was able to possibly find a reasonable answer to the impractical question he would throw himself in.

nevertheless, scaramouche understood the idea of being affectionate towards your partner, more so intimate. In fact, he wasn't an idiot, if mere humans were able to wrap their mind around such concept, why shouldn't he?

he found himself rather plastered around particular imagines in his dreams, with your body bare, naked embraced tightly in his arms. It was vividly played over and over, with the building desire voicing itself without leaving. Your touch or the natural responses you'd give to him felt as if he somehow invaded your space with his disgusting thoughts.

yet still, he was unable to understand a single syllable of it. not in a way someone might think, the idea of kissing and worshipping someone's body was not a brand new thought of his. It's more that, in his eyes, if he really was about to give himself to a fragile human yet again, what would happen if something was to rip you off him one day?

with your hand in his, he searched his mind again, for something positive, optimistic, it didn't matter what it was as long as he recalled the safety that rose in him upon sensing your skin on his own.

"you're in your head again."

intentionally, you posed your question gently for him to listen to, he leaned his head to meet your eyes, not being capable to offer any form of rebuttal this time. A smile, with no resistance, dancing on your lips as you scooted over to him once more, with his hand tightening around yours.

"i wasn't in my head, I just thought about something rather hard." there it was, you giggled, the little snarky response you were waiting for. His facial expression intrigued you on this night, it contorted something it rarely did, for some reason he too, was far less argumentative, more attentive and relaxed in his antics.

"does this bother you?" you pointed towards your hand while patting your thumb over his knuckles. All movements were slowed, working against time, with your voice silent. How dearly he wanted to tell you that he in fact, adored every single moment of your touch on his own and that he would never be bothered by anything of it.

"huh, does it look like it does?" the irritation in him was growing, with scaramouche not having a single clue on how to tell you all of that without sounding like a downright insane individual. There was a rustle of fabric when he slightly wiggled himself in a much more comfortable position, with your head now resting on his chest.

judging by the way his chest was heaving as a result of his frantic breathing, you figured something was up, at this point, you knew your boyfriend better than anyone else. However, for a moment, all you craved for was to lay still and drink in the natural responses he unintentionally provided you with.

scaramouche continued to hold your hand, while his other one proceeded to wrap around your waist, trembling in his play before he stilled his fingers on you, struggling but still managing to hold himself close with his thoughts weighing him down.

following suit, you propped your chin onto his chest, silently admiring his dominant features through your lashes, the details on your lips raising in a smirk.

"something is up, i can feel it."

you really wanted to know it now, being very much aware on how much he despised whenever you were noisy with him. It was so deliciously simple to get him over the edge, too simple almost when you already noticed the slight *click* he made with his tongue.

"you've gone all quiet." the barely noticeable change in your voice rose slight goosebumps on his skin. You pulled your hand away from his hold to keep your palm on his chest.

"you're just imagining things." his lips twisted, your throat bubbling with a contagious laughter from his response. Taking a tiny, careful, approach to him once more, you slowly slid your body up so your face would now directly hover over his, thoughts swirling.

that damned spark in your eyes again, scaramouche remembered the first time he witnessed that gesture and when you looked at him in that special way, so pure, yet so passionate, in a way it was intimate too, leaving him no peace.

"maybe you're right, satisfied now?" there was a piercing bitterness in his cutting words, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles over your cheek sensually. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, heart leaping at the contact with his touch.

who was he fooling right now? you were his partner, his love, he wondered if he should just go for what he had longed for after all.

which, he then did, might we add, in his own way.

"can you kiss me?"

it was foolish, really, if anything, scaramouche wanted to curse himself for saying something so embarrassing to you, settling his hand on your cheek while attempting to take it away. Maybe he could make you believe that he was in fact, sleep talking right now, or sick. Was he even able to get sick in the first place?

doubt stayed in his mind, when you in a sudden manner, drew your hand to his own which was cupping your cheek, carefully intertwining your fingers with each other, you shifted like water with scaramouche welcoming the pull of your weight on his body.

"always."

your fingers brushed on the column of his throat, the skin was warm and smooth on your finger tips. Scaramouche would never deny the steps you were taking right now, he enjoyed it, craved it, as a smile flickered upon placing your lips on his own.

there was a strong fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach, finding a rhythm, practically demanding you to continue.

how much he had waited for you to kiss him like that, struggling to remain still while stifling his sounds. Warmth, your warmth in particular, for him it felt almost nauseating to have it radiate through his body in such thickened spurts.

briefly, you pulled away, resting your forehead on his own, delighted. The presumedly cold wind sighed outside, shrilling, not to mention low, adding to the fevered beat on your heart.

scaramouche set his fingers on your chin, with a little effort, pulling you back in. He wanted, no, needed this, adding his tongue. Not so much different from the dreams he would be grazed with every now and then, you slid his hand over his chest, playfully tapping your tips around his ribcage.

feeling the chill on your fingers over his shirt, he furrowed his brows lightly, laying his hand on the nape of your neck, tumbling into becoming hopeless addicted to your taste.

lets call it an arch of desire, that made you run your hand further, lowering yourself on his stomach before resting. Right now, the continues lust that seemed to have been stored for many weeks in him, drowned out all the outside noise until all he was able to hear was your erratic breathing.

catching you by surprise, he enveloped his hand around your wrist, dragging you down on where he so very much wished you to be. There was a pleasing demanding antic in his tactic, deepening your kiss as you smirked against his lips on how blunt and unashamedly he could be at times.

testing on what he might like, you squeezed him through his pants with his hands splayed on your neck, tracing his fingers over your skin nervously. Each hiss that you'd notice develop in his throat, felt as if someone lit you on fire, all too alluring.

you peeled yourself away from his lips with them glowing of saliva, slightly parted. His body was clearly tensed with him letting go of a painfully slow hiss. "is that alright?" with his eyes half open, you could still watch his dilated pupils, smoothening your hand on his semi erect member.

"can you do it faster?"

there was a twitch in his sentence, one he did not notice on his own as he lolled himself back into pillows with your hand proceeding to work on him. Scaramouche had long since teetered around the pleasure you inflicted on him, drunk on your presence alone.

silently, but ever so mindful, you squeezed his clothed groin before peppering his chest with tender kisses, lowering yourself and never stilling your hand on him. Scaramouche dropped his head, lust blinded, clenching his hand and disheveling the bedsheets under him as you proceeded to be content with your play.

the sweet and intoxicating whines he'd let you hear were drawing you into madness with how consuming they were.

your body moved on autopilot as you placed a soft kiss on his twitching groin. The air around him began to be difficult to take in, thick as syrup, slow and jarring, tinged with something fiddling with his senses.

you gave him a little laugh as he tilted his head to you, returning your smile hesitantly when you worked your way on his belt, discarding it together with his pants and boxers, pushing them down.

the breeze was stirring on his pulsating member, with it resting stiff on his pelvis. The soft rasp of his throat upon taking it in your hand was exhilarating, an extra thrill creeping at him as you kissed the tip, lapping his pre cum with a single flick of your tongue.

"fuck, more." the sheer act of submission that took place in between his legs tampered in his thoughts, marveling before him at the intense sight with your continues kisses on his rosy tip.

scaramouche felt powerful, wanted, desired, by the person he so very much cherished and loved.

you effortlessly parted your lips, wrapping yourself around him before going down easily. The nervousness and flips that went over in his stomach were replaced by pleasing caresses and skillful flicks of your tongue on his shaft.

for him, he felt weightless, watching himself disappear in your warm mouth with your eyes tightly shut in concentration. The hint of a smile remained on you with your strokes fastening. You hollowed your cheeks, stilling yourself for a tiny bit before pulling yourself up slowly.

a layer of sweat dampened the tiny hair on his nape with him grunting at every thrust now. The squelching noises flustered his state of mind, as if he was embarrassed of it, unsure on how to response to it either.

your wet muscle was notably sinful, flattened on the underside of his length with the raw texture of your tongue adding into the roughness of your sucking.

scaramouche bathed in ecstasy, truly, exhaling his breath in long, uneven bursts as you bobbed your head again, giving him a couple of final additional pushes as he releases himself in you.

"oh, fuck." his moans were bittersweet, careful and deep with his eyes tightly closed, carving his hips up into your mouth. You ran your hand over his shivering thigh in an attempt to aid him to his release, tonguing his semi erect cock and nibbling softly.

his angelic moans roamed through the room, filling it with sounds of sex and pleasure as you released him. His seed was melting together with your saliva, lewdly. You dragged the back of your hand over your mouth before swallowing his cun with his eyes fixated on the sight.

a slight pause was warranted as you caught your breath, crawling over to your lover, "are you alright?" scaramouche worried for a moment that it was too much or if he had pained you.

"i didn't hurt you? did i?"

the tiny, yet dominant fear in his eyes was evident, with you cradling his cheeks into a soft embrace. "you were perfect." seeking his lips out to pepper him in a loving smooth.

smiling indulgently into the kiss, scaramouche hummed in satisfaction and happiness, his hands falling down and resting on your chest, tugging on your dress.

naturally, you understood what he wanted you to do, short after discarding of your garment and leaving you in underwear for him to relish in. Your body was revealed to him, without hesitation he dragged you back to his hold, dominating you with his lips.

scaramouche was beginning to see the advantages of being dominant in bed, the lazy smile giving him enough reassurance to shove you into the mattress with him towering over you now. Following suit, you urged him to dispose of his shirt as well, helping him get out of it.

you returned to him, nibbling on his lips as he roamed your body with his hands, fondling with the bra before discarding it, with your panties following right after. The slight difficulties he faced with unclasping your bra left a feeling, more so, a tiny amount of panic at the idea that he might not be capable to please you sexually, with you actually enjoying it just how he did earlier.

you spotted the embarrassment in him, heavy lidded eyes never leaving his when you soothed his muscles, making his heart race with nothing more than candid handling of his body.

"have your way with me." with this proclamation, you traced your fingers over your exposed nipples to center his attention towards your chest. Of course, you did it easily, precisely, with scaramouche's eyes flickering with lust at your words.

"don't tell me what to do."

you were so unbelievably sexy, he noticed how he started to get hard, painfully so, planting himself in between your legs while pressing himself into your heat. Your hips pushed up, straining against the bulge of his erection, pursing your mouth.

he peered lower, longing to touch your breasts and feel them on his palm as he did just that, taking one in his hand. Experimentally, he pushed his thumb over your erected nipple, curious on the reaction he might coax out of you.

tilting your head, your pulse grew stronger. You hummed deeply, complimenting his touch on you as he brought himself to your chest, dragging his rough tongue on your bud, shuddering when he gently held his lips together, pulling away. Each moan, whine or whimper he'd be able to notice from you, only fed into the strong desire to pleasure you, love you how you deserved it.

with all of his might, scaramouche tried to ignore the growing hardness in his lower region, carefully gnawing on your nipple while fondling your other breast in his hand. Dragging his head over the mounds of flesh, he swept his glistering lips over the delicate skin, a moan rising from your throat upon noticing the suck on you.

blissfully unaware, he continued to latch numerous times onto your softness, nibbling and gently digging his teeth into you. Before you knew it, he already had begun to admire the marks he had left on your chest up to your collarbone, the drift of his cooling breath soothing the pulsating areas you were decorated with.

the aftershocks that rippled through you added to the heavy spiral in between your thighs, thrills of sexual want vibrating through you. It didn't help, his relaxed state of mind let his normal defenses fall short with his cock fully erected again, resting on top of your glistering folds.

the weight of the situation began to fall down on him with a slight feeling of overwhelm and the fear of failing taking a significant change in him. Grasping on what was happening, you soothed him back into reality, taking a hold of his head to drag him to you, his body leaning on top of yours.

"we can stop if you want."

it was important for you to give scaramouche enough time to get used to this feeling. Not only the taste of intimacy itself, but the idea and patterns of gentle touching and fondling, in a loving, more so passionate way he had never experienced.

"i want this."

everything was falling into place how he had fantasized about in his dreams, for months tolerating the unbearable growing ache on his groin without the ability to voice it to you. Even little, small obstacles wouldn't get in his way this time. Nodding your head at his words, you enveloped your arm around his neck while the other one sneaked in between your bodies.

letting out a sigh of relief, you lined yourself up with the help of scaramouche. For him, there was as much frustration as pleasure right now, he couldn't wait any longer to finally feel you like this, to finally become one with his partner.

bracing himself he leaned closer to you, with his hips following suit and pushing past the agonizing tightness of your hole, muffling the throat caught moans on your neck.

It eased him out, fairytales were downright despised by him yet why did this moment feel like one? it was unusual enough to get him so silent, so cautious with his body trembling on you. The fading jolt of pain arrowed on your hole with him handling you with great caress, offering you plenty of time to get used to his girth.

"that feels." each word melted down on his tongue eagerly, sending you staggering with him whimpering at the natural hardness. "that feels really good."

with the pace increasing, you kept a firm hold on him, rubbing circles on his back while he squeezed your breasts, his fingers sinking into your flesh. The slight stuttering on his hips was noticeable, right now scaramouche was testing on what would feel the most comfortable, but also most pleasurable for the both of you.

without breaking the rhythm, he pulled himself off your neck, locking your gaze with your body stiffening at his maddening expression. With your jaw gaped open, you moaned out his name, the very name he despised in the past, but with you voicing it like that, with that particular charm in your voice, it tasted like sweet honey on a summer night.

he gazed at your neck with your head thrown back at the pleasure his hips inflicted on you, your veins throbbing with blood with the notable rush in adrenaline shooting into you. Your walls were tightly wrapped around his length, intoxicating, with your hips grinding together.

all thoughts of possible negative outcomes were drowned by the way he was fucking you. Just thinking about doing this over and over again with you from now on, scaramouche had deducted that he had indeed become addicted to the feeling of you enveloped around him like that.

his hot breathing rolled over your glistering body that was covered in sweat and perspiration, his gaze focused on your person with the original first thought in him being on how messy you looked, how filthy and it was his fault alone. Surely, it wasn't necessary to explain the sudden burst in his ego, that developed by the tinkering in his mind, not when you continued to moan together with those alluring sounds of yours.

the bubbling sensation on his groin was beginning to reach its high, with scaramouche snapping himself faster into your warmth, so fast your breasts were beginning to bounce in tandem with it, making his cock press further in you. "fuck." the delicious pleasure he experienced had him lean into your face, kissing you while rolling his hips into you with the sounds of sex being more notable.

observing you with carefulness, cautious, he displayed a crooked smile, "are you close?" sobbing softly at his words, with your climax approaching, you nodded frantically. "i am so close." pleasant emotions in you rose, running your fingertips over his chest before stilling your hand on his cheek, dragging him down.

scaramouche moaned into the kiss, he wasn't sure if he was even supposed to fully be vocal with you or be as loud as he was right now. His lips, glazed and puffy, dwelling with a satiated sigh when his pace became uneven, dragging his stiff cock on your velvety walls.

the suffocating air in the room was unfolding with his patience evaporating, a sight around of small tears dwelling in your eyes at the fastened pace. In a daze, he finally spilled himself in you, a broken moan rippling in his throat with his vision becoming blurry. Your hands urged him to come down once more with your lips pressed together on his own, whining into his mouth when you twitched at the very second you felt him fill you with his warm seed.

unable to find your voice, you cried out, shuddering with your climax washing over you, yours hand around him beginning to tremble. The heaviness of your body was certain, with your thigh muscles aching as you lowered yourself back into the disheveled damp sheets.

scaramouche stabilized himself up with one hand while he roamed your body with the other, the expectations of the act alone had been overthrown by what he had felt right now. In a way, it was impossible for him to explain it, more so did he curse himself that he didn't take the initiative sooner.

you mumbled something underneath your breath and with him concentrating on your lips, he figured out what it was, his face igniting in flames. Your mouth quirked up into a smirk upon seeing his flustered state, your posture slightly straightening with him still being buried in you.

"don't you want to say it back?"

before you got an opportunity to ask again, scaramouche rolled his eyes at you, visible annoyed. "i don't think I have to tell you that i love you." he narrowed his brows, swallowing the knot in his throat when he pulled himself out of your messy hole, his cum pooling out.

"and why is that?"

undoubtedly, you thoroughly enjoyed messing with your boyfriend, not to mention when he was embarrassed for whatever reason. "because you already know i do, are you stupid?" you snickered at his words, deciding to curve the conversation into another direction.

your gaze lowered, with the both of you being in dire need of a shower, watching the mess unfold further on the silky sheets. You savored into the intimate atmosphere when he plopped himself right next to you, indirectly opening his arms so you could slip yourself in his hold.

naturally, without pressing the matter further, you do as he craved, catching his eyes to indulge in his afterglow expression. His chest was heaving unevenly, he was still out of breath and you found that immensely adorable, more so how he desperately tried to hide it from you.

"don't look at me like that." of course, you thought to yourself, he snapped at you with his head averting your gaze. You hummed to yourself, fluttering your eyes shut with his attention pointed to the small circles you drew on his chest.

the bittersweet smile on his lips, you did not spot, and he did not want to show you.

plastered on his mouth with scaramouche finally being able to let go and experience the feeling of just living, just existing without a bigger cause he had to participate in, but to simply be there with you, with you enveloped in his arms as you drifted into a comfortable slumber, together.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #scaramouche x you #fatui harbingers #genshin impact scaramouche

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wildemaven · 2 months

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1000 kisses to you and here's my 2 prompt picks for the drabble thingie: 4 and 15 with Javier

Can't wait to see what it leads to 😘

call me javi | javier peña

pairing: javier peña x reader word count: 651 content warning: mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, dancing, fluff, javier being protective and sweet, I don’t think there’s anything else note: sorry it took me so long to get to this!! I hope this works okay 💕 thanks for sending in your ask and for you support

“You're not as bad as everyone says you are.” You say loudly rather close to his ear, hoping he can hear over the booming music and crowded bar.

It was a slow week at the embassy, which meant the DEA’s finest had a chance to let loose and enjoy themselves for once.

Drinks flowing. Bodies grinding in tune with each song the DJ throws out, keeping the energy circulating throughout the small bar you all frequent regularly.

Tonight would be like any other Friday with your fellow Agents, except this evening you find yourself drawn to one Agent in particular.

His body has been firmly against yours for the better part of the evening, front and back. Hands holding you close no matter the pace of the song, selfishly worried you might drift away or find yourself in the arms of someone else.

You lost count at the amount of times his lips brushed over your own ears. His constant need to check in with you had your chest tight and stomach full of fluttering desire.

There was a small part of you that was feeling he might even like you. More than just a crush born from an evening of close proximity. There was never a thought that he would be, not with all the beautiful women constantly in his arms in all the years you’ve known him.

With the way his warm brown eyes are so fixated on you says otherwise. His expression exchanged for something a little less brooding and a little more alluring. Hands still finding purchase by any means as you lean against the wall while his body shields you from onlookers. The dimly lit hallway near the back of the bar adds another layer of privacy.

“Who’s everyone?” Javier’s voice is laced with a nervousness you’ve never heard before. The stoic demeanor he wears regularly now hangs up alongside his worn-in leather jacket.

There’s a raspiness brought on by the pack of cigarettes he most likely blew through leading up to showing up here, even though he said he had other plans.

“Who do you think?” You smirk playfully at him, your fingers playing with the damp curls at the base of his neck.

“Steve?” There was no need to even ask, he already knew how protective Steve was, rightfully so. Didn’t mean he still didn’t find his overbearing partner to be a pain in his ass, especially when it came to you.

You nod in agreement, desperately trying to contain the laughter bubbling up as he huffs out dramatically, shaking his head. The annoyance doesn’t last long though. The corners of his mouth lifting, revealing one of his best features. His smile makes you instantly weak and it has you prematurely looking forward to being on the receiving end of it forever.

“Are you going to kiss me, Javier?” The prospect of his lips on you, in any capacity, had been overwhelming your every thought since he saddled up next to you at the beginning of the night.

Watching the way his lips formed every word he spoke. Cradling the edge of his glass on his plush lower lip as he sipped on his dry whiskey. Contorting in such a delicate way with each drag he pulled from his cigarette.

They’re the softest lips you’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing. Excruciatingly blissful, deliberately encompassing your own, as your brain silently screams for more.

“Javi.” Javi. It rolls off his tongue like a sweet springtime honey. Each letter electric as he says it, leaving your mouth tingling as it brands itself to your soul.

“Hmm?” Too consumed by him to form words.

“You can call me Javi from now on.” There’s a permanence in the way he says it, something you both have to discuss once the hangovers have worn off tomorrow.

“Kiss me again— Javi.” And he does well into the next morning.

#javier peña #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #wildmaven writes #pedrostories

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voxyldy · 8 months

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youtube

09.15.2023

[TEASER]

V, BTS, CELINE, ESQUIRE, KOREA

SOURCE: ESQUIRE Korea

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55sturn · 2 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ PETER LOSIN’ WENDY

↳ masterlist!

↳ summary: in which chris doesn't realize that while pursuing another girl, he's losing the girl that would've been the one for him.

↳ pairings: chris sturniolo x fem!reader | chris sturniolo x named fem!oc

↳ warnings: swearing, drunk!reader + drunk!chris, cheating, angst, angst, and even more angst, unresolved hurt.

↳ author's note: hehehehe i love angst! this is lowkey short and will not have a part two!

↳ important notes: red text blocks are lyrics that prelude what’s about to happen!

THIRD PERSON POV

chris didn't realize he had made a mistake until it was far too late. he thought that amelia was the girl he wanted, but he soon realized that he couldn't have been more wrong.

he really, truly though that he would have enough will and time to choose between the two girls, however he didn't realize that as he chased them both, he was losing the girl that was the one for him.

VINTAGE TEE, BRAND NEW PHONE, HIGH HEELS ON COBBLESTONES

as y/n and chris made their way home from some random los angeles party, the couldn't help but giggle each time y/n's heels clicked against the cobblestone path they walked along. the two couldn't help their drunken giggles as they blindly made their way home.

"you should take those off before you hurt yourself." chris laughed, his hand intertwined with hers as he held his phone in the other.

"i'll be fine. you never told me where your shirt was from by the way."

"it's from some vintage thrift store back home in boston."

"i like it." she whispered, titling her head as she stared at him beneath the streetlight.

"let me take a picture of you, i don't have any on this phone yet." chris smiled, taking the picture as she blushed, watching as he set as his lockscreen.

BUT I KNEW YOU, DANCING IN YOUR LEVI'S, DRUNK UNDER A STREETLIGHT

the two continued their walk home, haphazardly walking into each other as they stumbled further down the path. their hands loosely intertwined with each other's, chris couldn't help pull her closer to him, his other hand falling to her waist as he softly rocked their bodies back and forth, humming a slow beat to a song playing quietly in his head.

"i like this side of you." she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes at he smiled down at her.

"not many get to know this side of me, but you do."

"i wanna know every side of you." she smiled back, watching as his eyes sparkled slightly.

y/n slowly walked ahead, unaware of chris' phone pinging in his pocket, another girl blowing up his messages wondering where he was as she missed him.

with a shameful sigh, he plucked his phone from the back pocket of his levi's, swiping away the notifications she sent his way.

HAND UNDER MY SWEATSHIRT, BABY KISS IT BETTER // SAID I WAS YOUR FAVOURITE

chris hand was beneath the back of y/n's sweater as she cried against his chest, her head hurting from the amount of stress she had dealt with during the day.

"baby, can you kiss it better?" she teased, trying to lighten her mood, making chris roll his eyes before pressing a gentle kiss to the girl's forehead, smiling against her skin as she keened into his touched.

walking backwards, he led her to her couch, falling back against the cushions, pulling her on top of him as he continued to rub her back, hoping to ease some of her stress.

"you're my favourite person, y'know that?" chris whispered as she laid her head on his chest, her fingers dancing along his bicep as they laid there.

"i am?"

"without a doubt."

CHASE TWO GIRLS, LOSE THE ONE

y/n hadn’t meant to pry and prod, but chris had grown distant lately, he was off around her and she was curious. so when his phone pinged while he was in the shower, she let her curiosity get the best of her. but she wished she hadn't as she read the notification that lit up his screen.

amelia

cmon chris, you know i'm the one you rly want

every time she re-read the girl's message, it chipped away at her heart. how could chris do this her? betrayed couldn't even begin to describe how she felt. as chris' screen faded to black, she heard the water shut and she couldn't be bothered to move. she didn't realize she was crying until chris was kneeling in front of her, gently wiping her tears.

"what's wrong y/n?"

"who's amelia?"

"wait what?" chris sputtered, her question sending shockwaves through this body as she stared at him, completely unsure of who was kneeling before her.

"who is she?"

"she's no one, baby i promise."

"tell me the truth, who is she, chris?"

"i met her the night we came home from that party and i've been seeing her occasionally since." he whispered, finding no use in lying to her as she sat there, her tears of sadness becoming tears of anger as she felt her hurt settle in her heart.

"get out."

"what?"

"get out. i'm done. we're done. i'm not going to sitting around while you chase some other girl."

BUT I KNEW YOU'D LINGER LIKE A TATTOO KISS // I KNEW YOU'D HAUNT ALL MY WHAT-IFS

for months following her breakup with chris, y/n had been a shell of who she used to be. she hadn't experienced the heartbreak he caused before in her life. it had left behind a different kind of hollow in her chest. a void that no one would fill.

no one except chris.

and for months, he lingered in her life. in the back of her mind as she walked down the streets they used to walk together. the ghost of his lips pressing against her temple every time she had a migraine. the feeling of his hand beneath her sweater, fingertips mindlessly drawing shapes the small of her back as she laid in bed. the smell of his cologne stubbornly sticking to her pillow cases on his side of the bed.

he was everywhere and she couldn't forget him. he was a ghost unable to move on as she felt swallowed and suffocated by her pain. she didn't know what to do and she couldn't take the after-shocks that his infidelity put her though.

he invaded every thought she had.

what if i'm not good enough?

what if was i enough for chris?

what if they cheat on me like chris did?

what if i can't move on?

what if chris is hurting too?

he was everywhere in her mind. he haunted every possible chance she had at moving past the pain she felt.

I KNEW YOU'D MISS ME ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRED, AND YOU'D BE STANDING IN MY FRONT PORCH LIGHT, I KNEW YOU'D COME BACK TO ME

y/n knew chris would come miss her once the thrill of being with amelia had faded. she wasn't someone chris could be with long time, from what she had been told by people knew her. she knew he'd come back, he made a promise that he'd find his way back to her as he walked out of her house that night.

but as she pulled into her driveway, she found him standing under her porch light, his hair sticking to his forehead as the rain fell against it. sighing, she got out of her car, the door slamming shut behind her as she stood there.

"chris."

"i miss you."

"no. you don't get to do this chris."

"listen please." he pleaded, watching as she looked up toward the sky for a moment, her eyes closed as her shoulders fell before looked back at him, nodding and crossing her arms.

"i know i fucked up. i made the wrong choice and put someone before you and i shouldn't have. i should've never gone for her. i had a good thing going and i completely fucked it up."

"chris you need to leave, please. i can't go through that kind of pain again."

"please give me one more chance. i'll do better."

"if i let myself forgive you, i won't be able to forgive myself. i will be subjecting myself to constantly worrying that i'll never be enough for you. i'll be walking on eggshells around you, scared to push you into the arms of another girl. i cannot put myself through that again. when i found out you cheated on me, it stripped me of everything i knew. i lost my sense of stability and sense of who i was. i became someone i didn't know, i was fucking destroyed chris. so no, i cannot let you back into my life because i would be betraying the promise i made myself."

"i'm so sorry y/n, i wish i could fix my mistakes but just know, that if i can ever be forgiven by you, i'll be waiting. i'll always wait for you and i'll always love you."

↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @florcult @33sturniolo @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @soursturniolo @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi @wronqness99 @sturniolossss @hesvoid3434 @mattsfavwh3re @inlovewithmattstur @melanch0lybby @whatrulookingat11

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x oc #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x oc #christopher sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo oneshot #christopher sturniolo angst

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wqnwoos · 9 months

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before you, jihoon had never referred to his apartment as home.

it was always my apartment, my house, my flat, my place, because while he did like his house, and its white-tiled kitchen and spacious bedroom, something about it felt a little empty. just a smidge — a small, hollow space, like it was waiting for something. or rather, someone.

and then there was you. filling up the space like you’d been shaped exactly right for it; slotting into his life, his place, perfectly.

it started from the very first date: you’d dropped a bracelet in his car when he dropped you back to your own place, and he’d left it carefully on his dresser to return it to you for the promised second date. except jihoon had forgotten, over and over, until you finally came over to his, laughing in that easy way of yours when you spotted it.

that first bubble of laughter spilling from your lips inside his four walls made him think. it was early, still, but that was the moment, the feeling — that this was going to last. you were going to make your little nest in his life, and he was going to be more than happy to welcome you in.

and that’s exactly how it happened. it was slow, at first. your spare toothbrush in his bathroom. an extra bottle of hair conditioner, your favourite brand, his favourite scent. your favourite juice stocked in the fridge.

spare, leftover clothes of yours; jihoon had made space in his closet for you eventually, shifting aside some of his own clothes, making you a divot in the drawers. the day he showed you it — totally casual and cool, because it wasn’t a huge deal! — you’d cried a little. which was both sweet and slightly bitter: he hated seeing you cry. just the fact that you didn’t think he would do something like that for you stung a teensy tiny bit — because he’d move much more than clothes for you, he’d move the ends of the earth if he could.

and then you moved in. which was exciting, more exciting than jihoon would admit. you yourself were buzzed, dancing around your cardboard boxes and forcing him to dance with you. that pretty laughter of yours echoing of the walls, sparkles in your eyes, filling the place with love. making the house a home.

an / can u guys tell i am obsessed with the concept of jihoon in love. it’s important to me.

#woozi x reader #jihoon fluff #jihoon x reader #seventeen fluff #woozi fluff #woozi fic #jihoon fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #woozi comfort

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝐏𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚 𝐃𝐚𝐲 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre!outbreak joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn

word count: 3.1k

summary: Months after the move you're trying to paint again. But you lack the motivation to do so. Thankfully, Sarah comes over and keeps you company until Tommy and Joel come over to pick her up.

warnings: brief themes of grief, tommy radiating younger sibling energy and being a menace, fluff

a/n: thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed the prologue and a special thank you to @pedrito-friskito who edited the chapter, love you! 💜💜💜

prologue || chapter two

The dust lingers in the air, a constant reminder of what once was. You see flecks of it dancing in the beams of light that pour through the window, illuminating the room with a hazy glow. The smell of dust permeates every corner, fills your lungs. There are still boxes stacked in your room. Some of them waiting to be unpacked and some of them waiting to be filled.

Looking through your grandfather’s old knick-knacks had been a harder task than you thought. You found pictures, lots of them. From his past, from his now. You even found a picture of yourself from when you were a kid; laughing in the sun with mud all over your face. You had promised him the perfect garden. At the end of the day, it was far from it but he still said that it was.

Your fingers clench around the brush you’re holding. An hour ago you decided to use the grief to make something of it. You had a heaping amount of black and red paint poured onto the pallete, untouched.

You shake your head, agitated. You really shouldn’t be wasting paint. It’s not like you can afford to continuously buy supplies.

You’re staring deeply into the blank canvas when a loud knock jars you back to reality. You can feel a burn in your eyes, taunting you for the wasted hour spent sitting idly without so much as a brushstroke to show for it.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumble under your breath while heading to the door. Your eyes linger on the window, it’s a clear day out, which now you decide to point all your anger at. If it was raining, it would be different. You would have the proper ambiance to be inspired.

Without looking, you open the door, your eyes immediately dropping to the girl standing on your porch. “Sarah?”

“Sorry for barging in,” she says with a sheepish grin. “I forgot my keys and dad isn’t home yet. Can I come inside?”

Dad. Joel.

You blink before smiling. You take a step to the side as a wordless invite. She steps inside with grace, her shoes blinking pink and purple. It’s hard to stifle a giggle, which earns you a quizzical look from her.

You point to her feet, “Nice kicks,”

“Oh,” her eyes lit up, leaving her heel glued to the hardwood floors, she lifted her foot. “Aren’t they cool? Azra offered we trade shoes for the day.”

"Veeery nice," you nod, but as Sarah turns to head further inside, you clear your throat. "Shoes off," you remind her.

“Right, sorry.”

You make your way to the kitchen, Sarah follows closely behind, taking off her blinking shoes as she goes. You stretch up on your toes and open the cupboard, searching for Sarah's preferred brand of tea.

Since you moved in and formed close bonds with the Miller family, both Tommy and Sarah have been regular visitors to your home. You enjoy their company. It was nice to talk to people instead of obsessing over your muses that had clearly abandoned you.

You pull out the box of apple cinnamon tea and place it on the counter. Joel never stops by. You only see him whenever he comes over to pick up Sarah and that’s pretty much it. Sometimes you send cookies via Sarah and the next day she would tell you he enjoyed them. You aren’t quite sure if Joel is just reserved or if he just didn’t like you that much, but no matter what it is, the rest of the family seems to enjoy your presence. Which is all a neighbor could ask for.

The staccato drumming of Sarah’s fingers against the wooden table pulls you back. You turn on the kettle, a soft steam filling the kitchen.

“Your uncle Tommy is going to stop by too,” you say, leaning back and crossing your arms. “I’m assuming you’re dad is with him?”

“Yeah, but it’s pizza day today so my dad will probably force them to stop by the supermarket to grab some stuff,” she lets her head fall onto her hands and adds. “If he doesn’t forget, that is. You should join us,”

The water comes to a boil, forcing you to turn away from her. You place two tea bags into comically large mugs (the ones that make both Tommy and Sarah giggle, which brightens up your day) and pour the steaming water into them. You place one of the mugs in front of Sarah and slide into the chair beside her, watching as she wraps her nimble fingers around the purple mug.

“I’m a busy woman,” you tease. “I need to work and stuff,”

“Coffee shop?”

“I’m off for the day,”

A mischievous glint glimmered in her eyes, her smile widening into a cheeky grin. “Date?”

You snort into your tea, waving your hand dismissively. Sarah raises an eyebrow at that. The girl has quite a sharp intuition. If you were being completely honest, it made you nervous some days.

“Nah, I just need to work on my paintings. I haven’t managed to paint a single stroke. It’s frustrating,” you stop and take a sip, the fruity flavor makes your taste buds come alive. “Very annoying,”

“Maybe just paint something else or sketch something you like,” she states nonchalantly. “Take a break from the main thing, do a side quest,”

“Sometimes I do that, but I really need to get a grip. I’m gonna end up working at the coffee house forever, or I’m just going to have to risk starvation,”

“Don’t worry. We’ll take you in, feed you,”

Teenagers. You shake your head with an amused smile, “What am I? A dog?”

“A friend.”

You still at that, fingers curling around the hot mug, it burns to the touch. Sarah starts to look around your house as if what she just said just now wasn’t ridiculously sweet.

She hops off the chair and starts to wander with her mug nestled between her palms. Taking a sip, you smile into the porcelain rim, your heart beating fast.

When you first moved here, you were scared to be alone. That you wouldn’t be able to make any friends. After your grandfather died and left you the house, you had half a mind to not make the move. It was nerve-wracking at the time. But ironically enough it was your grief that spurred you to take the leap forward.

Sarah slows down, reaching the bookshelf. The one you have in the living room isn’t really that impressive, mostly put there for decor. She pushes a succulent out of the way and allows her fingers to trace the smooth spines. “You have a lot of children’s books,”

“What can I say, I’m a kid at heart,” you observe the bookshelf next to her. She isn’t wrong. A lot of Roald Dahl books, which are followed by a series of Nicholas and the Gang books. “If you want to see my more serious stuff, we can check the one upstairs.”

“I’m good,” Hooking her fingers around Matilda, she pulls the paperback out of its home. She flips it over and scans the back. “Can I borrow this one?”

“Sure, be my guest. That’s one of my favorites,”

“Living in a house full of dumb-dumbs sounds like my life story,”

“Oh, believe me, your dad is much smarter than he looks,” the sigh you let out attracts her attention, eyes flitting back to you. “And so is your uncle. Also, Matilda’s parents are kind of assholes,”

“Woah, spoilers.”

Another knock at the door. Compared to Sarah’s slow, more careful ones. These knocks sound eccentric, hitting the wood as if the person behind it is out to break it.

“Uncle Tommy,” Sarah guesses, rolling her eyes but smiling. “My dad’s probably with him,”

She’s spot on with her guess. Sarah peers from your side, looking over both her uncle and dad. Tommy shoots you a wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Joel stands tall right behind him, his arms crossed, he greets you with a small smile and a signature head tilt.

“Hello boys,” you say, returning the nod and smile. “Do you guys wanna come in?”

Joel lifts a bag of groceries, “Pizza day,”

Sarah’s ears perk up at that, her eyes wide with disbelief, “You didn’t forget!” then she narrows her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out. “Who are you and what did you with to my dad?”

“I had to remind him,” Tommy chuckles, nudging his shoulder into Joel’s. He holds your gaze. “But I’m here for you, beautiful,”

“My hero.”

Joel scoffs with a half grin and gestures his head towards Sarah, “Get your things. Let’s get going.”

All Sarah has to do is lean to the side and grab her backpack from behind the door. Joel waits for her below the short set of stairs, one hand in his pocket, eyes flicking between you and Tommy. He seems impatient, almost.

Tommy brushes past you while Sarah takes her first step over the threshold. At that very moment you feel suspended in time, your eyes finding Joel’s for a brief moment until Sarah comes into view. He slaps a hand over her shoulder and smiles at you. Sarah is still holding the book as she waves you both off.

When you close the door, Tommy is already in the kitchen, rummaging through your fridge. “You have nothin’ to eat,”

“I thought we could order out,” you offer, your gaze falling to the blank canvas. Tommy moves his entire upper body out of the fridge and slams it shut.

“You have anything in mind?”

You don’t have to think long for an answer.

“You know what? I think I’m craving pizza.”

The thing about Tommy Miller is that he’s a good listener, paired with quite the mouth.

He can talk for hours. You always comment on how that was his superpower; there RE no awkward silences when Tommy İs near. He’s also ridiculously intuitive, which makes you think Sarah got it from him.

You two are sitting on the couch with crossed legs and facing each other. Your knees press together as he tells you about his day, munching on the last slice. He’s telling you how the concrete deliveries got delayed, which meant that the rest of their schedule got fucked. His words, not yours. Joel was furious, apparently. You never would’ve guessed. He just looks tired all the time.

“By the way,” he says, swallowing and reaching for the glass of bubbling coke. “If you were cravin’ pizza so much, we could’ve gone over to Joel’s. Eat some of that good homemade shit,”

Picking up the empty pizza box, you place it on the coffee table and push it with the tips of your fingers. You don’t know how to answer him. Your brows furrow, and when he sees it, worry crosses his face.

A bitter chuckle drops abruptly from your lips, “I don’t think Joel likes me very much,”

“What?” Tommy sounds positively horrified. If anyone heard, they would’ve thought you said something along the lines of your mother dying. “Nonsense. He adores you. Why would you even think that?”

Your eyes drop to the cushions you sit on. You feel the brush of his knuckles ghosting over your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze. His eyes are a soft brown, a shade lighter than Joel’s.

“Hey, you can talk to me. Did he do something to make you feel like that?”

“N-No,” you slowly shake your head, your pulse throbs under your skin. “I just…I don’t know. It seems like he’s wary of me, like I did something wrong once and he’s expecting it to happen again,”

He sighs, his palm now fully cradling your cheek. You can’t help but lean into his touch. “That’s just Joel for you. He’s got a fair share of weight on them shoulders—I’m also probably not a big help to him. Always getting into trouble,”

“I know for a fact that Sarah and Joel love you very much,” you have the need to remind him, and his eyes light up at your words. The skin under his hand burns. “Besides young siblings are always trouble, I would know since I’m the younger one as well. It’s character.”

He blows a raspberry into the air. His hand falls from your cheek and takes refuge over his lap. “Some character,” he utters under his breath, shooting you a playful gaze. “You want me to talk to him?”

“Please no,” you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder as you get up. “That would be super embarrassing,”

“Sometimes you need to tell that stubborn dog to behave,” his voice reaches you in waves, his socked feet following you to the kitchen. You dispose of the boxes, start to prepare him, and you some late-night tea.

“He is behaving,” you reply, feeling his presence behind you. “I just get into my own head sometimes. Don’t worry about it.”

Your hands are still above the kitchen counter when you feel his warm breath fanning the back of your neck. You watch his fingers curl around the edge, his chin not quite pressing but lingering a couple of centimeters above your shoulder.

“Anyone who doesn’t like you is a grade-A idiot, just sayin’” his voice is a low echo in your ear. He’s not physically touching you, but it feels as if his entire being is consuming you by just being so close. The click of the kettle parts the silence. “The water’s done.”

You’re surprised when you turn and find that there’s actually quite a bit of space between you still. You could’ve sworn that his body was only a breath away.

Tommy steps closer, caging you between his arms and the kitchen counter. He has a lazy, yet adoring, smile on his face. Your legs start to tremble, a habit you found you did whenever you were in any kind of confrontation.

Now, there isn’t really anything to confront, so you blame the crackling of tension between you and him. You take a breath and your chest heaves.

You hold your breath when you notice he’s starting to inch closer, gorgeous browns dropping to the flush of your lips. You don’t pull away. But you don’t lean in either. You’re like a deer in headlights, shocked by the sudden beam of brightness.

“Is this okay?” he asks in a whisper. You swallow, your muddled mind finding it difficult to string the words that might or might not form a coherent sentence.

Tommy has always been a close friend. A confidant. Someone you can call in the middle of the night with noquestions asked. You know for a fact that he can be a flirt. And this quality of his cheered you up from time to time—like when he calls you beautiful or praises you in any shape or form. But you’re quite not sure you want to breach the limitations of a platonic relationship.

Suddenly you feel his lips on your cheek, pulling back as quickly as he leaned in, he releases you from the cage and grins at you.

“Gotcha.”

“Excuse me?” Your mouth feels like sandpaper and your throat dry. You swallow and watch him sit on a stool across from you. His fingers grip the peaking part of the stool head between his legs, he looks like a toddler.

“I’m just doing my thing, being a troublemaker. Just like you said,” he hunches forward, eyes looking up to you between dark lashes. “It’s character, right?”

“Oh fuck off, Tommy Miller,”

“You know I’m not above accepting that offer, right? It’s been a while.”

You roll your eyes and turn on the kettle again, the steaming water now probably tepid.

“What would you do if I actually kissed you?”

The question lingers in the air and uncomfortably presses into your skin, you lack the air to take a breath. You don’t dare to look at him. Gaze stubbornly watching the button of the kettle to pop, signaling you that the water is boiling.

“I don’t know Tommy,” you answer honestly and press a palm against the heating surface of the kettle. “I don’t know.”

You hate taking out the thrash.

You don’t know why. When you were a kid, it was your dad who took it out and that would always be accompanied by a series of complaints. His habit of talking to himself and to the inanimate objects around him had passed on to you. The night air chills your skin, a shiver shuddering up your spine while you struggle to keep the trash bag in the air with one hand. Your nails begin to tear the plastic and you start to walk faster.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, arm cramping. “Come on, just a little further,”

When you reach the container, you lift the bag with a heave and do a small little hip wiggle at the small victory.

Turning around you see Joel watching you with a wide smile.

You’re stunned into silence, arms and legs tingling at the thought of how stupid you must’ve looked. He’s holding a trashbag of his own. Red flannel accentuating his narrowing hips perfectly. He cocks his head to the side when you continue to stare.

“Are you always this excited after throwin’ out the thrash?” he asks, humored by your reaction.

While you think of an answer, he takes wide steps and throws out his own trash. Joel then turns to you, the only thing separating your bodies being the white picket fence.

“Let’s just say that I was happy it didn’t rip while making the trip,”

He nods while pressing his hands into his thighs, “A worthy thing to celebrate.”

You shift from one leg to another. The conversation you had with Tommy the night before echoes in your head worry clouding your chest with the question ‘did Tommy say anything?’. But you assume not when Joel takes a step back, palms sliding down his jeans like a nervous tick.

“Well then,” he clears his throat. “See you later neighbor,”

You lift your hand to wave, an early smile starts to curl over your lips. However, your half-uttered goodbye is cut short by the absurdly loud growl of your stomach.

Ah fuck.

Joel stills. Your cheeks and the tips of your ears burn. His eyes drop to your arms that are now wrapped tight around your stomach, then he lifts his gaze back up to meet yours.

“You wanna join us for dinner?” he asks, he pronounces every word slowly, reminding you of the way you whisper to animals that you don’t want to scare away. “Sarah’s makin’ her special burgers,”

“Special?” you ask back, ignoring the fact that you’ve become a charity case in a blink of an eye. “What makes them special?”

Hand sliding into his pockets, Joel gestures with his head for you to come over.

“Why don’t you come over and see for yourself?”

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